A New Adventure

Toward the middle of July, I had an old friend pay a visit.  We had a great time together and decided I needed to venture north and visit him.  And then we decided that maybe my life could do with a real shakeup and I should just move.  So in the spirit of saying ‘yes’ to adventure, I said ok.  And that, folks, is how I ended up in West Virginia.

The hillside I see looking out the front
door of the cabin.  Makes me think of the
opening credits of Little House on the
Prarie!

Ellenboro is a tiny little town.  Their Wikipedia page says there are just over 360 residents, but I’m not so sure they didn’t count a few cats and dogs to get up to that number.  There’s a couple of little fast food restaurants, a convenience store/gas station, an insurance agent, a couple of other small businesses and a window factory.  The nearest grocery store is about 5 miles down the road and, while I’ve been getting by quite well, it does not have the selection of the big city grocers I am accustomed to shopping.  To find those kinds of stores, it’s 27 miles in one direction or 42 in the other.  Let’s just say those special purchases take some effort…

Part of the drive to the cabin after you
turn off Highway 50 and cross the creek.

I am staying in my friend’s hunting cabin on a burned out old farmstead that’s a couple of miles out of town.  The property, which is mostly leased out for natural gas wells, is primitive.  Power could be brought in fairly easily, but it hasn’t been done.  Right now anything electrical would require a generator.  And there isn’t one on site.  So, long story short:  there is no electricity.

Or indoor plumbing.

Or refrigeration.  Or a washer and dryer.  Or any of those other modern inventions we think we need to live.  

We don’t.  Think about camping.  There flashlights and lanterns to light your way.  And camp stoves to cook your food.  Or that nice big BBQ grill we moved with me.  Or the fire pit I’m currently assembling.

There’s a scary old outhouse. It’s functional, just frightening.  And next trip into a city, I am stopping at Home Depot or Lowes and getting the stuff to make a camping potty out of a 5-gallon bucket to shortcut some of those urgent and oh so inconvenient runs in the black of night.  Actually… I’m getting several buckets.  One for the potty, one for a clothes washer, 2-3 or whatever the plan says for a clothes wringer, and one to rig a shower.  You can go search Pinterest now or just stay tuned and I’ll post my misstep-by-misstep instructions, hints for using and a review of how well they work (or don’t) here over the next couple of weeks.

Ha!  I got all excited about 5-gallon buckets there and jumped ahead in the story.

Looking off one side of the submersible
bridge.  I'll do a whole post on it later.

There’s a creek.  The water is ice cold and pretty clear.  It's nowhere as muddy and brown as it looks in my photo... Not perfect but drinking it hasn’t hurt the dogs.  I’ve used some to rinse out a few clothes between laundromat visits.  And it’s been the site of more than one rather invigorating bath.  You have to cross the creek coming into the property by traversing a submersible bridge.  My friend calls it a submarine bridge… Which might be a good description after a storm or in the spring when there’s a lot of runoff.  A submersible bridge is made for water to flow across when it gets high enough.  Yes, you read that right.  Water flows over the top of the bridge.  On purpose.  And yes, the thought of driving across it when there’s water flowing over it kind of freaks me out. I think I could summon the bravery for it if there were only a few inches but from what I understand a few feet is not beyond the realm of possibility.  And that’s just plain scary!

The first few times down there, I saw minnows from ½ inch to 2 or so inches long.  I keep looking but so far nothing bigger for me to try catching for dinner.  Yesterday there was snake swimming for the far shore.  I didn’t scream.  Or cry.  Or jump and down.  I didn’t do much of anything but observe and try to get a good look at the shape of its head.  And then I dipped dog water as calm as you please.  And turned up an old brown glass medicine bottle.  I don’t have it cleaned up enough yet to make out more than “Vick’s” on the bottom but I think it’s a pretty cool find!

The Story of Us

Photo credit:  http://pinterest.com/pin/547680004654339661/

I've alluded to it a time or two, but I don't think -I've ever told you the story of how Derek and I became such an unlikely couple.

Last Wednesday, we celebrated his 28th birthday.  I'm 49.

I didn't know that when we first met...

And learning he was so much younger was a shock to my system that almost ended things before our romance even took off.  But I couldn't stop thinking about him.  And so, like a moth drawn to the flame, I kept getting closer.

Just like Taylor Swift says... "It's a love story.  Baby, just say yes!"

A little before my mom's final illness, I'd randomly clicked a Facebook link for a game.  I did it because a guy at work, a guy I kind of had a bit of a crush on, teased me incessantly about not playing games.  He probably thought I'd choose something like Farmville to master, but oh no... not me.  I clicked into a medieval war game.  In the game we sort of chose teams of other folks we wanted to be on our side in the waging of these imaginary wars.  People who would advise, help defend us and join in attacks of our pixelated imaginary enemies.  After a while, when mom needed 24/7 care and I'd had to leave my job to take care of her, the game, or more specifically the people from the game, became my link to the outside world.  I spent a lot of time there.  Finally Derek and I ended up on the same team.

Much of this game moves very slowly and huge amounts of time are dedicated to building cities, researching technologies and recruiting armies.  It left a lot of time to chat.  And over this game chatter we became friends.

And the friendship started spilling out into real life interests and plans.  We had a lot in common and even on the things where we are different, much of it is complimentary.  Then I noticed his age and had an epic meltdown.  I told myself he was just too young... it could never work... and horror of all horrors - his mom graduated high school the same year I did!!

It took some convincing, but we finally got back on the romance track.  Ask him.  He'll tell you he had to work at chasing me.

Several months after my mom passed away, he flew out to Salt Lake City to meet me and we decided there was a little spark and we really wanted to be more than just friends.  I'd decided to take 6 months to a year off after her passing to kind of recover mentally and emotionally and regroup and decide what I wanted from the rest of my life now that it was finally mine to live.

With no close family giving me roots to stay in Utah, we decided I would be the one to move.  But...

You knew there was a 'but' coming, huh?

But he didn't want to live in Salt Lake and I didn't want the lifestyle we'd have if I moved to metro-Washington DC where he lived.  We toyed with it both ways and it kind of came to a stalemate until we started looking in the smaller communities just outside of Atlanta.  Derek has family here so it felt like a natural move for him.  And the more I saw, the more I liked it.  (That hasn't changed after being here for 8 months now!)  We agreed to both make a move.

Planning began.  Oh, we had such grand plans!!  Although absolutely nothing has gone according to those plans...  There's been a lot more bumps and rough patches and scrambling to figure out what to do with a new set of circumstances than either of us could have anticipated but we're happy and together and writing our very own love story!