So it’s been about six weeks since I moved up here to the Blue Ridge. I thought some of you might like an update.
With my Moon in Taurus, I don’t like big changes and I especially don’t like big changes to my living arrangements. (And if you think that I don’t like change, let me introduce you to my two cats. And, of course, there’s a feedback loop. The more that I’m worried and upset about change, the more upset the cats get. And the more upset the cats get . . . you see where this is going.)
Almost all of the big mistakes I’ve made in my life have had to do with staying too long — in relationships, jobs, living arrangements, etc. So this time, when my Bit of Earth told me it was time to move, I listened.
Selling my beloved cottage and garden, buying a new home under construction (in a development under construction), managing the finances, going through everything I owned, packing things up — all of it made me pretty crazy (although, as the First Ex-Mr. Hecate used to say: “Too late.”) In the end, as it often does, it all worked out for the good. Two dear friends came up, on the day the movers moved me in, and helped get the vast majority of “stuff,” — dishes, pots, pans, wine glasses, spices, cat supplies, shoes, pictures, etc. — into place. And then I spent about a month shelving books, organizing closets, figuring out where everything was, rearranging the furniture.
And, now, here I am, beginning to find my way around, getting to know people and the local politics, taking the long way to the grocery store and stopping to chat with the local deer. I’m so happy that I made this move.
Here, in random order, are some pictures of my new place.
Above is Nimue, about an hour after getting here from her several-day stay at the cat spa. Although she looks worried in this picture, she’s adjusted pretty well to the move.
Here she is a few days later, offering to help me organize my desk.
Here are Merlin and Nimue with my new chandelier. It’s a copy of the one in the Gamble House in California. I’m still deciding whether I think it’s too bulky or not.
If you walk one block to the end of my street, the development dead-ends at a local farm. Several of the cows like to cool off in the pond.
Here’s Merlin, resting in the afternoon sun. He’s had a harder time adjusting to the move, but he’s going to get there.
The nearest little town is White Post and you can see how it got its name. The local legend is that, in a throwback to Pagan customs, George Washington buried a sixpence beneath the original post.
On this morning’s walk, I saw Canada Geese feeding at the farm. Autumn is coming.
The local area is known for its orchards. Yesterday, I drove past this lovely tree, weighed down with ripe apples.
Earlier this week, I took the long way to the grocery store. Apparently, the deer don’t read the signs.
This is the kind of amazing view that lifts my soul. You’re looking at an old tree, a fertile corn field, fluffy white clouds, and those lovely blue mountains.
Spotted on my morning walk. Wild datura growing in disturbed earth, I think.
I keep wanting to do a story about houses here from a gothic novel.
So that’s your tour of my Place.
I’d love to see or hear about yours.