Call me crazy

I have found it. Out past the Gospel Chicken House and the Sod Farm, I found land made for me, and with a house more gorgeous than I could have hoped, or probably deserve. The place even has a mature wine vineyard, so lovingly cultivated that the man who planted it is moving to Oregon so he can have more fun with vines. It has a huge walnut tree among fruit trees. It has a tractor. It is a place where I am quite sure that you can see the stars.

But, do I dare move there? Do I dare give up this house which holds a heck of a lot of my blood sweat and tears? Can I give up my coffee shop and my three mile commute to work? Last night, I woke up worrying about copperheads. What if I fell out of said tractor? What if I don't know enough yet to run head (heart) first into this endeavor?

I swore I would never live in the middle of nowhere by myself again. And, every time I make those kind of declarative sentences (think fake Ugg boots, all purses, musicals) I wind up eating those words. Mostly with relish.