A Remarkable Year
In the late summer of 2016, driving through empty northern Wyoming in high summer on a vacation, we said to each other: let's move out west.
Okay. Where?
I have long had an overwhelming urge to move to the west. I grew up in New England, as Jim did, and we both love it to our very bones. But the first time I set foot in the Big Horn mountains of northern Wyoming on a family dude ranch vacation in 1990, I knew I was supposed to live there. Somewhere out there. I knew.
My sons grew up and moved west, one to California, the other to Colorado. The day Jim said let's move, I was in. It didn't take long.
In January of 2017, just one year ago today, we arrived at Laura's house, met her, shared a bottle of wine with her, then met with Francie the next day, and began touring homes for sale in Santa Fe.
We were hopelessly unrealistic (Francie, show us a cute casita near the center -- with lots of room --- with old style amenities like kiva fireplaces and viga beams and Talavera tilework -- but totally updated with new windows and plumbing, and . . . oh, a view of mountains, yesss! And in our price range.) With a garage. Hah.
Francie was wonderful, taking us around to homes we could not afford in neighborhoods where we would never buy. She spent an entire January Sunday with us. It was snowing. She bought us lunch.
That was exactly one year ago, and now here we are. We are well settled into our new home, with New Mexico driver's licenses and everything. We sold our house in Connecticut. We moved cross country.
We did this.
Holy cow, what a remarkable year it has been.
Okay. Where?
 |
| Could we live in a place like this? |
I have long had an overwhelming urge to move to the west. I grew up in New England, as Jim did, and we both love it to our very bones. But the first time I set foot in the Big Horn mountains of northern Wyoming on a family dude ranch vacation in 1990, I knew I was supposed to live there. Somewhere out there. I knew.
My sons grew up and moved west, one to California, the other to Colorado. The day Jim said let's move, I was in. It didn't take long.
> That August we told my sons "we're thinking of moving out west". They were surprisingly excited for us.
> That September we decided on Santa Fe (warmer than Wyoming in winter, but still the alpine west)
> That fall we broached it with Jim's daughter and she was perfectly okay with it. Phew.
> That Thanksgiving I sent an e-mail to a random Santa Fe realtor I found online, asking about a condo for sale. It was 11 p.m. Thanksgiving night, 9 p.m. Mountain time. She replied within minutes. It was Francie.
> That Christmas I booked a house on Air BnB with Laura in Santa Fe for a January stay. Her home was quintessentially New Mexican, beautifully and authentically furnished in southwestern style, and near the center. I loved it.
 |
| Laura's Air BnB living room |
In January of 2017, just one year ago today, we arrived at Laura's house, met her, shared a bottle of wine with her, then met with Francie the next day, and began touring homes for sale in Santa Fe.
 |
| We arrived at Laura's casa in a snowstorm, a year ago |
We were hopelessly unrealistic (Francie, show us a cute casita near the center -- with lots of room --- with old style amenities like kiva fireplaces and viga beams and Talavera tilework -- but totally updated with new windows and plumbing, and . . . oh, a view of mountains, yesss! And in our price range.) With a garage. Hah.
Francie was wonderful, taking us around to homes we could not afford in neighborhoods where we would never buy. She spent an entire January Sunday with us. It was snowing. She bought us lunch.
That was exactly one year ago, and now here we are. We are well settled into our new home, with New Mexico driver's licenses and everything. We sold our house in Connecticut. We moved cross country.
We did this.
Holy cow, what a remarkable year it has been.
Comments