Crazy Squared: From High Rises to Rolling Hills

As a little girl I was always quite content staying inside playing with Barbies rather than climbing trees and catching frogs. And I certainly never begged for a pet--the only animals I liked were ones that were stuffed or on my plate. So it was a family joke growing up that I would marry a country boy, move out of the suburbs and into a place where animals outpopulated the people, and have a house full of boys.

Well, I guess the punchline of that joke is that it came true.

Last Saturday we said goodbye to Charlotte, our home of six years, and traveled northeast in our classy Budget truck packed to the gills with all of our earthly possessions. And here we are . . . in the tiny village of Philomont, only an hour outside of Washington D.C. but with a culture and feel of decades past. Our rental home for the next year-- a carriage house built in 1900 that sits nestled behind a bed and breakfast.

Within four days I have already realized that the world turns quite differently here in Loudoun County, Virginia. I have already had to accept that this new season of my life is one where my my previous 5 minute jaunt to Target would turn into a 30 minute drive, and one where I would be without a dishwasher and (gasp!) my closet. 'Tis true--no bedroom closets in this historic home, but thankfully in these modern times we have Ikea. Oh yes, and mailbox delivery doesn't come to these here parts, but thankfully we're right across the road from the Philomont General Store where we can pick up our mail from Laura, who has been postmaster there since 1964. And if I want to pick up some milk or ice cream while I'm there, I don't have to worry about carrying my purse--I can just put it on my tab.

Life has certainly changed quite drastically for us this past week, but the open spaces, fresh country air, and small town life reminds us of where we are. Home.

The neighbors: