Yesterday morning, after snacking on a couple Snickerdoodle cookies from our gathering the night before, I made a bowl of fruit salad: watermelon, strawberries, and blueberries drizzled with syrup made from sugar, water, and oranges. I put on a blue cotton dress and a flannel shirt, and Bret made me stand outside to make sure I wouldn’t freeze since it was only 44 degrees outside. In May. Surprisingly, I didn’t freeze! I’m acclimating.
We got in the car, and drove 20 minutes to our friends’ house. Ten minutes of that drive were spent driving up, up, up a narrow mountain road. As usual, we couldn’t rely on the GPS completely. Something about winding gravel roads on a remote mountain doesn’t scream “priority” to google, I’ve learned. More than once, when trying to navigate home at night from a friend’s house, we’ve been stranded without GPS signal… or phone signal! Thankfully, Bret has an incredible sense of direction.
When we arrived, the house that looks like a log cabin was full of friends. They’d arrived with trays of homemade muffins, polenta, and salad. I added my fruit bowl to the table. Our hosts were making a frittata with local eggs that one of Bret’s colleagues had gathered from the chicken in her backyard. There were Bloody Mary’s and Mimosas and Turkish tea. We’d agreed that it was too cold to eat on the back porch, so we pushed tables together and gathered around and enjoyed a really good meal. It felt good, familiar.
Last week, we went to a pot luck overlooking the best mountain view I’ve ever seen. It was breathtaking, truly. And Saturday night, we’d invited friends over to eat cheese fondue and watch a movie. We got a lot of last minute cancellations because grades were due this weekend, but we had fun with our small group. We talked and laughed and snacked. It felt good, familiar.
And then I went to the local farmer’s market with my friend and her new baby. We talked about needing to plan another girls’ night. The girls that I met through that Spouse Orientation are the biggest Boone blessing, I think. We all moved here from bigger cities, and while most people I’ve met find Boone perfectly endearing, we talk about how crazy it is that homes in Boone don’t typically have air conditioning, or trash pick up, or state maintained roads, or dishwashers. These girls are my reality check. Spending time with them always feels good and familiar.
I’m writing this to say, THIS is my Boone life: good, familiar.
We’re coming up on our first year of living in Boone, and everyone told me that after a year we’d know how we REALLY feel about it here. There are some things that are not ideal. There are some things that I’m still getting used to. We may not have a Target or a beach or a whole list of things I could tell you I miss, but, I have friends here. I have people who I care about and look forward to spending time with. And for that, I feel really, really lucky. I don’t imagine calling Boone home for the rest of my life. But. I’m grateful for the people that it has brought me. And sometimes, people mean more than Target.