Did I Shave My Legs For This??

Five years ago I moved away from Indiana. More specifically, I moved to Arizona to get away from the COLD of Indiana. While apparently I possessed the thick skin every Midwesterner must have in order to endure the harsh winters, it didn't mean I had to like it. Okay, so I guess the occasional snowfall is alright. I mean I like the stuff for what it is, but let's be honest -- unless you're someone who doesn't have to get out of your warm cozy house and shovel, scrape, defrost, de-ice, direct your car across the roads, and generally freeze your fingers off by the stuff -- beyond that there isn't much to like.

It took less than a year of residing in the hot and sunny climate of Phoenix for my blood to thin out. My body had acclimated, thereby making me a wuss whenever the temperature hit so much as 50 degrees. The deed was done, and there was no turning back. Quite happy with the changes I'd made, I said I'd never return to Indiana again to live. And it wasn't just simply because I didn't want to. It was because I knew my body just wouldn't hear of such a thing.

When I finally gave in and decided to move to North Carolina, it was after months of agonizing, and filled with many mixed emotions (We'll save that for another day). Yet I was able to console myself with the fact that while the climate would be nowhere near what I was used to via the desert life, at least the winters would be much milder than the harsh ones of Indiana. My parents assured me that not only was there a difference felt in temperature, but also that snow rarely rarely fell within the area in which they lived.

While on my trek from Arizona to the other side of the country, I made a little detour and spent three horrible weeks in Indiana. Not because of the people of course but rather, it was the weather that did me in. While hanging out at my aunt and uncle's, I could often be found with a huge blanket wrapped around me. Even my bones were frozen and literally the only true relief I found was when I opened the oven door and leaned in close. I could not wait to get to North Carolina. Given the fragility of my poor, Phoenician-converted body and its inability to withstand any temperatures much below 60 degrees, I should have known better than to think all would be magically better upon arriving there. After all it was December. And it was the East coast. Needless to say, a snowstorm the likes of which had not been seen in 20 years decided to place itself at the cabin door the night before our arrival. It tauntingly called out in shrill, sarcastic tone "I knew you were coming, and wanted to make your big move extra special! Welcome to your new home!"

Now, I don't think I have to tell you just how prepared a rural North Carolina town is when it hasn't seen snow in 20 years. Hmm. Yeah, not very prepared. Having looked forward to a much more joyous arrival, Mom and Dad instead had to figure out how to get the moving truck full of all our stuff into the driveway. That was step one. Step two? Unload everything and carry it into the house. Again, an emphatic HMM...

To say the least, it was an adventure -- the first of many hiccups (as I would later discover) in this "charting new territory" move across the country. And the adventure is just beginning...

In an instant I went from this...

To THIS...

There WAS one bright spot though...

...seeing this little guy get to experience snow for the first time...

Precious.

The Beginning of A New Adventure...

ad·ven·ture /æd'vεnt∫Ər/

1. An exciting or very unusual experience.

2. Participation in exciting undertakings or enterprises.

3. A bold, usually risky undertaking; hazardous action of uncertain outcome.

In November of 2009, I stuffed my most precious of belongings into Huckleberry (my trusty Honda CR-V) and headed East. Oh, I wish I could say West instead, because heading out West just sounds so much more romantic, so much more... adventurous. But I did that 5 years ago when leaving Indiana for the sizzling state of Arizona. But I digress... I headed East and 11 states later, reached North Carolina -- the place where I was about to begin a new adventure.

I've always loved adventure, and if you know anything about me at all, you know this already. Just the mere mention of the word gets me excited. Except sometimes adventure involves more than excitement and thrill... the fun of it all. Depending on how long your "adventure" may be, it sometimes requires hard work, perseverance, patience...lots of endurance...and the willingness to be in a state of the unknown. Sometimes for a great while.

The word adventure conjures images in my mind of the men and women who left everything and headed out west to pioneer new territory. Of the Pilgrims building themselves a new life, intent on making it a better one. Of Columbus braving uncharted waters in search of unseen lands. We tend to romanticize them -- oh, how exciting it must have been to set out on such adventures. And I'm sure it was for them in the beginning. But what about the raging seas, the fury of disease, the constant battles they fought just to stay alive.

Moving to a new place is certainly adventurous, but definitely requires determination. As I saw in Arizona, it took me years to finally settle in and make it my own. And now I am on a new adventure. In search of better health, better finances, and the happiness of having family near, I chose to relocate to North Carolina and completely uproot the life I'd previously built for myself.

So I've moved here and I have no idea what is going to happen next. No idea where I'll work, or how I'll pay my bills. I have no idea when or where I'll make new friends. A move is exciting at first, but inevitably difficult and filled with unknowns. This blog is about chronicling this adventure. And the process of change as it unfolds...