We hadn’t intended to move to Taos, New Mexico, but that’s what happened after we visited friends who now lived there. Andy, who had been a fellow editor at the Gazette, and Toni, an artist, were cordial hosts who showed us a part of our country where we had never been. Think three distinct cultures, a mesa at the foot of a mountain range, buildings covered by stucco, hot springs, the Rio Grande, great food, a rich history, oh, the list goes on.
When we returned home to Worthington, Hank and I asked each other: Do you want to do what you’re doing for the next ten years? We both said no. We did have a great life in the hilltowns of Western Massachusetts. Hank’s skills as a woodworker were very much in demand. I had moved up the ranks from being a freelance correspondent covering my town to an editor at the Daily Hampshire Gazette. Our kids were grown and starting out in the world. We had a great house that so many people helped us build.
But we were ready for a change, a big one it seemed. One of my sayings, which I’ve shared before, is that change is inevitable, but I would rather seek change, then it seeks me.
People who live in Taos have another: The Mountain calls you. They are referring to what Taoseños call Taos Mountain, located in the Sangre de Cristos and one that is sacred to Taos Pueblo. There’s another: The Mountain kicks you out. Perhaps that happened to us. But the 11 years we lived in Taos was a wonderful and interesting experience.
Anyway before we could make that change, we needed to finish our house, which took a year, to get it ready to sell. We needed to wrap up things, including making sure our grown kids were in a good space. Our house sold in less than two weeks for the amount of money we asked — it might have been one of the last to sell for a while as the nation’s economy went belly-up in 2016.
We found a temporary place to live in Taos, a condo to rent, on a quick trip we made there. Then it was a matter of what we would take with us. I figured we had to either love something or need it although preferably both. That included Hank’s tools. We planned to ship our car and drive Hank’s 1996 Toyota pickup across the U.S. to meet the movers. We didn’t dare run the air-conditioner, so we rode across the country in August with the windows open. The ladders on the back made a constant whooshing noise. Here was our only conversation. “Do you want a peach?” I asked. “What sheep?” Hanks answered.
We had no idea what would happen in Taos after we arrived, but we were ready for it. There is so much to share, such as the pumice-crete house we had built, my job as top editor of The Taos News, and being immersed in a far different world than we had known.
By the way, that photo above is a winter scene I took from our backyard.
Stay tuned for this new series: En Taos. I will continue to write posts for Hilltown Postcards and North Fairhaven Girl, but I thought it was time to share my observations and adventures in New Mexico.