We made it to the East Coast

After eight days of driving (that's 8-9 hours of total travel time per day) with 2 daughters, 2 vehicles and 6 cats, we made it to our new house in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina.

Writing that still doesn't make sense. There's a huge part of me that doesn't believe I live so far from the Pacific Northwest, the place that was my home for the past 38 years, the place where I met my husband and where we raised our girls. But here we are, sweating to death in a town that is nothing short of economically crippled, a dead downtown, and where you couldn't pay me to eat in 95% of the restaurants. 

Again, there are no craft stores, no book stores, no coffee shops except one Starbucks (where the tables are SO SMALL, they barely fit my stuff -- what happens when all three of us want to go out?), nothing cute, no cute shops, nothing. There's a Walmart. A Food Lion. And an Ollie's -- a discount store that is like a "discount everything" store. We did find three nice rugs there, so that's something.

So this entire experience is so depressing, such a step backward from my absolutely gorgeous homestead in Oregon with my valley views of the Umpqua Valley, my chickens, my bees, my deer, and even the wild turkeys (even though they loved to wake me up by dancing across the roof of my bedroom)... I really have nothing to say to those who keep telling me to look for the positive side of this except -- shut the fuck up. 

Our new house is in the prettiest neighborhood, with trees all around, that is true. Our view out of the front window is of the front acreage of the mansion across the street. Why on earth there's a mansion here in the middle of town sitting on a handful of acres, I will never know, but there it is. No one uses the front yard area, so I never see anyone there, so that's perfect. 

But other than that, I am not happy here. I don't know if I'll ever be happy here, especially since everything I had, everything I built and was working toward, was stolen from me by my husband's company's horrible decision to move him here. So, they won. I moved us here and he's here now. So, congratulations, my life was thrown in the trash because someone I don't know thought this was a great idea. It wasn't. 

So, I will never get back my Rosemary Hill. It's gone forever. I'll never have a lavender farm. I will never see my chickens, my outside cats, or my deer James again. Thanks again, you stupid, fucking annoying company. Here, I have nothing except my memories I packed in boxes again, that are now in transit across the country, due to arrive this coming Thursday or Friday, maybe Saturday, no one really knows. This is the 12th time I have moved this family, but this is the move I was against, am still against, and I will never forgive them for making this my reality. They are on my shitlist forever.

In spite of what was stolen from me, I still have plans -- first, I'll paint this house because the red and beige in here is not only ugly and boring, but it's just plain gross. We have to get a pool in the backyard somehow, but the more the days go by, the less I want to do anything outside at all. I've even seen nurseries, but I have no desire to do anything like gardening. I can't even look at pictures of other people's gardens, especially their lavender gardens. Thanks for that too, idiot company.

After the house is painted, I'm setting up our art room, and by then, I'll be ready to work. The art room will be organized and perfect for us to make whatever we want, the two front rooms will be transformed into the Limoncello Cafe and will be the perfect place to write and hang out... and if we need anything, well, there's always Amazon. 

I thought after being here, with the kids and the cats and everything, it would somehow be easier to be here, and maybe the tide would turn, but, no. I don't like it here. I hate the drives between here and anywhere. Long and boring, the view never changes, you have no idea where you are because there are no landmarks, whether the drive is 45 minutes or two hours or four hours.

The only part of North Carolina that appealed to me at all was the area around Asheville, because it had glorious air and mountains and millions of pointy conifer trees. I can't help but look at real estate for sale there. There are so many houses to choose from, plus vacant land ready for our home and tiny homes for the girls... the possibilities are in my reach, so now I will focus on making them happen, despite the annoying company and their endless bad decisions and lies that got us here.