I said goodbye to the farm Saturday and I'm only now recovering.
It turned out to be less sad and more of a HUGE pain in the ass. So much work, you guys, you have no idea. Once Joel moved out, I did ZERO maintenance on the house. No yard work. No cleaning. I could barely take the garbage out.
I didn't want to be there.
Gunzmont Farm was home. Imperfect, always, but there was a time when it was full of love. It wasn't so much that *I* wanted to be there; I just wanted a place to make a family with the man I loved. Sadly, that never happened.
And that house got so. cold.
I couldn't spend another winter there. I wouldn't have survived it. I wish I didn't mean that literally.
So the goodbye was long enough overdue so as to be completely uneventful. The hardest part, honestly, was saying goodbye to Sage (my room mate). I dropped her and Alex's old busted IKEA dresser off at her new punk house and tried to keep my heart out of it. Both of us died a little in that house.
You know your house has bad mojo when you spend ten days in an another state and you have no desire whatsoever to even look at your front door when you get back. Or when you can't wait to move in to a house where a dear friend's husband tragically took his own life less than two months ago.
This house is already SO MUCH BETTER than the farm. We haven't even begun unpacking (Cyn insisted I write a blog post first), but there is more love and acceptance and kindness in Cynthia's dumpster than there was in the pinkie toe of Gunzmont Farm. This place already feels like family.
The kids are stoked! They don't want to leave the house except to go snake hunting across the street. I mean, just the look on Alex's face says it all:
The move was not easy. The U-haul dealership towed my car even after specifically telling me where I could park it. I lost a day (and $250) getting Lola out of jail and the repairs/clean-up on the house cost me a small fortune. In between all of it, I worked 10-hour shifts on my feet and routinely stayed up till 2AM hanging in the back yard with My People.
I have no idea where I found the energy to make it all happen, but I'm guessing it's about fourteen minutes from my front door any time I need it.
Let the Great Unpackening commence!