I’m moving next week. To a new town no one’s heard of, apparently, except for the people who live there and know it and exclaim what an awesome town it is.
It’s an old mill town. Not sprawling, not huge, but it has a downtown. Which has (thank god) some restaurants I can’t wait to check out (like the tiny hole-in-the-wall Korean place, which you can barely tell is a restaurant from the outside). I feared ending up in a “meh” food desert — not that I eat out much but I am comforted by knowing that interesting, good, and genuine food is nearby.
Even if I cook at home almost all the time and rarely splurge on takeout.
I scheduled the movers for next Friday. Actually I scheduled them for next Thursday but they couldn’t show up until sometime between 2 p.m and 5 p.m., and knowing how moves go I knew it would be on the later side and also they’d get stuck in rush-hour traffic, adding to total move time/cost, so we agreed on Friday morning.
It should be quick. I’ve boxed up most stuff except our necessities (though without my constant handwashing [no dishwasher here] we’re constantly running out of plates/bowls/glasses. Also I realize we have about 3 real glasses and the rest are Teddy’s peanut butter jars).
Drinking glasses are on my IKEA list.
As are two new beds for the kids (they have bunkbeds now but we’re ready for regular beds, and I found a cool one on the street but they want matching and that’s fine with me).
And a fuzzy high-pile rug for their room, because we’re all sick of the flat hard rugs and they deserve cushy.
So the last weekend the kids weren’t here, I cleared out a TON of stuff. I purged a lot last year when we moved, but there’s always more! I sold a lot of stuff (including non-family antiques I have lugged around for 20 years). I gave away a lot of stuff. Today, some organization came by and picked up 3 boxes of stuff from my porch.
We’re down to clothes and furniture, plus the last few dishes.
So what am I doing this weekend? Going to IKEA to buy the beds and rug? Boxing up closet stuff?
Hell no. I am heading to the mountains, to my calm and happy space.
Because most high campgrounds are kind of (and I mean this kindly) an overcrowded shitshow this time of year, I will car camp down low, hike all day Saturday, camp that night, and drive home Sunday. I don’t need to haul all my gear up the mountain to end up in the absurdly over-crowded Guyot scene we ended up in last year (there were people pitching tents on the trail, the overflow camping was full, and if there were one more tent it would have ended up on top of the bearbox, I think).
I love Guyot. It’s beautiful and lovely and wonderful. But by george, it can get crowded in the summer!!
I reached out to an outdoors womens group about camping (most regular campsites are booked; I’m looking into “pull off the road and hike into the woods” stuff).
One suggested that the Whites are much too busy right now and I should look elsewhere.
No. I need to go to my familiar places. I need to hike the trails I’ve hiked so many times before, hike my favorite peaks (or nearby ones). I don’t want a whole new set of circumstances. I have enough of that right now.
I’ll be in the Whites this weekend, if anyone needs me.