It’s been a few weeks… this blogger’s a little embarrassed about that. And I should have documented our latest journey: moving to the country. On the bright side (ish), our moving into this ranch-style cottage is kinda still going on if you consider the boxes and bare walls.

Why did we move, and leave lovely Alexandria, VA? My idea. I blame insomnia, for it was on one of those sleepless nights. I was on Zillow, dreaming of buying a house, when I saw 3 bdrm house for rent on a farm wayyyyyy (I mean, wayyyyyy) cheaper than our cozy one bdrm apartment near D.C. 

All night I mused about more space, a room dedicated to an office, a suite guests could call their own, and waking up to quiet sunrises over the Blue Ridge mountains. It took less than 10 seconds to convince country boy, Stan, and within 2 weeks, we signed lease papers on the new place.

It’s been about a month now, and let me just say, the struggle is real. The major upside is being near my family (near, meaning 4 minutes), and stopping in my parent’s house whenever my mom comes back from shopping at Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s (still have my college kid habits I guess). I also love the views, the wineries, the driving just 15 minutes to small town charm complete with antique shops and diners. 

The downside…  I realized, I can’t walk to shops. Uber Eats and Seamless – remnants from my past. Mexican food? Good luck. It hurts my pride to say, but I am a millennial yuppy. Or maybe just, a city girl. The quiet of the farm we live on makes me long for the feeling of stepping off my old Upper West Side stoop and into a world of who knows what. Recognizing everybody at the coffee shop only reminds me that I can’t be random anonymous girl anymore. Driving so far for groceries only has me thinking how I wish this farm had a neighborhood bodega. 

I’m getting over it. I promise. I told my sister today, I am going through the stages of grief (all the while carrying the burden that it was my decision to move), and heading, on my own crooked path, to acceptance. 

I read this the other day, and it made me feel ashamed and alive all at once… 

“If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.” â€• Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

God probably put me here to find beauty and joy without the city stimuli which was my old source of entertainment. Here, we have slower conversations, drawn-out dinners, and long drives to talk and contemplate. What I contemplate and talk about is up to me. Also, Stan, I know you’re reading this, and I promise to talk less about the city I miss, and open my eyes to the new beauty surrounding me.