It’s been six months since we moved out of our house and started down this transition pathway to New York. I haven’t seen my spinning wheel in months, though I’ve continued to use the drop-spindle just so I don’s forget how much I miss the wheel.
We’ve only stayed two nights in the new house, as it is in need of some plumbing and electrical work, but Chris started a fire and we camped out in front of the fireplace in the living room. It was a pleasant way to spend part of our latest trip. The
neighbors brought over firewood and hosted us for dinner that first night. More neighbors joined and we were warmly welcomed, which meant the world to us weary travelers.
Chris said it’s now a waiting game to begin this next leg of our journey. We must wait for the the completion of the plumbing and electrical work before we can move in officially, so our original plan of waiting for the kids to finish up at school works well.
It’s really unreal to finally be creating a home in a whole different state. This dream realized has been months in the making, with setbacks and so many little obstacles along the way. I haven’t felt much like writing about it because there’s so much to say and it’s hard to decide on a topic well-suited for a farm blog. I cannot wait to play in the soil and work with fiber again. I am excited for all the stories, some old, and the many new we will make together.
The neighbor said she felt called to this area of the Schoharie. It was the first time I had heard someone else say that. I’ve been telling people much the same. It’s an old mountain region and there’s an energy to the land that really speaks to us. We feel ‘called’ home. Michigan will always be my childhood home, but this part of New York feels like home on a deeper level. And maybe it never really needs to be put into words the way we writers are always so inclined to do? Perhaps it can just be and we can simply enjoy it for what it is. Home.