My last post was a week ago, and even that was kind of a non-post. The reason? Well, crazy busy is one. The other is that our reality at the Apple House has been a bit hard to deal with recently, and I have been avoiding writing about it.
In just a few weeks the Wright family will be leaving our log cabin in the orchard and heading to another community that is also rich in agriculture, just not in our backyard.
Just as we didn't plan to move to an apple orchard 50 miles south of the Canadian border, we also were not planning on leaving the orchard just under a year later. Life happens, and lately, life has been happening a bit too much to our family.
So, we are headed to the Willamette Valley, in search of, well, greener pastures. Because while September is an idyllic time to live in an orchard, the work situation in this particular valley has been more like a nightmare.
I'm certainly looking forward to several things about our new home. We will be close to Portland. I will live withing a few minutes of any convenience I could want. We will live close to family for the first time in eight years, and we will be living in a modern, warm, sheet-rocked house.
However, I know that there is a great deal that I will miss about this house and this community. Of course I will miss the space this house provides, a large workshop and a craft room, along with a play room and a huge kitchen are not luxuries we can afford in the city. (However, I will be thankful for less space to clean.) It is harvest season, and I have all ready canned over 100 jars of fruit, none of which I payed for, all of it harvested from the trees in our yard and in our neighbors' yards. I doubt that will ever happen again. I will miss the walks with my boys through the orchards, and I will miss my chickens who will not be coming with us.
Most of all, I will miss the people. The friends we have made here have left a deep impression on our hearts and it will be hard leave them. Last year as I drove out of Seattle, with only my eight month old baby as a travel companion, I cried. Leo will be my lone passenger again, but at 19 moths old, I will have to wait until he is napping to let my tears flow this time.
Several people have asked me if I will continue this blog, if I will rename it, if I will continue my business. I will continue blogging here. It has become an excellent platform for my business as well as a place to share my love of vintage and crafty goodness. I will continue my business in Oregon. I'm excited to find new venues and meet new clients. I also expect that having a much larger potential customer base will benefit my growth. I will not being changing the blog's name or my business name. I want to honor where this whole thing started, in a crazy log house, 50 miles north of nowhere. I want to remember that out of cold and dark and depression and loneliness something beautiful, profitable, productive and creative was born.
I'll be scarce for a few weeks, but I'll check in with some posts about all the yummy things I've been canning. Most crafting will be halted until we are moved into our new house, but I will be holding a furniture painting and refinishing workshop here before I go and I will try to remember to take pictures!
So, here we go, on another adventurer.