Time passes and we move to the country

Wow, how I've let it all go. The writing, the art, everything for me. And now, I'm damn mad. Angry and bitter inside, to go with the negative attitude my sixteen year old is carting around. The babies are bigger now, and much more work. The significant man in my life is still a man, and we are having our own share of issues. Perhaps the stress of moving, finally, has accumulated into one big dysfunctional family situation.

I've been dreaming of a self-sustainable lifestyle for years. At one point I wanted nothing more than to move to NM, build an Earthship and live off the arts and crafts I made with my own two hands. I wanted to throw everything away and begin again, allowing only handmade items into my house. I started quilting and making clothes for my two little girls. But the dream was put on the back burner for a while as I finished college and found a crummy job to make ends meet. We did make it to NM eventually, and remodeled an old adobe barn into a passive solar house, but that was more about the man in my life and less about living sustainably, and that's another story. Now he's jumped on the bandwagon, I'm happy to say.

In July of 09, we found a piece of property in southern Colorado with a manufactured home on it (yep, a double-wide, but new...2006).



Only two and a half acres, but it was all we could find in our price range. And they allow chickens. I got ten chicks in March and we bought a chicken barn and kept them in the backyard when the weather got warm enough. Turns out one of the chicks was a rooster. Oops. Not allowed in the city. Our realtor had an uncle who took him with one of the hens. He lives in the country. That was when we were thinking we'd never find a place. Financing is crazy these days and we only qualified for an FHA loan. Well, they have lots of stipulations about properties, and many of the old houses I liked would never qualify. So here we are in a very nice, modern, clean and FHA passable manufactured home. Not perfect. The house has no personality. The land is dry, on the verge of desert like, but it's what we can do now. I'm okay with that. Maybe.

I still dream of an old farmhouse on lots of land with no covenants, but Maine is far too cold and way too far away. Sometimes I drive around this rural farming community and look for my old house. I found it yesterday. Perfect old Victorian surrounded by pastures and it has a couple of delightful old barns too. Wonderful.



It's not for sale. And how much would it be if it was? A girl can dream...