Personal Essays

Getting My Groove Back

iowa sun

As most of us alive in the 90s know, a very popular movie came out staring the gorgeous Angela Bassett. “How Stella Got Her Groove Back.” The story (for you young-ins) follows a middle-aged woman trying to bounce back from a divorce. She accomplishes this by entering a rather serious relationship with a young man in his twenties.

Perhaps it is not the most brilliant movie, but it does co-star Whoopi Goldberg, and I find her utterly delightful. Much like Meryl Streep, when Whoopi is in a movie, I can’t look away.

Excuse the digression. I’m a little rusty in my blogging.

The point I’m dancing around is that sometimes getting back into the groove of things takes time. That whole “balance” concept I’ve been craving since I began blogging in 2012…well that takes time too. And dear Mr. Saturn has not been helping me out. In fact, he’s the one that started this whole mess.

I had a major shift in my life recently…ah….umm…seven months ago. I began a new career. And, thus, the hours of my life became all tipsy turvy.

Then I saw that movie, “Frozen,” and have since been running around “letting go” of past worries, concerns and moving forward. (And enjoying that fact that there is a THIRD redheaded Disney princess-awesome! Statistically I’m sure there are more redheaded Disney princesses per Disney princesses than actual percentage of redheads in the world.)

You need to see that movie.

This past summer when the great MC Hardy passed away, I lost the opportunity to share the most exciting news of my life with him. There were countless times when myself and the fella would sit on the davenport and hear stories about my grandparent’s first home. Stories of the little apartment and how you needn’t not rush into homeownership. Even when he first became ill, I would talk to him about yet another property that we were looking at. I wanted to share this moment with him so badly, that when the moment finally came, some of the excitement bubbled into a mass of nothingness and emptiness.

So how could I share all of this with him? How do I share the experiences I know he would silently chuckle about while sinking into his big armchair? I suppose the only way I know how, by sharing them with everyone else. So here it is Marv: the start of my many many stories.



Yes. After four years of searching, the fella and I have found the ol’ homestead. Well, to be honest, we found this property a couple of years ago. But…let’s just say it’s been a long two years and one month to get the whole thing straightened out. For those of you who know our house-hunt back story, I know you are cheering wildly for the fella and myself.

Another radical lifestyle change is in play right now. You see, we purchased a “special” property. One that is unusual enough that it took a whole month after our offer was accepted to move forward with the purchase (can I just say I have no desire to speak to any banks ever again?). We waited in limbo with the possibilities changing every other day. Until the SOLD sign was finally placed on the property last Thursday.

Which, all of sudden meant, we were moving. In three weeks. Eek!

And, not into the house. (That’s a story for another post).


See that house? Beauteous, isn’t it?

You can be honest. It’s not. Not beauteous.

Oohhh! And there’s some of our land! The land totals about 4.5 acres.


Hey look! An old barn/shed/leaning tower of Iowa on the property!

The house isn’t quite livable yet. The romanticism of living in a house that is 114 years old makes life exciting. The fella is a pretty handy guy. And while I have dreamed about my old, well-worn house, he has dreamed of building and fixing and repairing. Looks like we both have our wish!

So the American dream is really coming true for us. Owning a home (and more importantly, owning some land). Someday, people in our small town will talk about the Pedersen property (though I not-so-secrectly hope the use the term homestead instead) as if it always existed. I will have my garden. There will be a dog. The fella will have his shops (yes, plural) and there will be a phenomenal music studio. Maybe even chickens if we can figure out how to swing that in city limits.

It’s starting.

My life is starting.

And I want to welcome you into it. (As I sent up my posts to heaven and imagine Marv reading them-which is a little ridiculous as her never had a computer in his life, but grief allows for ridiculocity).

So the direction is changing, the groove has shifted. But here we are. And I am about to take you on the journey with me. This blog will follow the resurrection of an old beauty. It will follow how two crazy musicians had a dream to live a simpler life in a rural community and then actually made it happen.

Who knew?

Stay tuned.




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