It finally happened! This past week we closed on our house in New Mexico. It has been a long road of negotiations, concessions, ups, downs, and even disappointments. But at least it sold.
Our house was a labor of love and the place that we called home for five years of our lives. It became the anchor after years of shuffling between houses due to mold and illness, and the cycle of being jobless that would follow my illnesses because Dom needed to stay home and care for me.
This was the home Simone spoke her first real words in and engaged in her first real conversations when she was five years old. It was the place she could play outside and feel free to explore, dig, catch butterflies, and discover new bugs. She planted flowers, harvested vegetables with me, and even helped care for animals.
Our home was a dream realized, homesteading made real. It was the place where we would spend hours planning gardens, finding creative ways to collect resources, and then dreaming even bigger.
This house was a mold free environment that helped facilitate my healing, making it possible for me to return to the east coast.
Our home was an arena of debates, arguments, discussions, misunderstandings, anger, turmoil, stress, and at times confounding sadness. It was the place where my relationship with my father ended. Living fatherless when your father is still alive is not easy. But God has always been good to me, lavishing on me His Love, so in this I take comfort.
This house was also a place of absolute bliss, warmth, love, family get togethers, holidays, forgiveness, joy, empathy, and unrelenting optimism.
Our home was the birthplace of Luna Hill. The chronicles of our lives that I’ve kept for the last five years. Does it contain everything? No way. We live very private lives, but I guess the parts that I don’t feel are private, seem intimate to many, and I’ve developed fond friendships and close relationships with a number of readers through the years as a result of this blog.
We had a collection of over 60 ducks, 30 chickens, 2 pigs, 1 dog, 2 rabbits, and 15 turkeys.
We planted an ambitious variety of fruit trees and gardens to create an oasis in the desert that has endured even with us moving away and no longer tending to the trees. The passive infrastructure in place now will continue to harvest water on its own for many years to come with very little for the new owners to do.
Will the new owners appreciate what we did? I don’t know. They may rip it all out if that is their choice, but if they observe for a long while, they will see the wisdom of never needing to water the trees on their new property. If they do happen to start watering them, the trees may actually die. It took a few years of disciplined watering to get the trees to grow roots down deep instead of the roots growing horizontally. My hope is that the new owners see why this is important in the desert.
Our land became a place potlucks, fresh organic produce, and some of the most beautiful fruits and vegetables we’ve ever grown.
It was an amazing home. It still is!
Blood, sweat, tears, laughter, countless hours rehabbing the house, all the money invested in making the house actually livable…it was worth it.
We’ve closed yet another chapter in our lives, and we are currently writing a new chapter.