We are moving… again. This time to a 1950s teardown house in Aspen with the most beautiful single-paned glass views one could ever hope for.
As much as I meditated on this exact scenario, a teardown deal in Aspen made by Baddy at a rent we could afford, I wasn’t ready to jump when it was actually presented to me. That’s the thing about putting things out to the universe: when it happens, you have to be ready to give yourself over to it, and THAT is not always easy.
These last two months have been a whirlwind of chaos and stress, packing up a house I love while the eye of the hurricane (our three boys) blew out any semblance of order I managed for showings to potential renters. At some point I gave up trying to make it look like something out of House & Garden. When the doorbell rang for a showing, I’d shove everything loose into a dark corner of a closet and check myself in the mirror, doing my best to calm the frizz escaping like fire from my clips before running downstairs to open the door with a big smile.
It was often hard to keep my composure in my stressed state as I met others in even greater distress, displaced but optimistically doing what they needed to do to stay in this valley. There were families with entire packs of dogs, people ending their life on the road to settle down for a while and others forced out of their homes by rising rents. It’s an amazing life out here, but for many of us, certainly not as glamorous as one might think.
Fortunately, we found a nice family to move in at the eleventh hour. As hard as it is to scale down yet again and leave our homey Basalt sanctuary, my garden, our neighbors and these beautiful warm summer temperatures for a house built at a time when people seemed to think indoor exposed-shale-rock pond features were the coolest thing ever, I believe it will all be good in the end. At the moment, though, the thought keeps creeping into my mind that Gollum from The Lord of the Rings is living in the crawl space. But Baddy’s on it, burning the candle at both ends to make the house cozy for his family. I’ve never seen a man work so hard and never complain as his back goes out and his bony knees give way.
I’m very grateful that the universe is listening, so I’ll adjust to watching the boys go Mach 40 down our steep hill and around sharp curves to get anywhere. I’ll also adjust to not having my neighborhood peeps around, like the one who shouts at my boys to get off the roof when they’re on the brink of jumping, or Frederico, who swept me away to his hometown on the Mediterranean coast after bringing me a cup of espresso during the garage sale, espresso he learned to make as a child from his papa in Italy. I’ll miss Hector, a badass champion powerlifter with an accent to match, who took our boys under his wing when they needed strength training for all their ailments. (I know Hector will miss my meatballs too.)
So in a few weeks we head off on our next Aspen Real Life adventure as our friends at Double Diamond Moving and Storage move us from Basalt to Aspen. I only hope we’ll return in seven years when Hootie-Hoo spreads his wings and flies off to college. (OK, this part I’m writing through a veil of tears.)
When you see my posts on Food & Wine, Ideas Festival and Wanderlust, picture me creating content in a sea of boxes, and stay tuned for more stories.
