A new home . . .

I think that I had mentioned in a previous post that when my friend, Jennifer, and I were in Arizona I had looked for a new place to live.  It was just kind of on a lark, and when I returned to Durango, I tried in earnest to find a new place to live.  I never mentioned this because I believe the more you focus on something the more of it you create in your life . . . so, I didn't want to talk about it.  But, last year, by April 9th, I had found thirty-two black widows in my house . . . number thirty-two was right by the control to my electric blanket . . . one of the others was in between the foot of my bed and the wall (forcing me to move my bed into the center of the room), and another a couple feet from my bed by my dresser.  For the rest of the summer, I was killing one or two every day . . . so, I think it was well over a hundred by the time they went away in late fall.  I wasn't going to go through that again.  I wanted out before March, just to be sure.

Nothing was available in Durango . . . at least nothing that suited me.  I checked the want ads and the Craigslist ads every single day.  Nothing.  I'm not even sure how it happened . . . but, it was well into my EMDR . . . and suddenly . . . well, slowly really, while I made sure it was what I wanted . . . I decided to leave Durango.  So, for awhile, I still searched the Durango ads as well as the Arizona ads.  My possible places to move were Prescott, Flagstaff, or Sedona.  Sedona is the smallest and most beautiful (beauty is important to me and so is small), but it seemed my heart wanted to go to Prescott . . . still not sure why.  I almost moved to Prescott thirty years ago, but didn't really like it that much.  But, right now, Prescott is where my heart wanted to be.

There were a lot of possible places to live in Prescott, and I finally called on one that sounded promising.  When I was sixteen years old, my mother sold our home and we moved into what back then was called a "studio apartment."  Back then, it didn't mean a one room deal with kitchenette.  It meant an apartment where the kitchen and living room were downstairs and the bedrooms were upstairs.  Mom and I loved the place.  The apartment that I called on in Prescott was that kind of studio apartment.  I called her and said that I didn't live in Prescott yet, so I'd call her later.  She offered to send an application.  I never got it.  And the more I looked at the ad and the more I looked at other places, I knew that was the place I wanted . . . plus, heat was paid!  After I called her that I never received the app . . . and then still didn't receive it, I decided the only logical thing to do was to drive down there.  And since I was convinced that if I didn't get that place that I'd get another, I loaded my car up with my stuff and Moki and I drove down to Prescott.

It went well, we got the place, unloaded my stuff, and drove back to Durango to pack.  Suffice it to say that the following three weeks were filled to brimming with packing, unpacking, driving . . . and about the only time I had to sit down was in the therapists office for my weekly EMDR session.  I think something happened in the EMDR that made me make this "abrupt" decision to leave Durango.  The truth was that Durango was not serving my needs any longer.

So . . . here we are in Prescott, Arizona . . . we made our final quick trip to Durango a couple days ago . . . and now we are living in a bright, large, comfortable apartment with no "bad girls" which is what I called the black widows!!  I don't have to worry about the freakin' neighbors dogs and I don't have to worry about the freakin' neighbors.

One thing I left out of this story was a little incentive given me by the freakin' neighbors . . . they called the sheriff on me!!  Sixty-two years old and no one has ever called the sheriff/police on me before . . . unless you count the time I got kicked out of Shakey's Pizza for laughing too much . . . but, no police were involved!  Anyway, they lied to the sheriff and there is a good chance they lied to me as well.  Believe me, that was incredible incentive, plus, they were not keeping their dogs in . . . so, every time I took Moki outside, I had to worry about Moki running into "Pete" and getting freaked out again.  Not good times.  I am so grateful we are gone from that place . . . so grateful.

I'm just getting settled now . . . still have a ton of unpacking and putting away to do.  Today, I switched my insurance over . . . tomorrow my car gets serviced . . . I still have some other switching to do, but so far we are very happy here.  When I recover from the moving, we will start hiking again.  There is a cool area real close to me and some other places not to far.  Plus there are hiking groups for me to join and lots of other groups with similar interests as mine.  I may just decide to become a social butterfly while I'm here!

Feel free to ask questions if you want to . . .