It's Sunday, the day I usually use to look ahead at the upcoming week in preparation for what's to come. Today happens to be Mother's Day, the day before our first wedding anniversary, we are nine days away from the third anniversary of becoming homeowners AND twenty-one days away from the first anniversary of Pippin Points. It ALL happens in MAY! I'm overwhelmed but not just at my upcoming week, at the upcoming month!
I think moving forward, I will encourage future 'big deals' to happen in months other than May. Despite being slightly overwhelmed by all that is happening this month, I am so incredibly proud of all of our milestones that I feel compelled to share.
This morning, while driving to Lowe's to shop for a project, we reminisced about a wacky 'moving in' story that I had somehow forgotten about or just trauma blocked. I feel distanced enough from it to share without wanting to move immediately.
We were living about an hour away from Fredericksburg when we purchased this home and my husband (then bf) was already working in the area. We had been looking for homes for a while, suffered multiple 'first time home buyer' issues, started working with our second realtor, and finally got a lead on this little gem. It had just been put on the market and our realtor shared that it would go fast. She wasn't kidding. My husband went to look at it that afternoon, and that same afternoon he put in an offer. I was onboard, obviously, but sight unseen. That's trust baby or maybe just stupidity, I'm still trying to figure that out.
Needless to say, and long story short, it was ours. We bought it from an old lady who was colorblind (maybe), devoid of good taste and didn't believe in cleaning, bless her heart. It literally looked like an Easter egg inside, each room (and closet) was a different shade of horrible pastel. She was even so thoughtful as to leave cans of each color upstairs just in case we had any retouching to do. My mom and I spent a solid week and every minute of each of those seven days in it painting everything WHITE and cleaning.
We moved in and everything was great but I couldn't rid myself of this feeling. It wasn't a bad feeling or a good feeling but it was a feeling that wouldn't go away. The house was full of old house quarks and things to learn. We were settling in nicely but for whatever reason I couldn't shake this weird vibe.
I tried my usual tricks; some house cleansing, feng shui, essential oils and I burned a shit ton of sage. I'm sure there were improvements from all of the above but I was not getting the result I was hoping for. I went to a local shop that sold essential oils to pick up some that I had read would help to clear and cleanse energy. I was super vague with the lady in the shop but she seemed to sense my mission. She started asking questions and quickly knew an abbreviated version of my story. After a brief conversation and some prodding she informed me that there was something in my attic, the far right hand corner of my attic, to be exact. She insisted it wasn't evil or bad but it was a dark energy that I needed to get rid of. Umm... What the hell?! I tried to keep my cool. She told me there was an object there (she didn't know what) that I needed to get rid of. Great. I left feeling disturbed. I mean, was this really happening? So much for wanting the charm that comes with an older home, I was ready to pack up and find a new build!
Looking back, almost three years later and I wish so badly we had documented this experience better, but unfortunately we didn't. We were so terrified that taking pictures wasn't even in our thought process. I remember calling my mom and several friends, I'm sure. Probably letting them know that if there was a freak accident and we both ended up dead, not to worry, it's just the 'dark' object in the far right corner of our attic. My husband was recruited for the dirty work, very reluctantly, I might add.
The far right corner of our attic happens to be over our bedroom, perfect. It is an unusable attic space, without electricity, filled with duct work and insulation. Armed with flashlights and lots of positive juju we went to check it out. I'm pretty sure he was just cussing and I was spewing the positive juju. Exactly where she said 'it' would be we (he) found a nasty, balled up, old sweatshirt and a blue hood visor with airbrushed lettering that said 'A Country Boy Can Survive.' Sweet lord... and good riddance. Now you know why I trauma blocked this. I don't even know how to elaborate on our findings. I'm sure there is a story behind each item but our story with them ended quickly with a run to the recycling center.
Today, almost three years later, as I type, I'm listening to my husband hammer away on an outside trellis project, and I am overcome with gratitude. I can't believe how far we've come. I'm beyond relieved that the weird vibe and energy left our home with the redneck hood visor. And that since eliminating that weird shit the only suspect energy we've encountered has been stuff we brought in, nothing lingering or leftover from Ms. Pastel.
So... Here's to the month of May! I hope that this is the beginning of the best one yet! Thank you to all you beautiful souls out there that encourage us, laugh with us, laugh at us, and support us. We love you all and look forward to so many more stories, anniversaries, and memories together.