Thursday, March 11, 2010

Appleseeds


Lance is my husband; I don’t think I’ve introduced him before. I acquired him in early fall--one of the best choices of my life--and tomorrow, almost exactly six months to the day later, we sign some papers and acquire a new house.

You know the drill--along with the excitement and the sense of adventure comes a ginormous amount of work, money changing hands, and fear. And that was just the lead-up to the marriage. Ta-rum-pum.

I joke. But I’m not really joking.

I’ve got a real thing about change. I always want to take life by the shoulders and shake it to a halt so I can breathe easy for a while. At the same time, I also believe Go For It! would make a nice addition to the Ten Commandments. (I mean no offense. Don’t write.) I know great things can happen if I suck it up, have some faith, and just leap.

And this is a leap. To a more rural area than I’ve lived before. To a house that will require a lot of sweat equity. To a different county.

Okay, so Lance has lived in other parts of the world, and what is the big deal, anyway? And it’s not like I’ve never moved. I’ve moved around the state. The eastern part of the state. Mostly the northeastern part that doesn’t extend more than forty miles outside my metro area. I am now three miles from where I grew up, and a different county is a big deal. Capisce?

As some of you already know, Lance is interested in apple trees. (Hang in there, this is going someplace.) For Christmas, I gave him a couple of books on growing apples. One of the things we looked for in a new house was a bit of land where he could plant at least two trees (at least two are needed for cross-pollination).

The current owners of our new house, Dr. & Mrs. B, have already retired to Texas but are in town this week. Yesterday, Lance was at the new house to meet with a fence guy (we have a big dog), and happened to meet Dr. B. Dr. B once had a dental practice. After he retired, he turned author and published six books in the young adult genre. He’d heard of me, knew I’d published five books in the romance genre. Wild.

Dr. B showed Lance around the yard, which was, he said, once populated with more trees than are there now (and there are plenty there now). In fact, he and Mrs. B. loved trees so much, it’s the reason the house’s design is all elbows and knees--they didn’t want to cut any down.

I love these people.

Dr. B pointed out a pecan tree. “It doesn’t yield many pecans, and what it does, the squirrels get.”

And he showed Lance a pear tree. “There are always lots of pears. The squirrels get most of those, too.”

They walked a little further.

“A giant oak fell there in a storm.” Dr. B indicated a clearing between some big oaks still standing sentry.

When we'd first looked at the house, Lance had told me he could plant the trees that he wanted. I liked the idea; I'd see them from our kitchen window.

“When it fell," Dr. B continued, "It took out the two apple trees I'd planted there.”

I don’t feel fearful about this move anymore. In fact, along with my new husband, I know it's one of the best choices of my life.