Going Back to Move Forward

This critter spent a few days hunting in a pot of succulents on the picnic table outside our trailer door. 

We've finally been able to work out the details of all the traveling that needs to happen in the next three weeks.  There will be two round trips from Taos to Albuquerque for doctor visits, one round trip from Taos to Denver for Mike for work purposes, another trip up to Denver from Taos for a wedding and then, from there, a very early flight to Maine for the two of us.  While in Denver, my son will fly out from California, and we'll pass off the car and dog to him, and he'll drive down to Taos to watch the dog for us while we move.  From Bangor, we'll pick up a rental car and drive to our house an hour away.  Then, over the next few days, we'll pack and clean and try to sell some items we no longer need. 

We'll drive to Bangor to pick up a moving truck and bring it back to Milo.  We'll spend the few days after that filling it--and then we're off on a cross-country trip from the Northeast to the Southwest; we'll drive the truck to Taos, and hopefully arrive at the new rental house around the 1st of October.  Once unloaded, the truck will have to be returned in Santa Fe (over an hour from Taos), and someone will have to drive the car there as well to take the driver of the truck back to Taos.  My son will need to be taken back to an airport (likely Albuquerque) for his trip back to California.

Mike calculated the total traveled for each of the two us to be around four thousand miles.

And then there will be rest? No, unpacking boxes and getting settled.  And moving the fifth wheel out to the yard of the rental house after having been parked for three months at the rv park in town, where we've been living.  There's also the usual crap of moving into a new house, including getting the utilities switched over to our names and, since this house is wood-heated, getting enough firewood ordered and delivered to last us through the winter.

Mike is taking a week of vacation time during this process.  For the rest of it, he'll be working full-time and be on-call during his off hours.

Expensive, exhaustive, and very stressful.

While we're in Maine, we hope to meet with the real estate agent to talk about putting the Maine house on the market in the spring.  It's going to be tough, it already is, getting rid of the house and the property, even though I know it's the best overall decision.  I'm going to miss the pond, the garden, the woods, the ferns, our apple trees, and the back field filled with lupines, goldenrod, and daisies.  I'll miss our wood stove and our pantry.

 

Video:  Antony and the Johnsons, Another World 

I need another place

Will there be peace

I need another world

This one's nearly gone

Still have too many dreams

Never seen the light

I need another world

A place where I can go

I'm gonna miss the sea

I'm gonna miss the snow

I'm gonna miss the bees

I miss the things that grow

I'm gonna miss the trees

I'm gonna miss the sun

I miss the animals

I'm gonna miss you all

I need another place

Will there be peace

I need another world

This one's nearly gone

I'm gonna miss the birds

Singing all their songs

I'm gonna miss the wind

Been kissing me so long

Another world

Another world

Another world

Another world

It seems crazy to move out here permanently and get rid of the Maine house.  But it's not.  It was a dream I had when we were originally in New Mexico three years ago: it was a way to homestead affordably--land and houses are cheap in Maine, there's plenty of water for gardening there, and we were able to buy the house outright.  We never really wanted to leave New Mexico, but the prospect of having our own homestead and not going into debt to get it won out.  It turned out, though, that that vision of homesteading, and that house and property, were not workable or desirable for us.

I won't say it was a mistake.  It was, rather, a way to learn things about myself, my limits, and that a dream, once realized, does not always turn out to be what one actually wants.  I learned that despite my introvertedness, I still want in-person connections to people who are living interesting and thoughtful lives.  I want to live surrounded by a culture that is stimulating to me and that demonstrates that it values some of the same things I do.

I also learned that doing everything from scratch or as naturally as possible isn't always feasible for me, it isn't always the best use of natural or human resources, and it's not how I want to spend the bulk of my time, given the multiple kinds of things I find fulfilling.

I loved having chickens, for example.  I liked watching them and their interactions, seeing them free-range around the yard, and the idea of generating some of our own food.  But I don't have the strength to haul grain or clean their coop, the property was much cleaner and quieter without them, the dog was able to run around off-leash when they weren't there, and we were freer when we didn't have to be there twice a day to feed them and let them out in the morning and close them in in the evening.  It's expensive to get their housing established, feed them, and buy bedding.  And I just don't like to eat eggs that much.  So it's cheaper to buy a dozen local free-range eggs every few weeks at the grocery store.

The house was much too big, especially once my mother was settled in her own apartment elsewhere.  It wasn't the kind of house I wanted to be living in; it wasn't designed with the natural environment in mind, either in its layout or the materials it was built with, or for for the weather or the sun's movements.  The property was too large for us, and needed too much maintenance such as mowing, roof raking, shoveling, and plowing.  It was too close to a major paved road, had no privacy, and was unsafe for the dog, cats, chickens, or even us.

I'm trying to learn that missing something doesn't mean that I should stay with it.   And that ending or leaving something that I once wanted and worked hard at doesn't mean that I failed.

In other news, the monsoon rains and thunderstorms have been active.  The temperatures dropped in mid-August as the rains moved in.  It's been a pleasure to watch the storms build throughout the afternoon.  The sunsets have been spectacular.  And now that we'll be moving into a house where all of our water will come from the sky, I'm appreciative of every rain drop that falls.