(I don’t think that plays the audio, so you’ll have to search your memory.)
BUT. Do I have news for you. Holy buckets, holy guacamole, holy cow, holy moses, holy toledo, holy everything. Hold on to your hats, your neckerchiefs, your knickers–whatever else might not be pinned down. We have had an insane (INSANE) few months and I figured it was about time to let you in on it.
I don’t even know where to start. The beginning might be the best. But where exactly is the beginning of the chaos? Hmmm.
You know those worksheets the counselor gives you–that tell you to circle all of the stressors in your life, at the current moment? The ones that sort of rate the top stressors, like moving, a new job, a birth, a death, a marriage, a divorce. Life-changing experiences basically.
Right. Well, we ticked off a WHOLE bunch of those starting February 1 of this year. Since that time it feels like I’ve been treading water in a swimming pool that just keeps having water added to it, so that at this time my nose is barely above the surface. Kind of like when the iceberg calved a chunk of ice the size of Greenland (yes, the island nation that wasn’t for sale) into the North Atlantic Ocean and the water rose. I’ve got some icebergs calving and some sea levels rising. And some circuses to run and some cats to herd. With a few chickens added in just for fun.
What in the Sam Hello am I blathering on about?
Major. Life. Changes.
Dear Husband (from here on out referred to as “DH”) decided to explore new career possibilities. At the beginning of February he unfurled his wings and began working for a land reclamation company, headquartered several miles away.
Yes, this created a domicile disturbance.
We looked high and low and prayed to the realtor gods & goddesses. (Yes, those are a thing…you didn’t know this?)
Someone said the right thing to somebody or some god/goddess and voila! A new house/home.
I’m leaving out the weeks and weeks and weeks of hair-pulling-out madness in trying to get a mortgage for said house. True and utter insanity ensued. My theory: mortgage companies don’t really want you to get a mortgage. They make the hoops impossibly high and impossibly small that you are required to jump through, so that eventually your spirit is broken and you walk away saying “I didn’t really want to buy that house anyway.” Holy Mary Mother of God but that was intense.
On the other hand, because the process was fraught with ups and downs rivaling Mt. Everest and the Marianas Trench, by the time it came to sign the papers and walk in the front door of our new home, we were all exhausted. Saying goodbye to our little slice of heaven that had been our refuge for 10 years seemed like an afterthought. Dear daughter (DD) and I were incredibly worried at how sad we might feel. We weren’t sure what the Universe had in store for us and were hesitant to take the first step to find out.
Oddly, our first sign that we were going to be ok came as we drove home from signing the papers for the new house. The title company was a few hours away so we’d left mid-morning. A storm must have come through while we were away as the road in was a muddy mess (something which I do NOT miss). As we approached the overhead, the sun was setting in the west and shining brightly, as if the Heavens had parted and our last drive in was being serenaded. I came around the curve and lying on the ground, blocking the road, was the overhead! Toppled over into our path. As if to say “it’s ok that you go now; our time here has been magnificent and I have stood guarding you faithfully. But now I’m weary and I need to lie down and rest awhile. So go on your journey, with my blessing.”
Maybe it wasn’t really saying that. Maybe the wood had finally rotted out at the base; maybe the storm that had come through blew it over.
But DD and I like our interpretation as it helped us to say goodbye.
So, we moved.
This is already long enough. You don’t need me to elaborate on the move. Suffice it to say: “We moved.” I’ll spare you the intensity, the chaos, the madness, the sadness, the eagerness, the excitement, the exhaustion, the friends and family who helped, the apprehension, the fun, the not-so-fun.
Spring (which is pretty much nonexistent here) yielded LOTS of snow at our new abode. Holy moses. Snow in May and June (on the Summer Solstice no less).
End of year dance recital, summer camps (first ever week-long sleep-away camp for the DD!!) including Survival Camp and Camp Wild, Theater Camp to put on a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and dance camps. Mountain bike rides, dinners with friends, hiking with canine buddies. Rainbows, rain, wildflowers. Bright blue September skies. Fall foliage.
Saying goodbye to old friends.
Welcoming new ones.
Now you’re caught up.
I’m sure I’ve left out myriad details and colorful tidbits, but it’s late. And I’m tired.
We’re not far from our previous abode, but we feel we belong here, in our new slice of Heaven.
The coffee is always on. The dogs are always ready for new faces to lick and belly-rubs to receive. Stop by if you’re in the neighborhood.
Be grateful for what is. This moment is all we have. Soak up the sunshine. Smell the aspen carpet. Be dazzled by the brilliance of Nature’s palette.