We did it. We moved from our cabin in the Coulter pine, canyon oak, scrub oak chaparral country outside Lake Hughes, California to a bit of juniper, manzanita, scrub oak chaparral outside Prescott, Arizona. It’s similar, but different.
You’d think going from a tiny one-bedroom home, where we slept in a Murphy bed in the living room to keep warm by the woodstove, to this comparative castle would be a cinch, both logistically and emotionally.
Not so. The junk transport required three U-Haul trucks, two of them with car trailers in tow, and several carloads of boxes and bags.
Most of our ‘treasures’ came not from the house itself, but from a storage unit full of keepsakes; a garage stuffed with tools, a tractor and multiple unfinished car projects; and from my husband’s extensive office library at work. Yeah, we filled the place right up.
Most of our ‘treasures’ came not from the house itself, but from a storage unit full of keepsakes; a garage stuffed with tools, a tractor and multiple unfinished car projects; and from my husband’s extensive office library at work. Yeah, we filled the place right up.
Surprisingly—or maybe not so much—the tangible things have not been as troublesome as the emotional baggage we carry.
We loved that crap shack through fourteen years of fire and flood; rattlesnakes, gnats, mice, and ants; brush clearance in summer and diligent feeding of the woodstove in winter. (That woodstove gave off the most glorious heat, though it didn’t come easy.)
We loved that crap shack through fourteen years of fire and flood; rattlesnakes, gnats, mice, and ants; brush clearance in summer and diligent feeding of the woodstove in winter. (That woodstove gave off the most glorious heat, though it didn’t come easy.)
What I loved most were the critters who kept me company as I worked from home in my tiny office area by the window, there under our big old oak tree. The hummingbirds, quail, lizards, gopher snakes, and scrub jays. A rare bobcat or fox. Coyotes, hawks, owls and bats, I loved them all.
And back when it used to rain, that delicious damp dirt smell, and the sound of the trickling stream, and how the post-storm light brought out a thousand shades of green.
And back when it used to rain, that delicious damp dirt smell, and the sound of the trickling stream, and how the post-storm light brought out a thousand shades of green.
My husband and I thought we’d never leave our combination Hell hole/paradise. We never wanted to, but LA County permits and California taxes drove us out.
The critters here in Arizona are again my favorite.
Since settling in we’ve seen wildlife galore, from the lowly Hercules beetle, through hummingbirds, quail, coyotes, javalina, bobcats and foxes, all the way up (in size, not importance) to mule deer and curious cattle.
I’m told we have elk and even mountain lions, though I still look forward to spotting these.
Since settling in we’ve seen wildlife galore, from the lowly Hercules beetle, through hummingbirds, quail, coyotes, javalina, bobcats and foxes, all the way up (in size, not importance) to mule deer and curious cattle.
I’m told we have elk and even mountain lions, though I still look forward to spotting these.
If the last few months are any indication, this will be a grand adventure. My hope is to find time to share photos and stories about my new neighbors--the animals, plants, rainbows and sunsets here in my new digs.
I hope folks stop by my blog to see, but if they don't, this'll make a nice record for my reminiscence in years to come.
I hope folks stop by my blog to see, but if they don't, this'll make a nice record for my reminiscence in years to come.
If you do stop by, please leave a note so I know you’re out there!
