don’t ask

During the first two weeks back in Nova Scotia, I didn’t feel like doing much other than relaxing at my step-mother’s cottage on the Bay of Fundy.  As if on vacation, I sat outside looking at the water or sat inside reading novels.  During the next two weeks, days of enthusiastically working through my move-home-to-do’s (healthcare coverage, driver’s license, new mobile number, change of address updates, financial stuff) were matched by days of feeling anxious and overwhelmed.  Along with the remaining move-home-to-do’s, I had tiny house arrangements and a growing list of actions for the farmhouse* and MBR property.

But progress wasn’t going to happen at MBR while I lived a 3 hour drive away in the cozy comfort of the cottage—so Greta and I moved into the farmhouse even though we didn’t have running water yet.  We’re essentially camping in the front porch.  As MAC stated when she saw the house, my OC-like and germ-phobic tendencies are indeed being tested.  But with my brother and sister-in-law’s help last week, we got a lot done already, including a giant yard sale.  After one week, I started sleeping better, feeling more comfortable, and getting back into daily meditation, exercise, and writing.

The craziest moment in the first month was when I was about to get in the shower at the cottage and saw a tick attached to the top of my foot.  Because of the threat of Lyme Disease, ticks are a serious concern in the northeast.  After a bit of mayhem yelling bad words and running around in my underwear with it attached to the top of my foot, I removed it correctly and then educated myself for future incidents.  My sister-in-law, Natalie, asked if I was thinking at the time you know, I could have worked a couple more years out west.

In the “oh, yes, I remember” category:

• The creepy sound of June bugs hitting the windows at night.
• Those tiny blackflies that bite hard.
• The 15% sales tax.
• Humidity.
• Strict waste collection rules for bagging compost, paper, plastic/metal, and landfill garbage separately in see-through bags.

There have been lots of ups, including:

• Walking the beach with my 6-year old niece (reminder: I need to stop saying “careful” to her so often).
• Having the time with my immediate family that isn’t a hurried week-long vacation.  Celebrating Canada Day with family.
• Meeting friendly and kind neighboUrs (they have offered help and I have already taken them up on it!).
• Observing magic hour light and sunsets.  Simply looking at the water/ocean/bay/basin/state of tide.
• Meeting the wonderful people who built my tiny house.

But don’t ask me “how’s retirement?”  I’m not employed, but I don’t know yet.  I think it will take a couple months after I start living in the tiny house for it to feel like the steady state from which I can answer that question.  Until then, I’m going slow, celebrating small victories, and frequently laughing at myself and my Green Acres moments.

*To distinguish it from the tiny house, I’ll call the existing house on the MBR property the “farmhouse.”

References and related links:

• MBR: Minas Basin Retreat, the property where I will be living in my tiny house.  The Minas Basin is an inlet of the Bay of Fundy (with the world’s highest tides).
• MAC: mon amie Caroline.
• OC: obsessive-compulsive.
• Lyme Disease Info (SOURCE: Province of Nova Scotia site).
• Green Acres: a 1960’s TV show about city folk who move to a farm.