First Stop: Brockport!

You know how when you’re growing up, you picture where you’ll be in your 30s . . . maybe married, with a couple kids, a dog, living possibly in the suburbs of some great city?  What you probably never thought was that you’d be living in your mother-in-law’s house, in a small village in Upstate Western New York called Brockport (I’ve been here a month now and have learned that I don’t live in Upstate New York, but rather in Western New York–big difference, but more on that later), with 90% of your belongings in a snake-infested warehouse.  But what you probably never could have guessed is how much you’d like it!

So here we are, back in Mr. Bunches’ hometown, and so far–the reviews are good.  We’ve only started exploring, and I hope to post some of our discoveries soon . . . there’s a lot to say about Small Town America.  Of course, only recently has the weather started to cooperate–since we moved here on March 14th, we’ve had snow, ice, fog, rain, sun, wind . . . you name it, we’ve had it.  I’ve even experienced all of those in one day during my commute!  (One of the only drags about living in B’port is my 1+ hour commute to Buffalo every day, but knowing that it’s just temporary makes it bearable.)  But now I’m just willing it to be Spring, and Mother Nature seems to be cooperating:

It might not seem like much, but it’s something.  Mr. Bunches says that Spring explodes here–the trees can be bare one week and then everything will be in full bloom the next week.  I’m thinking the explosion will happen during our upcoming trip to the west coast, and we’ll come back to a lush green oasis (I can dream, right?).  Sigh.

But for now, here’s a picture of the M.I.L.’s home that she has so graciously offered us while we house-hunt in and around Buffalo.  Lucky for her she has a new home on Lake Ontario, so she doesn’t have to deal with us crazy kids 30-somethings, but we are so, so, so thankful to have such a great place to stay!  Isn’t it purdy?!  I’ve never lived in a single-family home before (growing up in NoVA meant lots of pretty great townhouses for us):

Now if we could just get that temperature dial to inch up a bit more . . .


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