While I could be using this (probably brief) respite to unpack the remaining box in my office, I am choosing instead to write the blog posts that I always have in my head but never get a chance to write. Every time that something big happens in my life (wedding, baby, moving), I am desperate to blog about it, but end up not being able to blog about the most important or interesting parts because of them actually happening and taking up all my time.
So... way back in July, then. June was so very rainy and horribly hot, that a bumper crop of mosquitos invaded the campus the next month. It was extremely itchy for everyone. We didn't like to take Limelet outside except at certain times of day when they seemed to be sleeping. However, the other aspect of the heat and wet was that there was also a magical outpouring of fireflies that July. The lawn outside the back windows of our squalid hovel blazed with the little critters in the way that I remember them being when I was little. (They're disappearing, as you probably know, so you can look up online how to encourage them if you wish.) But when we got here, there were no fireflies at all, though my coworkers claim there are some here. Somewhere. But what this place lacks in fireflies, it makes up for in cicadas. TheLimey had never seen one before; only their empty shells. He sure got a chance here. Limelet was really excited when we found several warming on the back pavement one morning. And our back yard is positively pockmarked with cicada-sized holes where they hatched and crawled out from.
I did somewhat say goodbye to the old campus, but a lot of it was rather hurried as we had so much to do, and for me to go anywhere pretty much requires that I bring Limelet along. I also didn't say goodbye or even hello to some of my old haunts in town that I was hoping to see, just because it was impossible to do anything at all, that entire year. (I know, you think I must be exaggerating, but I'm not.) It was a bit sad to leave, because I've lived in and out of that town off and on for the past 20 years, and I came of age there. Plus the campus itself is really beautiful. I was really sad to leave all those magnificent old oaks and sycamores that had become my reliable herbaceous friends over the years.
So it was with great delight that I discovered that our new place across from this new campus is right across the street from even bigger oaks and sycamores! (Although I'm still unacquainted with them personally.) This campus, while much much smaller, is very lovely and quite a bit older, too. TheLimey, who fell in love with the last place when we were living there, fell in love much more quickly with this place. He says it's like the previous campus, but condensed down to the most beautiful parts and buildings (all the ones from the '70s taken out). I'd have to agree with him. It's really quite historic (for the U.S., anyway) and verdant. It looks like other campuses' brochures try to make them look. And we live right across the street from it! From the (American) football field, actually.
We rented the house sight unseen from the college itself, and crossed our fingers that it would be okay. And it is OH-KAY, alright. We have been positively giddy with spaciousness. We even have a fenced-in back yard, and a little tea-room (as we call it) overlooking the front (football field) that has windows on three sides. Limelet has positively blossomed since we moved. If we had stayed in that previous hovel much longer, he was going to experience that thing where if you tether an elephant, it learns to only walk in tiny circles even after the tether is gone. He likes feeding tiny bits of stick to the poor Boston Terrier living next door, the patient creature.
So my walk to work is really, really nice. TheLimey used to (pessimistically, I thought) declare that the last location was going to be the best walk-to-work experience I'd ever have (although it was a bit of a hike), but he's since recanted and can't believe that I found one that's even better. If I actually lived and worked inside some kind of gorgeous garden, maybe I could improve on this. Maybe.
Which reminds me, I really think that one way this country could save gas and reduce health costs would be to put showers in more workplaces. I can't tell you how many times people have said to me (and I've thought to myself), "I'd just jog/bike to work if I could shower there."
Anyway. Not only is our new home great, and our view, and my work site, but the whole town is just really cool. (For people our age, anyway.) We found an honest-to-goodness teahouse within walking distance, and it's like we designed it ourselves somehow. It's in the bottom floor of an old townhouse, which has been somewhat opened up. It's very eclectically decorated with paintings and knick-knacks, and every tea setting is a different pattern. They have a wonderful tea selection (though one does have to specifically ask for milk), as well as soup, sandwiches, pastries, etc. So far everything I've tried has been absolutely delectable.
We also visited downtown one weekend morning (hurriedly), and the (traditional-style) market is chock full of gorgeous-looking vegetables, fruits, dairy, meats (if you like that sort of thing), spices, teas and coffees, candies, and then also some of the usual handi-craft-y kind of stuff. If you like that sort of thing. In the building next door is also a little shop selling British imports, so I got to try Marmite flavored crisps, which I now want a lot more of.
Apparently I was planning to blog something about birds, but I don't remember what specifically. Oh, unless it was just that I finally got my bird feeder up and have been happy to see my familiar chickadees and cardinals. Although there is some kind of something singing a lovely song I don't recognize.
Oh yeah, and we have actually had an autumn here! Already! By that I mean that it didn't go from 90-degree weather to 40-degree weather with only 16 hours in between. No, we've actually had nearly two weeks of the kind of proper autumn weather that makes one want to wear a corduroy sport coat, preferably fawn-colored with leather patches on the elbows. Unbelievably nice.
The only bad thing is that every few Saturdays, there is a fireworks display somewhere nearby that begins without warning exactly when I am tiptoeing over to the bed with the finally sleeping Limelet.