The Beginning:

A Dream Coming True

July 2015

I don’t know how to get there. Not without navigation. My new home. How often have I pulled up Google maps and looked at its satellite view and then clicked over to the old (current) neighborhood? How many times have I tried to zoom out just right to compare the size of the land and approximate distance from other humans?

It may not be vast if you come from old landowner stock. Or if you live in Wyoming. But for us, it’s amazing.

dirtquest1

It’s a brick ranch built in 1977 on four acres with woods and a pond with the option to buy a smaller brick earth house on 5 acres that shares the pond and is currently occupied by a renter.

Remember that movie, I Bought a Zoo? It feels a bit like that. Wonderfully overwhelming with a tinge of terrifying if you think about it too much. My dirt covered fantasy is getting closer to becoming tangible and it’s a lot to take in. There is so much thumb twiddling left to do while we nervously await nods of approval from inspectors and appraisers and banks.

Today is Friday. That means an evening anticipating a visit to the new place tomorrow morning. We get to go and tag items, tools and such, that we’d like them to leave for us. They have already agreed to leave us two riding mowers and an old piano that could use some love. I’m not so interested in the tools. I should be, and one day when I begin projects that require actual tools, it’s certain that I will be cursing myself. But what I really want to do first is to look at the trees at the front of the property. The well inspector said he knew the property and told us there were a bunch of pecan trees somewhere and I bet those are the ones. Then I need a long moment to sneak off into the woods behind the pond. I haven’t been back there yet. The day we went to look at the main house and property I had a freshly sprained ankle. The day we went to look at the rental and make an offer, I was trying not to seem overly interested in the place. Walking through Fairy Tale Woods would have surely blown my poker face. So tomorrow I will perfunctorily look at some implements of which I have no knowledge and then run off. That’s the plan. It’s a stupid one.

Perhaps I should do something productive and put my closet into boxes this evening (wine in hand of course) while I dream. I do love my closet. It’s a small cozy room. It kept me safe the night I felt like the world was collapsing around me. I’ll miss it for sure. This place has been a good one.

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Author: Morgan Mill

Thanks for reading!

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