It’s so funny that yesterday I finally “went public” about moving to Atlanta, Georgia.
Because yesterday my husband’s company changed their minds.
Instead, we’re headed to Greeley, Colorado where the company who purchased my husband’s company is headquartered.
We could not be more thrilled.
This will put us roughly half-way between our families. I see my siblings about once a year, my parents twice. I miss them. This will put us “three-day weekend distance” away. Just a hop over the Rocky Mountains and we’re home.
Ditto his parents and siblings. Just a jaunt through the plains and we’re home.
Aside from the familial conveniences, I am thrilled about the AIR. The arid, dry, breathable air and the lushious, comfortable summers. The outdoors. The hiking. The air, did I mention the air?
I miss The West. It’s been a decade since I’ve lived in The West. But, I do miss the . . . how should I put this? The culture? The thinking? The openness? The West-ness? The pyschic wavelength? The spiritual frequency? The attitude? The healthy lifestyle? The fresh air?
For several years, I’ve been attracting “the perfect city in The West for us” and telling my husband, “Go West, Paradise is there. You’ll have all that you can eat, with milk and honey over there. . .” Yes, I sing Natalie Merchant.