We got the keys to the farm last night. Made our first trek out with cars rammed to the brim with our stuff.
My boy immediately settled right in – running around the fields, climbing fences, exploring the dark parts of the barn.
I, of course, looked upon the place with critical eyes this time, as excited as I am. Noting how much scrubbing and painting and pruning and cleaning and just general love this place needs. Lots and lots of love.
It is daunting, but I can see in my mind’s eye what it will look like when it’s done, and I know it will be worth it.
We found a tree heavy with apples, another of pears and yet more apples. Rose hips and grapes. More blackberries than a herd of goats will know what to do with. Lots of dead trees to cut down for firewood. An old door in the barn that was so beautiful it took my breath away.
Early this morning I took a long hot shower in my beautiful bathroom for the last time, thinking about helping my husband tile the walls, how I was so excited the day we put the tub in I took a bath despite the fact there was only drywall up. The stain I made on the marble countertop the VERY FIRST DAY that brought me to tears . . .
We have so many memories here, renovated it together with next to no money, made it our own.
Our first house.
Time to say goodbye.
I will miss my neighbours, and East Van in general. I won’t miss the traffic, or my busy street that conspires to kill me each and every time I try to park in front of my house. I won’t miss the noise or the closeness of everything. I crave wide open spaces, a little bit of room to call our own.