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yet another post about our move

September 19, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

Yes, this is another post about our move. I promise there will come a day (soon) when I will stop with the incessant talk about moving to Arkansas. I will return to blogging about FoodFarmGarden&Life or whatever pops into my head.

Today is not that day.

(I do have a post coming up soon on mayonnaise. See how I worked in a little teaser to keep you hanging?)

Today I’m still blabbing about the move. How can I not? After almost thirty years in Texas, more than half my life, I am headed home to Arkansas. That’s huge. Plus, we’ve been in our Worth Street house twelve years. In twelve years the kids grew up and moved to college. So many meals and parties and conversations occurred around the dining room table. We planted trees and shrubs that now shade the yard.

Yesterday I loaded my car with things the moving truck wouldn’t carry.

Plants.

Plants riding shotgun.

When I pulled from the driveway, I looked at the backyard with a different eye. Soon the Japanese Maples we planted and nurtured will belong to someone else. (sigh)

And then I drove away.

Everything I passed took on a different, bittersweet meaning.

Other than a traffic jam in Atoka (for real), my drive through Oklahoma was uneventful. (In case you don’t realize, driving from Dallas to Fayetteville is mostly spent in Oklahoma…)

I snapped yet another blurry picture of the Welcome To Arkansas sign through my bug-splattered window, because that’s what I do. This time it felt different.

Driving the final stretch into Fayetteville, I watched for turning trees. A hint of fall colored the landscape, but it’s still early.

This year I will see it. Live it. Experience fall from beginning to end.

Look what greeted me at our back door! I planted this coneflower two weeks ago when we closed on the house. It was sad and scraggly and hidden on the clearance rack at Lowe’s. I expected to wait a year to see blooms.

This pop of color made me dizzy happy. What a perfect ending to my drive.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

P.S. Fair warning—today the moving truck arrives. I’m sure there will be a blog somewhere in there.

“Reality isn‘t round, it‘s flat. There are edges where you can fall off and this October when I moved to Maine, I fell off one.”
― Carrie Jones, Captivate

Musical Pairing:

Uncle Kracker – Smile

Moving Day!

September 17, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

Yesterday our moving company (Bekins) sent a crew over to “prep” for our move. And to pack our kitchen. I decided it would be best to leave our breakables (all those egg dishes) to the professionals. And man alive, THEY WERE AMAZING.

Silly me. I thought they would only pack up dishes. No. They wrapped every single can of beans and tomato sauce individually. I had no idea.

These guys had some mean packing skills.

In the past few days, I’ve packed most everything else. The house echoes the emptiness.

Our truck did a drive by yesterday to make sure it could clear the thick canopy of Live Oaks shading Worth Street. Thankfully, it did. And the truck is my favorite color, so there’s that. (It’s the little things.)

This morning our house is a maze of boxes. The guys and the truck will be back soon to load everything. What a strange feeling. Strange yet exciting.

I’ll see you on the other side. The Arkansas side, that is!

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

bubble wrap selfie

Musical Pairing:

Simple Minds – Don’t You (Forget About Me)

The House that Owns Us

September 15, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

I’ve come to believe we don’t own a place, a place owns us. Oh sure, legally we make payments and claim ownership even when the mortgage company may share in the title. But as we scrape and paint every corner and memorize each creak of the floorboards, the place becomes part of the fabric of our family, the place where memories are made and held like a family photo album.

Our Worth Street home celebrated her 104th birthday this year. Our twelve years here is only a flash compared to the families who came before us.

Yesterday we had the pleasure of visiting with Mark and Betsy Hults, the prior owners who sold us Worth Street and called this place home for eighteen years. Mark and Betsy did MAJOR renovation to the home. And they prove my point of a place owning us. After they heard the house was on the market, they asked to visit, to see the home one more time. I was thrilled. I needed to talk to someone who once felt the exact angst I am feeling.

the house that will always own us

We walked through each room, shared family memories and tales that come with living in a historic home. Although we don’t know each other that well—communicating only a couple of times since they sold the house to us and moved to Atlanta—our house gives us an instant bond. Both our families love this place and always will. (They raised a son and daughter here too.)

Places touch us. We do the best we can while its ours. We trust the next owner will continue caring for her, maintaining, improving and loving her. She’s part of us.