New Life

I moved to  Tiny Town SD this past February. Through the grace of The Universe, Weed Killer knows someone who has rental properties and posted on Facebook in January 2015 that he had a place. I lived in  Gay Boyfriend's basement for eight years. Less than 400 square feet for eight years. But it was safe. It was small. It was cozy. I had the backyard, because you know, Gay Boyfriend has a dislike for the out of doors. My garden! The Fertile Crescent, weeded for years, planted in good faith, hail storms aside, was my home. But it was time and when Weed Killer texted me and said, "You need to call him today." I said, "Okay." And two hours later, he texted and said, "Did you call him?" I said, "No." He said, "DO IT. NOW. You are going to live there. It's perfect for you."

I knew the guy that was renting. No stranger to me, I couldn't. I just couldn't. But I also knew that Weed Killer wasn't going to take no for an answer. So I called and he said, "Meet you up there this weekend." So I did. And then I went up with Weed Killer. And then I took Sparrow up. And EVERYONE THINKS THIS IS A GOOD IDEA. But I was so scared. Cowgirl asked me once, "Doesn't scared and excited feel the same in your stomach? Maybe you're just excited." But I wasn't excited. I was scared.

Only when Sparrow and I were driving back to Big City, SD, I looked to my right and I saw a bird. A very large bird perched on the side of the road. It's January, mind you. I said, "Is that a pheasant?" Sparrow said, "No, Kate. It's a red-tailed hawk." And I just knew. I knew it was time. That was my sign. The Universe had sent a very clear message that this was supposed to happen and well? I did it. Fear aside, I packed it all up, gathered the crew, and moved.

And here I am, almost a year later. There was a Fertile Crescent on the Prairie. My landlord showed up one day in May with a tractor and plowed it right up. I manage my own internet service, my own garbage and sewer, my own water and heat, and outside of the night we had a straight line wind storm when the power went out and I had no idea where my flashlights were (It's super dark in the country when the lights go out) I'm so happy. I'm so, so very happy.

Red-tailed hawks have been following me ever since.  Every night in the summer, they would do fly-bys while I was outside reading. At one time, three pair convened in my backyard. I am protected in my new adventure. And frankly, for those of you who know I want to live in the woods in Minnesota some day, I am learning what I need to know in order to make that happen.

I have a client that I see regularly. He asks me every week why we have to live in this world, in this economy, and why can't we all just sleep in hammocks and grow our own food on the beach? And every time he starts this, I say, "If that's your dream, then what are you doing to make it happen?" He gets mad at me, but I won't drop it. If I want to live in the woods by myself some day, I have to develop the skills in order to do it. I know how to fish, I sort of know how to clean them, I am learning what independence in a storm looks like, I am learning to drive on the ice and snow, I can garden, and can, and plan ahead for Mother Nature. My next venture is hunting, because yanno, killing shit has to be on the list if I'm going to live in the wilderness. But this is the next step. And guess what? If I never get to live in the woods, that might just be okay, because I'm having fun getting ready for it.