Home internet died for a long while (perils of country living),.
Camera died (perils of small children who are rough with…well…everything).
But. Good things.
First: I made reservations to go to Sundance, where my sister is showing her latest film, Born Sweet. I missed it last time, not this time, and I am on my way there right this very second.
Seriously. In the airport here. And? May I just say? It is much, much easier to get through security without two small children.
But, all that said, I’ve been more focused on something else: moving. We’re moving! Eight miles away, mind you, but still. Packing up everything, hauling it to a new location, unpacking it again, only to wonder: was it really worth bringing this to a new location?
In some ways this is nonsensical. The real estate market! She is so terrible! And this is true. There are not many buyers out there, and those who are there are looking to pay about 4 cents per square foot. Which, if I’m not mistaken, is we are selling our house for.
And. We have a good home. And. We have beautiful views. And. We put so much work into our house. And. And. And.
Our Little House in the Big Woods is far from anywhere. That, in fact, is what sold us on the place. It is peaceful. It is beautiful. In the summer, we hear so many birds it is a veritable cacophony. In the winter, the silence is stunning. We have witnessed almost every variety of wildlife from our window: Barn owls. Wild turkeys. Eagles. Coyotes. Snapping Turtles. Smooth green snakes. Fox. Rabbits. Pheasants. A couple of summers ago, during a thunderstorm, I stood in our doorway watching the rain fall over the valley, and a moose sauntered just past me. It’s just a lovely, incredible place to spend time.
Except that I don’t spend time at home. I seem to spend it in the car, driving from home to elsewhere. It was fine, it was perfect, it was my dream come true, until I had two kids who entered school. And now, somehow, we seem to spend all our spare time not hunting for salamanders and planting strawberries, as I once expected, but driving. Driving, driving, driving. You know those fake license plates that say “Mom’s Taxi?” That is me. Expect that I don’t get paid, and too many taxi rides are spent with a three year old crying, “it’s too long. Home is too long away!”
It hurts a little. Giving up the wild berries in the summer, the ability to snowshoe out our back door in winter. We are giving up the sound of coyotes howling at night (okay, that might not be for everyone, but I always really liked it), the ability to shower and pee with the curtains open, because if anybody is out there looking in, we’ve got bigger problems then the fact that someone might accidentally see my hooha.
If all goes well — and again, who knows, because the real estate market, she really is a mess— we will have neighbors again, which will be an adjustment, and a whole lot less commuting, which I think will be less of an adjustment. We will also have a sweet old house that was owned by an older couple, both since passed away, that ran a country hardware/general store for many decades. That touches me. The general store has since been replaced by a high end clothing retailer that caters to second home owners. But this couple’s house…I don’t know. It remains sweet, and feels like a place that was loved.
In the basement, there is a small woodshop, where there is, tacked up on the wall, a hand-sketched plan for a small set of stairs. There is sawdust on the table beneath. Was the set of stairs ever built, I can’t help but wonder? On the walls are framed pieces of crewelwork and embroidery, another project by the former homeowners, I suspect.
I’m telling you: it’s sweet.
We might remove the carpeting from the kitchen floor, we might do a little painting, but that sweetness: we want to keep that.
We close in fewer than 3 weeks, we move in March. Big couple of months.
Here we go. More from Sundance, y’all!