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Welcome to our new home!

Our New Home
Colorado Springs, Colorado
Friday, October 19, 2012

Twelve days ago, we posed on our new front porch.  We were happy and excited to be finally moving to our new home.

Wow, were we ever naive.

We hadn't moved yet.

Everything seemed orderly in our lives.

We had finally sold the home we had loved so well for so long.

We had purchased the home we had fallen in love with in my hometown of Colorado Springs.

We celebrated by spending a wonderful, last evening in Pueblo at The Rusted Poppy Inn, a wonderful bed and breakfast.

I'll have to tell you all about that great place later.

I took lots of pictures.

The place is awesome.

The next morning we were supposed to begin our move.
I will spare you the details.
Let's just say we had the move from the hot place.
Our movers were less than competent.
It took them three days to complete the task.
At 9:30 p.m. on Sunday, the third day of this move, I was so fried mentally, emotionally and physically, I left our new home, and my credit card to pay the movers,  in the hands of my competent oldest daughter by marriage, Jim's daughter Thia, and went to the hotel to go to bed.
She, her husband, and her son stayed at the new house waiting for the last load of stuff to come from Pueblo.  Jim spent the night in Pueblo and didn't get to our new home until 5:00 p.m. the next day.
Thia held the mover's feet to the fire until all boxes were appropriately placed in the house and the job was completed sufficiently.
I owe her big time!

That same evening, when we were in the throes of the move, my youngest daughter by marriage, Jim's daughter Trinette, and her husband Nathan and I went out to sit on our new deck for a moment.
The evening air was warm.
There was a slight breeze in the aspen trees surrounding our deck.
I looked out on the beautiful meadow behind us.
I looked west to the mountains so close it seemed I could touch them.
I felt as if I were at a resort in Vail or some other wonderful place in Colorado.
I could not believe I was on the deck of my new home.
In that moment, I knew this place would be a place of
comfort,
peace,
and a place that would truly be
our home.

The next day, October 22, was my husband's birthday.
I didn't have time to give him a card.
I didn't even have time to wish him happy birthday on Facebook.
He was Pueblo supervising the cleaning of our house we had sold and vacated.
I was in Colorado Springs trying to make sense out of the placement of boxes all over the house.
We had guests coming at 6:00 to celebrate his birthday.
Yes, I'm crazy like that.
I have a party with guests on the first night I move into a house!
Finally, at 5:00 my dear husband, the birthday boy, arrived home with Boston who had been kenneled for five days while we made the move.
I captured his birthday portrait on our back deck next to the door that goes to our bedroom.

At 6:00 our guests arrived.
Thanks to Thia and Brad, my husband had cake and ice cream for his birthday party.
His day and our first evening in our home was celebrated by two of his daughters and their husbands, some of his grandchildren, my cousin, and our realtor.
It is good to live by family again.

Happy Birthday, dear Jim.
He celebrated by moving into our new home.

Since that time, we have tried not to be overwhelmed.
Although, I must confess, at times, many times, I've felt like just sitting down and crying.
I still have boxes everywhere.
The kitchen is finally unpacked and everything is in place.
I have the bathroom set up and organized.
The closet is getting there.
Thanks to my sister, my dining room is unpacked and china is sitting all over the table.
Thanks to a dear friend of Jim's, Rob, pictures are hung and other tasks we could not do are done.
My sister Carol has been a lifesaver.
We've had a lot of fun playing house, arranging furniture and moving things around.
Thanks, Carol.

Tonight, I am sitting in our guest room.  It is in shambles.
My desk is not functional. It is still covered with boxes.
The family room looks like something from an episode from the hoarders.
So does the garage.
So does the storage room.
So does the other guest room.

I don't know when I will dig out.
I am trying to take it one box at a time.
I am trying not to obsess over my need for order.

We are both a bit homesick.
Jim was terribly homesick on Sunday.
Today, I am.
"Do you feel like this is home yet?"  I asked Jim after dinner.
"No, not yet.  How about you?" was his reply.
"No.  Not yet."

Home where is it?
At times, I step outside and I feel the air, look at the mountains, and am filled with great peace because
I am home.
I drive the familiar streets of my hometown.
I am home.
I am happy.

I also am in a state of unsettledness.
I'm not home yet.
I miss my old home.

The sermon I heard on Sunday summed it up.
I sat next to my sister and listened to the words of the pastor and listened to the familiar voice of my sister singing.
It made me realize we all have a longing for home.
This place will never be my home.
I hope to make this temporary earthly home a place of peace, a sanctuary from the hustle and bustle we faced for so many years.
It is good to be in a place where old memories of loss do not linger.
It is good to be starting over.
I have new energy and new interest in making this house a home we will enjoy.
We are located in a bucolic setting.
I am amazed at the beauty that surrounds me.
I have been greatly blessed with this new place of residence.
I also know that my longing for home will not be satisfied on this earth.
These places where we live are only temporary.
They hold great meaning,
but they are not our final destination.

Our Last Sunday in Pueblo

No Place Like Home

As on every other Sunday, we sat in the "newspaper room" in our twin chairs reading the Sunday morning newspaper.  The pink chairs were purchased when we moved into this home 17 years ago.  I was expecting my first grandchild at the time.  I remember the salesman telling me these were perfect grandma chairs because they rocked and they swiveled.  I wasn't sold on the pink, but the chairs were so comfortable, and they did rock and swivel.  

Now, the chairs are very worn.  They are no longer pink.  Newspaper print has rubbed off on the fabric.  Babies have been rocked in these chairs.  Christmas morning activities has been witnessed from these chairs.  Easter egg hunts have been witnessed by these chairs.  My chair, the one on the right, held me when I heard the worst news of life. It was here where I heard my Amy say, "Mommie, Julie is dead."  

Still, this chair is always a comforting place for me to go.  It speaks of home, of family, of times with my husband as we rehashed what we read in the paper.  Back in the day, when my hubby was working, I'd sit in this chair reading and say, "I see you made the newspaper today."  Thankfully, he always seemed to garner good press.   One morning I read he had physically apprehended a student who had a knife in his hand as the student attempted to exit the building after making a threat.  That was after I had asked him what had happened at work the day before and had received the reply, "Nothing really."  When I read the news clip to him saying, "I thought you said nothing happened at school yesterday."  He said, Oh, that's right.  I forgot."  I guess it was just another day in life of a high school principal.  

Yes, this room, these chairs hold many memories.  We will take the chairs with us.  We've talked of getting rid of them since they are so unsightly.  I think they will make the move.  We will reupholstery them.  They are comfortable.  They rock.  They swivel.  We do like them.  It is the room we will leave behind.  This room, called the "newspaper room" by the grandchildren, was the setting for our last Sunday morning paper reading today.  I raised my coffee cup to my husband and said, "Here's to this room and our last Sunday in it."  

Sunday Routine

We needed to keep packing, but the sun was shining.  The weather was warm, and we needed to settle our minds about leaving the place where we have lived for so long, so we went to the Pueblo Riverwalk for one last Sunday walk with Boston.  We go to the riverwalk nearly everyday, but Sunday is a special day because so many others are there walking when the weather there on Sunday afternoons.  Located in the heart of Pueblo, a walkway runs beside the historic route of the Arkansas River.  Just this past week, on a beautiful fall afternoon, I spotted a beaver in the river that runs right through the middle of the city.  Can you see him in the middle of the photo?  Good thing I had my iPhone with me.  

Beaver swimming at the Pueblo Riverwalk

I captured this photo from the bridge over the river

We couldn't spend our last Sunday in Pueblo without going to our favorite spot to spend a Sunday afternoon.  We ran into friends who were either walking or eating on the pizza on the patio at Angelo's.    I don't think we can take a walk on a Sunday without spending at least 15 minutes chatting to friends along the way.  We will miss this.

How could we have our last Sunday in Pueblo without buying popcorn from Taffy's?  Well, we didn't think we could, so we went to get our Sunday popcorn.  They were closed!  How can that be?  The sign on the window said, "Closed.  No electricity."  That is when we remembered that the power was out all over downtown because there was a fire at the electrical plant.  We had learned that while chatting with our friends at the pizza parlor.  The waitress had come out to say to our friends that they were having some difficulty with the bill because the power was out because of a fire at the power plant.  Our car was parked right next to the power company, so we saw all the commotion as we left to go get popcorn.  I guess we should have known.

Another routine for Sunday involves Boston being groomed by Jim.  We came home so Jim could get that done.  The last roses were blooming.  I've tried to ignore the roses this week.  The sprinkler system is off.  They are not getting watered.  I decided to just let them die for the season and not get emotional. As I stepped onto the back deck to watch the grooming, I saw my beautiful Easy Does It rose was not done blooming yet.  I decided I had to snip the last blooms.  I could not let them remain on the bush to die.  I had to enjoy their beauty.

Try as I might, I can never quite capture the richness of the colors of this rose with a photo.  Of course, perhaps I should try to photograph it with something other than my iPhone.  We do have a fancy camera around here, a Nikon D90, but I never bother to get it out.  I guess I am not a serious photographer at all.  Despite the poor attempt at photography, I am amazed at the colors that do show in the photo below.  

Easy Does It

We may be in a state of chaos around here.  I haven't cleaned for several weeks.  There are boxes all over the place.  We are moving, but I decide I need one last round of roses in the house.  This bouquet was for the table next to my chair in the family room.  The roses go in my two favorite vases next to my favorite portraits:  one of father, and one of Julie surrounded by my seven grandchildren, her beloved nieces and nephews.  This week of goodbyes will go better with roses in the house.

I was struck by the absolute beauty of this:  the last full bloom from the rose bush I planted in memory of Julie.  It was the best full bloom from this plant I'd picked all summer.  It seemed to say, "I've saved the best for last."  

This day, our last Sunday in Pueblo, blessed with perfect fall weather.  We spent it doing what we love to do.  The day was full of sunshine and the colors of autumn.  The reds, the yellows, the oranges of fall put on a wonderful show of vivid color for us today.  

At home, I then was blessed with this rose.  The tinges of yellow blending into vivid orange softened by light pinks and apricots around the edges of this beautiful rose reminded me of a sunset.  Drinking in a beautiful sunset at the end of a day always brings such joy.  One is grateful for such a gift that reminds us of the blessing of that day as it ends.  Such is the feeling I get as I look at this rose.  Our days in this place that has been our home for so long are coming to an end.  Jim has lived here nearly 61 years.  I have lived here 20 years.  This is the town where we met as teenagers and where we have lived as married couple.  We will miss it all so much.  We will miss the town, the people, our home, our special spots around this house, our garden, our flowers, and so much more.  We carry so many memories with us as we go into a new day.  This season may be ending for us, but we are not done blooming yet.  We are off to cultivate new memories in a new place.

*************

I'm adding my daughter Keicha's post about our dearly loved home.  Read it here:  Letting Go.

Time with Dear Old Friends I'd Never Met

The title to this blog post may make no sense.  The title is an oxymoron.  It seems to be a contradictory statement.  The casual blog reader may ask, "How can the author of this post spend time with dear old friends with whom she has never before met?"

If you are a blogger, you may understand completely what I am talking about in the title.  I've never met  most of my blogging friends.  Even though I've never met my blogging friends face to face, I consider so many of them dear, dear friends.   Somehow, someway, friendships are formed in Blogland, and these friendships become very important to the daily lives of many bloggers.

It is difficult for me to describe how much these blogging friendships have meant to me over the past two years.  Exploring that topic will have to left for another day.  For today, I am just going to tell you a little about the time I spent with some of these treasured people I met online.  These folks share themselves and their lives with me and others in this unique place we call the blogosphere.  According to Wikipedia, "The blogosphere is made up of all blogs and their interconnections.  The term implies that blogs exist together as a connected community (or as a collection of connected communities) or as a social network in which everyday authors can publish their opinions."  While I like the Wikipedia's definition of the blogosphere, I think it does not begin to describe the interconnections and connected community that actually has been developed and established between some bloggers.  

Friends from Blogosphere meet face to face

Betsy and George

I'd always hoped I'd meet with at least one of my friends I'd made online, but I'd never met any fellow bloggers until just a few weeks ago when one of my very favorite blogging friends Betsy from Tennessee and her husband George came to Colorado on vacation.  (click on Betsy's and George's name to see their blogs.)  

Betsy had contacted me several months ago to tell me of the travel plans she and her husband George were making.  She said that planned on coming to Colorado Springs and hoped we could arrange a meeting while they were in town.  Emails went back and forth where dates for the visit were given and then plans for how we would spend the time began to take shape.  I cannot tell you how excited I was to actually get to meet Betsy.  She has been such a dear and supportive friend to me ever since we met online several years ago.  

Betsy and Sally finally meet

I knew that Betsy would be just like she was:  bubbly, happy, positive, charming, interesting, full of energy, intelligent, and loving.  I knew she would look just as she did.  I knew we would connect instantly because we already had done so online.  My husband and I met both Betsy and George at a wonderful restaurant at the foot of Pikes Peak after Betsy and George had driven to the top of Pikes Peak.  Did I say that these two are dauntless?  They are the ultimate explorers and adventurers.  They love waterfalls and mountains.  Their love for these two outdoor destinations go hand in hand with their love for hiking and photography.  I love following them in their adventures on their blogs.  

After lunch, it was my great delight to take Betsy and George to see one of my most favorite vistas in the entire world.  I love the spot where I photographed them standing with the beautiful red rocks of Garden of the Gods behind them.  Note that blue sky!  Note those sunny yellow shirts on two very sunny people.  Don't you just love the colors in the photograph?  The colors characterize the day.  My husband and I had the privilege of spending a beautiful late summer day in September walking among those red rocks under a perfect blue sky in colorful Colorado with two lovely folks from Tennessee.  Can you think of anything better?  This day confirmed what I already knew.  Blogging friends are the BEST!  Blogging friends are treasured, dear old friends.  

A Weekend with Blogging Friends

Just a few weeks after meeting Betsy and George, I then had the experience of meeting a group of blogging friends and spending the weekend with them on Vashon Island in Washington State.  Yes, this past weekend, I spent time with five other dear old friends I had never met.  

A few months ago, one of my other blogging friends, Linda, from Bag Lady in Waiting, sent me an email asking me if I would be interested in meeting a group of other blogging friends.  Of course, I said, "Yes!  Count me in."  Again, emails went back and forth as plans were made for six of us to find a time and a place where we could meet and spend the weekend together.  Finally, the day arrived, and I flew off to Seattle to meet five other women I had met and grown to love through our communications online.  Each one was very special to me, and each has played an important role in my adjustment to retirement, and to the loss of my daughter. 

Can you imagine the excitement we felt when we all first met at our weekend retreat spot, Lavender Hill on Vashon Island?  Please check out this website for this place.  You will begin to see just how special the spot we chose for this wonderful weekend was.

The sight of those women, dear old friends to me and to the others, all in the flesh in one spot, was almost unbelievable.    

Hello!  We finally meet!
Deb and Sandi greet Linda & D.Jan
as Jann and I wait our turn to hug our dear friends.

Unfortunately, I discovered I didn't have the battery in my camera when I got it out to take photos.  Can you believe it?  I carefully charged the battery before I left and then must have dropped in on the floor while I was packing.  All my photos were taken with my iPhone.  Thankfully, I managed to get one photo of the group with my phone.  This group below is made up of the most awesome women.  Each one is a treasure to me.  Please meet my friends:  Sandi  from Flying into the Light; Deb from Catbird Scout; Linda from Bag Lady in Waiting; D.Jan  from DJan-ity and Eye on the Edge; and, my very first follower, Jann from Benchmark 60.  

Sandi, Deb, Linda, D.Jan, and Jann
Ladies at the Lighthouse
Ladies I can count on to shed some light on many topics

I will be writing more about these experiences later.  For now, I just wanted to tell you of my experience when I stepped out of the blogosphere and spent precious and treasured time with dear old friends I had never met.