In life, a person will come and go from many homes. We may leave a house, a town, a room, but that does not mean those places leave us. Once entered, we never entirely depart the homes we make for ourselves in the world.
― Ari Berk
There was little time for reflection, when I sold my house in Taos at the end of May 2019. I was scrambling to do all the things you need to do to close on a sale. The closing was on May 30; ib June 1 I left on my road trip to the East Coast. So now, some four months after I left Taos, I’ve had a some time to reflect.
I have no regrets about selling the house. I feel that I made the right decision. But there are some things I miss.
What I Miss About Taos
I miss watching sunrises over the mountains from the front courtyard. The sky was so big and the sunrises so spectacular that I called them ‘Hallelujah Sunrises.” You could almost hear the angels singing.
I miss the sunsets over the sea of sagebrush behind my house that stretched all the way to the horizon.
I miss watching Annie run circles in the backyard.
I miss sitting in the courtyard, summer, winter, spring and fall, having coffee in the morning while Annie explored her domain.
I miss the red room where I watched TV, with its paintings by local artist Ed Sandoval which he painted directly on the walls) — and its view of the majestic Taos Mountain,
I miss my kitchen, which opened to the living/dining area on one side and to the TV room on the other.
I miss the feeling of owning my home — though I don’t miss the responsibility of the maintenance.
I miss my lunches with Mary and my budding friendship with Julie and with Doug, both of whom I met through the HOA board. I miss Judit, who took such good care of me and my house. I miss being close enough for occasional day trips to Santa Fe.
And that’s about all I really miss.
What I Don’t Miss
I don’t miss the wind that roared across the sagebrush with absolutely nothing to stop it. It was the most fierce in the spring, when you could hear it howl down the fireplace. It reminded me of Kansas and West Texas.
I don’t miss the dirt road. There were many, many dirt roads in Taos, some that led to million-dollar-plus houses. My dirt road was a little over a mile long, and I thought it quaint when I first moved in. I liked telling my city friends that I lived in a rural area on a dirt road. That bit of pleasure didn’t last long. I grew to dread the mud when it rained or after the snow melted, and the dust and grasshoppers in the summer. I hated that my newly washed car would be covered with dust by the time I pulled into the driveway.
I don’t miss the snakes and tarantulas. There were snakes on my patios in the spring, summer and fall, just garden snakes and bull snakes (although the bull snakes looked like rattlesnakes to me). The tarantulas came in October on their annual migration. Spider may crawl but tarantulas walk, at a slow stately pace, trekking through the thick grass in the backyard where Annie liked to play with them, and crossing the dirt road and disappearing into the field of sagebrush.
I don’t miss the HOA Board. Two homeowners ruined it for all of us with their complaints and demands. I will never again serve on an HOA board.
I don’t miss Taos. I was completely charmed by the town when I moved there. I liked the art scene, the restaurants, the festivals. It was me that changed, not Taos. I grew tired of the small town atmosphere. There were only five or six good restaurants, and two of them closed while I was there. There was an Albertson’s and a Smith’s, and a Cid’s, which was sort of a gourmet market, but no Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s. There was one good store for clothing and shoes (Steppin’ Out), and for everything else, Walmart (why couldn’t it have been a Target?) and Ace Hardware. I grew tired of online shopping — and very tired of the continuous returns.
So now I’m in Durango, which is about three times bigger than Taos (17,000 population vs. 5,000) and about 400 feet lower in elevation (6800 vs. 7200). Durango is green in summer, golden in fall, and it looks like a winter wonderland when it snows in winter. There’s a commercial airport, so friends and family can actually fly to Durango. The medical facilities seem to be excellent, so much better than Taos. PJ’s Market is better than Cid’s and City Market is better than Taos’ two grocery stores; there are more good restaurants, more variety, though we tend to have a circuit of three or four, but shopping is not much of an improvement — no clothing stores to equal Steppin’ Out, and we still have a Walmart, only this one is a SuperCenter (whoopee). There is a Bed, Bath and Beyond — but still no Target, no Trader Joe’s, no Whole Foods, and needless to say, no Nordstrom or Neiman Marcus, not even a Dillards.
The thing I love about living here is being close to Cynthia and Rey. I like where I’m living and the people I’ve met. Will that be enough in the long run?
Stay tuned . . .