(way down there in the sunny part of the clearing you can see the fenced corner of my future garden.)
I’m almost afraid to write about it. As though maybe we were blessed by mistake. I’m telling you, this future home is a piece of heaven and nothing short. Exactly as planned, we slogged through Walmart and bought two sleeping bags, one giant aero bed, two small oak TV tables, two folding chairs, two candle thingies, and a bottle of champagne. And then we hunkered down to christen our new, future home.
(I took this picture at the same time of day I took the urban dusk photo in the previous post)
In the morning, we awoke to the haze burning off the mountains and by 10 am, I used the zoom, just a little, and took this photo of our view from the stone patio right outside the kitchen door.
(the nearest peak is Mt. Pisgah; the furthest is almost 50 miles away, Cold Mountain)
We had to go to town a couple times for basics: broom and mop and vinegar and Dawn and the world’s cheapest floor lamp. We also got hung up in the curtain department at Target because I had to put up some kind of inexpensive window coverings for the time when we get the house rented. I searched through racks of nondescript curtains, never finding exactly the right number of the right length and I also kept coming up short on curtain rods. I used the tension kind because I don’t want any holes in the perfect, unmarked woodwork window frames. The whole time, Rich sort of stood in the store aisle moaning feebly like a woman in the mid-stages of labor. It was annoying and pathetic. Then we headed into Asheville for a great dinner at Doc Chey’s Noodle House (click the link and watch until you see the sumo wrestles in PEACE LOVE NOODLES outfits.)
Most all our time we spent camped around our lovely fireplace (it draws perfectly, no smoke or soot!), hiked some lovely mountain trails, bought one each of 12 different kinds of apples at the nearby orchard, and took in the beauty and wonder of our new (unmortgaged) home. On Sunday, we met some of our new neighbors. One of them, a delightfully spry woman of about 80, took us on a glorious 2 mile hike and then called a half dozen other neighbors to alert them to our arrival. One woman goes back and forth between her place near us in Sugar Hollow and, guess where? Chicago! I missed her call but I have her number so I’m planning on calling her tomorrow to get acquainted.
(This little clearing might some day house a studio or guesthouse.)
Now we need to find a renter. This makes me a little sad. The house is so impeccably fine and perfect that I want to live there now, but we have to wait a couple years. As a result, I’m trying to look selectively for the just right person or couple to be there until we can be. I’m mostly trying the word of mouth approach so if you know of anyone who might want to live in paradise for a year or so, be sure and send them my way. The price is right for people who will love it and care for it until we can.
Back here in the windy city, Chicago is living up to it’s name today- cold and blustery. Although, really, Chicago was nick-named the ‘windy city’ for her blustery politicians rather than her bitter winter clime. That’s true. Which reminds me. Tomorrow, I’m making my Halloween pumpkin. Yes We Carve.