I knew sooner or later it would hit me.
But it hasn’t hit me so much as sneaked up on me in countless covert ways.
I am soon to leave my home for territory unknown. Not only that, but I’ll truly be leaving my horsey life behind. True, I will be working with horses, writing about horses, and living a sort of vicarious horsey life. But we all know that’s not the same. Moving to Hawaii will put the final nail in the coffin of Maira’s sale and the end of daily riding.
The sneaky little thoughts of home, even as I occupy it, keep arriving as well. My tiny town of Batesville and the larger town of Charlottesville are the coolest places to live in the United States, I think. Loaded with musicians, artists, writers, farmers and university folk, the interaction of such a varied population makes for a stimulating place to live. Not that I would do it, but you can’t swing a cat without running into someone you adore.
And then there’s my home. I’ve lived here longer than I’ve lived anywhere else in my life. And I’ve loved it more, too. It has felt the most like home. And I have lived here on my terms.
I understand that the looming change predisposes me to looking around with fresh eyes, and to looking back with misty ones. I usually try to live in the now. I try not to look forward or back. But today, I think I’m going to look back and catalogue some of the things that I’m really going to miss about living in Virginia.
1. My house.
2. My farm: wineberries, black mission figs, walnuts, apples, fallow field and first growth forest.
3. My pool!
4. My daughter’s pug, Wibble, who can’t accompany me.
5. Millington Stables, the people there, and the best trail riding on the planet.
6. Page’s Store, the center of the Universe.
7. Allowing Ruby to run free and howl at the scent of bunnies she (hopefully ) will not catch.
8. Maira, Millie, Buster, Storm, James and Madison, plus all the other horses I used to see every day. Especially Laddie.
9. The serenity of living in the woods. At night: night music, peeper frogs in the spring, owls, foxes, bobwhites, moonrise. During the day: steady breeze, deeply dappled sunshine, dogs at play, silence.
10. Country life.
Being mindful of what I will leave behind, and accepting for what it is will hopefully allow me not to pine about it. When I step off the plane in Hawaii, I will turn my face to the sun, and revel in the things I love about that place. There is a long, long list.
1. Where do you live and what do you love about it?
2. If you could move anywhere in the world, where would it be?
3. What would you have to give up to go there?
4. Would it be worth it?