In 1994 John and I drove away from the Longhorn Ranch Motel
on a remote highway 60 miles south of Alpine, TX for the last time, vowing that
as we left that beautiful, desolate place we would never live in a city
again. As sometimes happens, vows get broken. We have lived in Austin for the past 16
years.
We re-adapted to city living very quickly, letting the
peace, stillness and quiet of Terlingua fade into our memory. Life in Austin has been good; we have no
complaints.
A little more than a year ago I resigned from a highly
responsible, stressful, exciting and challenging job in real estate. I was whipped. Since then I have recuperated, and am
unwilling to resume that fast pace. I
have wondered for some time where I now belong.
The past September, John and I drove to Wisconsin, staying
off interstate highways whenever possible. Something dawned on me. I don’t like interstate highways or the
cities they slice through. I am repelled
by the homogenization of American cities—they all look the same until you make
your way into the “historic downtown district.”
On the drive back to Austin, I heard myself propose to John
that perhaps our life in Austin is complete; perhaps we could live in a more
rural, quieter, slower -paced location.
I was shocked to hear myself say these things out loud, but not nearly
so shocked as John!
Long story short, next month we will move to Paris, TX , to
a home on four acres with a large pasture across the road and a 5 acre pond in
our back yard. We have succumbed to
urban fatigue.
Let it be known that I could not do this without modern
technology—I do not want to lose contact with my family and friends. Thankfully, we have cellphones and high-speed
Internet access…and Facebook.
I plan to continue blogging, and hope you will add your
comments and voice to the discussion.
Before long we will be in the throes of adjusting to country
living. I’m counting on my friends to
remind me periodically that I really, really wanted to do this.
