I had some time to reflect on this journey as I sat in the pew of the church yesterday. How far I had come, how impossible the journey seemed at the start. How may obstacles and roadblocks, climbed and dismantled.
The meadow, with all its richness of animal and plant life had become my prison. Distance and an ugly lane that threatened any vehicle that had the nerve to attempt it, served to keep me embraced in a love-hate relationship that grew more to hate, sad to say. I resented my lack of mobility and distance I must go to get to the most mundane of destinations.
Having the most loving of husbands, he declared that I had given him twelve wonderful years in the meadow, and it was now my turn to live out my dream.
And so we find ourselves here. Here in Las Cruces, New Mexico, where the terrain is so very different, and the weather is no longer my enemy. Saturday, I went to our Farmer’s market, and purchased a fine walking stick from a lovely gentleman who makes them as his retirement hobby. And today I set out away from the neighborhood and into the foothills to see what I could see.
A rough dirt road leads east towards the mountains, following a line of electric poles. A building stands in the distance, belonging no doubt to the building contractor who was forced to abandon his plans when the housing market collapsed three plus years ago. It is that collapse that allowed us to purchase a huge home thousands of dollars cheaper than we would otherwise been able to afford.
A third of a mile along the route, a side road veers off to the right and begins a meandering weave still heading east but in a less explicit way. I scan back and forth for snakes and other unfriendlies but see nary a thing, just the desert grasses and tiny cactus plants littering the sand. Off in the distance, I can see mean looking houses and perhaps a trailer or two, suggesting that there is another neighborhood out here. I can hear a dog or two, but that is all. Few if any birds seem interested in the land, though it is still quite cool this Monday morning.
After about twenty minutes, I feel my legs, which suggests that perhaps I’ve gone far enough this time, and I turn back. I see an old pickup running along the electric lines, that main “road” I had doglegged off from. It continues on to where the pavement begins, slowing down and dropping carefully over the curb and then proceeding off to the highway.
I returned home tired but happy and an hour later, I headed off to the aquatic center to start my second new adventure–swimming laps three days a week, and the senior discount of $1.50 per hour. And from there, a stop at the grocery store to get the food necessary to create a few pleasant meals.
My arms hurt from movements they haven’t made in way too long. My legs get stronger and feel pretty good. The Contrarian is off to Lowe’s to but picture hangers, and grass killer to get ready for the renovation of our back yard. We have a lot of stuff to buy this week, a gas grill, table for the patio, a desk and chair for his office, and some kitchen cabinets and counter for my craft room. And of course some 7-8 bookcases to buy for the library. Then the rest of the boxes to be moved in, and back to unpacking.
But the end is near.
We have the car retitled and registered and we will get our new driver’s licenses and voter registration before the end of the week.
And then there is all the other plans. The hope that I can find volunteer work at the mission or at a food pantry. The traveling we wish to do to the Grand Canyon and to Taos. And we must visit Carlsbad of course, it’s only a couple of hours away or so.
It is a new life. It is a new commitment. It is my dream come true.
What is your dream? Are you living it now? Are you working on it?
Until the next time!
My dream? It’s to live a meaningful life by contributing to social justice and having a circle of good friends. And to do fun stuff. I can honestly say that I’m living such a life now, and that gives me joy.
I think you are fulfilling your dream quite well Ahab. Nobody works harder to keep up alerted to the important issues of the day than you do. I admire your tenacity.
Billie Greenwood (@BorderExplorer) said:
I’m going to enjoy following your adventures and learning from what you explore.
We certainly hope to have a few of them!
“A Journey of a Thousand Miles. . . .” begins with making sure you have enough clean underwear.
Now that is some sage advice. Clean underwear is useful in most every undertaking.
If you make it up to Taos in the summertime, keep heading north about 30 minutes more until you come to Red River. Its a ski resort in the winter but its delightful during the summer too. July is perhaps the best month to visit with popular festivities for the region. The whole town has an old Bavarian flavor to it. I’ve spent three previous summers there and I have fallen in love with it.
Oh that does sound interesting. I understand the canyons are quite lovely up that way as well. Surely a large state to explore!
Jerry Faulkner (@aThornAmongMany) said:
“The end is near.” — I’ve never quite figured out when the end has happened and the beginning is underway 🙂 Those questions…your dream? living it now? working on it? Funny how questions that contain so few words seem to be the most difficult to answer. It feels good to see your dreams take root and begin to grow.
I agree Jerry, the shortest questions usually are the hardest to answer. I think we all move in and out of our dream and it’s realization, and certainly our dreams change over time. I just hope I can be a useful person in the remainder of my life. Bless ya.
I’m livin’ the dream, or is that scream? Anyway, things are good for me, but may soon go down the shitter when the Wife and I start re-modeling our kitchen 🙂
I love to hear that Hansi. Hope the remodeling goes well. Those things are very difficulty, especially that room. It’s a mess. Grin and bear it and go out to eat a lot.
I feel like I’ve been in a holding pattern since we moved here six years ago. I miss my kids and I miss the desert. It is a beautiful place, but the people are very conservative. I just feel so out of place here. I live for the day when this leg of OUR journey is over. Snow is over-rated! 😉
Jan Hilton said:
Sherry, you give me hope that maybe I’ll be brave enough to move! Good awarenesses, as always, my friend. You’re home!
Be sure to also go see Zion Canyon…simply beautiful.
@jan Take the leap. After growing up in the summers and spending thirteen years in Chicago as an adult, I made the leap and moved to Marquette, MI, fourteen years ago. Go for it! Follow your heart.
Suburbs, not summers. :: sigh::
Snoring Dog Studio said:
I love your story of a new start. It’s beautiful. I can see this brand new world through your eyes, through your words, and I feel so happy!
So happy for you – sounds (and looks) like a wonderful location – and your house looks great too! I don’t think I’m living our dream yet – my husband is still working, so we are stuck in New Jersey!
I have the meadow, trees and all that. I am glad that you are happy. I am living my dream also. So thankful. Live is good.