I'm From Santa Fe
It's been a year since we left Connecticut and moved to Santa Fe. We closed on this house a year ago on August 4.
Now, officially, the Great Adventure has become Just Life. Routine. We live here. We've seen four seasons, we've met neighbors, I joined two book clubs, I put in gardens. I pay the water bill, we've voted twice, once in a general election for mayor and once in a primary. We get haircuts, run errands and shop once a week at the farmer's market.
We've replaced some things we moved cross country a year ago. The coffee maker, the red deck chairs, things we brought with us wear out and new ones are bought here.
We've had family come to stay, we've traveled back east twice. We've gone to L.A. and Denver. We've taken road trips around the state.
We're learning to complain with our neighbors about local annoyances -- the tourists (which we are NOT), the pace of "manana" in social services, the lack of rain, Albuquerque.
We've also learned how good this move was for us. I love this house, I still feel like I'm living at a resort when I have my coffee on the patio in dry, refreshing weather each morning. The scenery -- the mountains -- still produce awe.
People are uniformly friendly and open, not just neighbors, but tradespeople, workers and random people standing in line. All friendly. We live in a very isolated bubble of liberal comfort in a distressed state, though. I know that.
The hardest thing about living here after a full year is how to answer the question "where are you folks from?" It's asked whenever we are shopping or browsing near the center, where it's assumed everyone is a tourist. I answer "we're from Santa Fe, we're locals", but that feels incomplete, since every bit of my being is New England and always has been.
But I live here now, and have for a year. I'm from Santa Fe.
Now, officially, the Great Adventure has become Just Life. Routine. We live here. We've seen four seasons, we've met neighbors, I joined two book clubs, I put in gardens. I pay the water bill, we've voted twice, once in a general election for mayor and once in a primary. We get haircuts, run errands and shop once a week at the farmer's market.
We've replaced some things we moved cross country a year ago. The coffee maker, the red deck chairs, things we brought with us wear out and new ones are bought here.
We've had family come to stay, we've traveled back east twice. We've gone to L.A. and Denver. We've taken road trips around the state.
We're learning to complain with our neighbors about local annoyances -- the tourists (which we are NOT), the pace of "manana" in social services, the lack of rain, Albuquerque.
We've also learned how good this move was for us. I love this house, I still feel like I'm living at a resort when I have my coffee on the patio in dry, refreshing weather each morning. The scenery -- the mountains -- still produce awe.
People are uniformly friendly and open, not just neighbors, but tradespeople, workers and random people standing in line. All friendly. We live in a very isolated bubble of liberal comfort in a distressed state, though. I know that.
The hardest thing about living here after a full year is how to answer the question "where are you folks from?" It's asked whenever we are shopping or browsing near the center, where it's assumed everyone is a tourist. I answer "we're from Santa Fe, we're locals", but that feels incomplete, since every bit of my being is New England and always has been.
But I live here now, and have for a year. I'm from Santa Fe.
Comments
So admire you both for following a dream.