Annnnd I’m back on the ranch! In the midst of my Christmas celebrations, I spent the long weekend moving my belongings to a house on a purebred Black Angus cattle ranch. It’s a longer drive to work. The bathroom sink has some issues. There are three washing machines and two dryers sitting on the porch. It was my seventh move in three and a half years.
I’m totally pumped.
Okay, I’m not at the moment as pure exhaustion is the only way to describe the vibes my body is sending me. My muscles have their angry faces on, and my brain feels like it might explode. But soon, maybe when the weather is a bit warmer and the roads aren’t a concern. Maybe when I reduce my laundry facility to the normal number of one each. Maybe when I get my dog pen built and have Doc Holliday back where he’s supposed to be. Then I will be totally pumped.
I have spent the last four months in a trailer park. I know what you’re wondering, and no, I don’t watch NASCAR. Or have a couch on my lawn. It did what it was supposed to – gave me a roof over my head, a place to sleep and stove to cook with, but I am beyond ready to have a little more breathing room. I love the country. It’s where I spent the first 18 years of my life, and it’s where I intend to spend the majority of my remaining years. Which makes me sound like I’m 80 and just went into a nursing home. I’m 25, and I’m sure hoping there’s a lot of “remaining years” to enjoy places like this: