38) Wagons West: Starting a New Game

This was no small feat. It was also not without risk. We didn't have any savings. We didn't have any assets. Our house was the only thing we had. Thankfully, it had appreciated significantly in the 18 years we'd owned it. It also helped that property is very cheap in New Mexico compared to Wisconsin.

So the stars somehow aligned. I was able to transfer within my company. We got enough money for our house that we were able to buy a 5.5 acre hobby farm in the Estancia Valley. It was the perfect little house on the perfect little property. Instead of renting a moving truck, we bought a '99 diesel F250 from my wife's old boss and rented the biggest U-Haul trailer available. We were going to need a farm truck, anyway, and my wife always loved driving that particular truck at work. This had the added bonus of limiting what we could bring with us. That may sound strange, but our new house is much smaller than the old one. Having to pack everything into a trailer and a pickup bed forced us to let go of things that we may not have otherwise let go of. Sometimes in life it is important to be able to let go of things. Especially when you are embarking on a long quest to a distant land.

We brought some clothes, some bedding, and some wall art. We brought one couch and a kitchen table. We gave away or left behind all of the rest of our furniture and appliances. I brought my hobby supplies and my Kings of War armies. Rebecca brought her books and her video games. That's all.

The pet rats and the chickens (and duck) rode with me in the truck. The dogs rode with Rebecca in the Buick. With the rising sun our little wagon train embarked on our 30 hr journey into the American Southwest. We crossed endless hazy fields of corn, sweating in the August heat. We braved driving rain. When we got tired we slept in our vehicles with our animals. We followed ill-advised GPS routes down unpaved dirt roads in Kansas and Oklahoma. We crossed the vast plains of Texas and finally reached the Canadian River and the border of New Mexico. Along the way we nearly lost one of our chickens to heatstroke, but we were able to revive him with a bag of ice. We also suffered a delay near Wichita when the running lights on the U-Haul trailer stopped working at night. I had to run into a local Walmart and buy battery powered red LED cyclist lights to mount on the trailer so I wouldn't get pulled over. In Santa Rosa our trailer blew a tire, and we had to wait two hours in the desert sun for a tow truck driver to bring out a replacement wheel. Eventually though, we reached the end of the trail. We were exhausted, but we made it. Also we both had dysentery from truck stop pizza, but we got better.

We bought used appliances and furniture from flea markets. We got settled in. We ran 1600 feet of fencing around the property, digging every post and pounding every picket with simple hand tools. We built a corral and a chicken run. We were going to build a very rudimentary lean-to for the horse shelter, but a generous housewarming gift from my Aunt Joan meant that we could spoil our horses with a really nice pre-manufactured barn from a local builder! The barn was delivered just in time for our horses to arrive in the Fall.

Once the horses had landed, they immediately settled in and decided that they loved it here as much as we do. Every day is a sunny day. It was 60 degrees on New Year's. I'm writing this in February, and my window is open because it is beautiful and warm. The chronic pain that normally haunts my shoulder and my back in the winter has been absent this year. I can once again lift my arms over my head like I could when I was young. I can sit in a chair and read without my neck stiffening up and my lower back hurting. I can sit at a desk and paint for more than 30 minutes at a time. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I feel 15 years younger.

Moving away from the cold and the damp to the warm and the dry is probably the best decision I have ever made. It's peaceful out here and the skies are clear. I've never seen constellations so bright.

I miss seeing my family and my friends in Wisconsin, and I know they miss seeing me, but my family is still my family, and my friends are still my friends. We're just farther apart now than before. Starting a new game doesn't mean you erase your previous one.

I'm out here exploring a new land, meeting new people, and enjoying everything this new expansion has to offer.

I've even found New Mexican nerds to play games with, and I acquired a legendary steed (Molly Mule)

And yes, normal job is still normal.