Well,  not SOME people . . . . MOST people.

And not a little crazy.

A LOT crazy.

I had a massive garage sale, packed what was left of our earthly belongings into a 24 foot Budget moving truck and sold my house in the Southern California desert, 15 minutes from the Mexican border and moved East.

Not just a little East . . . but 3000 miles East to Northern Vermont.                                         To a town where I had no job, no job prospects, no home.                                          No nothing.

The kids and I and a wonderful friend ~ dear, dear Charles ~ loaded two dogs, five cats and two ferrets into the van, cashed out my retirement, and drove.

The decision to move only took me 24 years to make.                                                             I like to consider all angles . . . and plan . . . and plan some more.                                                                                                                                Yeah . . . decisiveness is not one of my strong traits.                                                                                                                                  I guess I could say that I finally realized that life is short and                                                     I decided to follow my dream                                                                                                    or that I no longer wished to live 10 minutes away from my ex-husband or I needed to embrace my inner sense of adventure                                                                                  but that wouldn’t be entirely true.

I found the courage to turn our lives upside down because of my son.

.

I had been packed and ready to move to Texas, South Carolina,                                   ANYWHERE for 24 YEARS.                                                                                                      Vermont was the latest dream.                                                                                         During the horrendous 120 degree summers, I would search the internet,                     order Chamber of Commerce information,                                                                         drool over pictures of trees and rivers and waterfalls and covered bridges.

We had home-schooled for his entire life and he wanted to try public high school . . .                                                                                 BUT not the high school in the town where we lived.                                                                                                                                               On that point, he was adamant.                                                                                          And I wanted this for him.                                                                                                          And I grabbed this excuse with both hands.

 And in my wishing and planning (and remember, I did a LOT of wishing and planning)        I had found the town of  St. Johnsbury, Vermont                                                                     which just so happened to have one of the best private/public choice                               high schools on the East Coast.                                                                                       Sooooo . . .  it was decided.

We arrived and within a week rented a farmhouse built around 1860                                           from the most wonderful landlord/lady.                                                                               They exude such warm, positive energy                                                                                   and even lowered the rent and waived the security deposit                                                                                     so that we could have the house.

Sarita ~ wonderful landlady ~ said that I needed to be in this house ~                                this house with a stained glass window in a quiet neighborhood                                          at the top of a hill                                                                                                                    where I can grow lilies and snapdragons and bee balm and hydrangeas                           and listen to the crows argue with the blue jays                                                                 and where my neighbor brings us                                                                                            fresh baked blueberry muffins and homemade raspberry jam.

I turned 50 in May.                                                                                                                        If you’d asked the 17 year old me or the 25 year old me about how the path of my life would evolve, well, I would have to be honest and say that this life, in this particular packaging wasn’t in the plans ~ raising three kids alone,                                                                        a country away from my immediate family,                                                                       trying to figure out how to make a living doing what I love                                                    and figuring out who I am                                                                                                       and what that means in the whole scheme of things.

I thought I’d have it all figured out.                                                                                                    But I have learned that no one really does have it all figured out                                           and if they say they do,                                                                                                            they’re lying or not paying attention.

Life is filled with twists and unexpected turns                                                                   where left can turn into right with a blink of the proverbial eye                                                                                                               and one can find oneself falling down a rabbit hole                                                                      into uncharted territory faster than one can even begin to imagine outside                                                                                     Wonderland.

And what have I learned on this 3000 mile trip down the rabbit hole?

That new can be scary, but falling down the rabbit hole is mostly about attitude and if you fall through the scary                                                                                                you can get to awesome.

]]> http://penpaperandcrow.wordpress.com/2012/01/15/19/feed/ 0 a year of finding me Copy (2) of Move to Vermont 010 Copy (2) of Move to Vermont 188 Copy (2) of Move to Vermont 190 Copy of Move to Vermont 168 40812_1534620158921_1037310025_1585265_8202296_n http://penpaperandcrow.wordpress.com/2012/01/05/hello-world/ http://penpaperandcrow.wordpress.com/2012/01/05/hello-world/#comments Thu, 05 Jan 2012 03:28:14 +0000 Tammy Novinger-Hartsock http://penpaperandcrow.wordpress.com/?p=1 Continue reading →]]>                                    Welcome to Pen, Post and Crow.                                                                   I am sooooooo happy you stopped by. I hope you take away something inspiring, thought-provoking or educational. I will be sharing my journey to publication, snippets of my daily life as a mom, teacher, writer, goddess-in-training, and my hopes and dreams. I’m looking forward to meeting you!