Although I most certainly don’t find my world lonely. Nor will I be taking that midnight train anywhere (and yes, we are near the train – just one part of the “Sounds of Beaver” collection).
Where to start. Where to start. Do I backtrack and recount the difficulties that just mounted and grew over these last few months? Do I seriously want to go backwards and emotionally unravel the difficulty that was our journey to Beaver?
Sure I’ll make comment here and there about the events that added to what George and I seriously consider the most difficult time we’ve ever experienced in our 18 years of marriage, but to give that pain the spotlight of an entire post? No way. Move over, crap. Good riddance. My father described it best, “Your experience was due to a horrible recession and really weird people.”
As usual. Sigh.
For my debut post from my third floor office in Beaver (MINE! ALL MINE!), I decided just to take the easy road and give you some initial impressions from my first 5 days here:
- Yes. It does feel a bit like Mayberry. And I mean that in the most heartfelt way. I’m not poking fun. Beaver does have that Mayberry feel. Apparently I’m not the only one who thinks so.
- On day one, with moving van out front, we had two girls come over and introduce themselves, met the Sr. Pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Beaver who lives two doors down, (not to be confused for Four Mile Presbyterian where George is on staff), received a plate of cookies from our neighbors across the street, a hanging flower basket, and were greeted by pretty much every person who either walked or drove up the street. Friendly? Um, yeah.
- I learned that I probably need to take “unplugged retreats” now and then, as having 4 days of no internet proved to be a fantastic form of relaxation.
- There is a thrift store and consignment shop on the main street, which, by the way, is called Third Street – for future reference. A portion of it is pictured above. You know me and secondhand stores. I’ve already visited.
- Everyone at my new bank is super helpful and friendly. I can’t leave Chase fast enough. The hassles they put me through in order to notarize my power of attorney document prior to closing and their inability to help me with some funds that needed to be wired (long story – not worthy of a post), had me itching to find a new bank. Immediately. No Chase in this town.
- 12:44 AM. There goes the train.
- The siren for the Volunteer Firemen had George thinking there was a tornado. So funny. He made us all run to the basement. According to our neighbors, it will go off whenever there is a fire in the area. And as they shared, “If it continues to run, this signals that the nuclear plant has had a problem. At that point you might has well just sit on your porch and have a beer.” Yikes.
- Harper. Tennis Camp. New town. Knowing nobody. Not a problem. Won a tournament at the end of the week. She is absolutely comfortable here.
- Zane. Not as comfortable. Asks when we are going home. He is, as he puts it, “infused” (confused). My hunch was correct that we completely underestimated how he would react to the move. So today, we took some empty boxes and created a little town on the porch. Then we played with clay and bubbles, and anything that would bring out giggles.
- My plumber? A gem of a guy. After installing our hot water heater, he offered to go and pick up our water softener (yup, we need one of those) that I purchased if I wouldn’t fit it in my car. Service, people. The service is incredible.
- Mario’s. Brick oven pizza’s, antipasto, gelato. A block and a half from the house. Need I say more?
- Cafe Kolache. Locally owned coffeehouse. Free wireless. Next door to Mario’s.
- The gem of my week? AK Nahaus. Hands down, by far, the BEST appliance store I have ever visited. I was told to purchase my washer and dryer (and anything else I needed) from this family owned business. Prices? Great. Service? Unlike I have ever experienced. Anywhere. My words won’t do this place justice. But I’ll try.
So, I walk in with the kids. I share that we just moved to Beaver. The kids are invited over to the flat screens for some Spongebob. I am walked around the store by the owner. The owner, who after helping me choose my appliances calls his other location so I can pick up a split box spring (ours wouldn’t make it up the staircase). We get my order squared away before I drive to the next location where the sales associate who the owner called is waiting for me. The prices are so amazing that I decide to retire our 18 year old mattress and purchase a new one as a surprise for George for Father’s Day.
The owner then stops by the house after work to measure for a new stove (ours doesn’t work) and to insure that the washer and dryer can make it down our side stairs. We sit and chat for awhile. I actually offer him a slice a pie that someone brought us. I mention that our TV was broken in transit. He offers us to loan us one off the floor until we can afford a new one.
House calls? Loaner TV’s? Plumbers offering to pick up items at Sears?
Where am I?
1:00 AM train just went by.
Time to crawl into my new bed.
Tomorrow’s post: my own Brady Bunch episode . . .