Finally, I get around to talking about my vacation! Well, it definitely wasn't long enough. But then again, they rarely are. I'm apologizing in advance, as this turned into quite a lengthy post, but I just wanted to get it all out; I didn't want to do it in parts.
It was a nice, relaxing weekend. The weather wasn't always great, and when they have visitors it's almost like a vacation for them, too. I helped my grandmother feed and she explained her morning ranch rituals. I helped them move their main herd to new pasture, and sorted out a bull that no longer need to be with them. He proved to be easy, he sorted himself into a corner and we just shooed the cows into another pen before leading them to new pasture with a bale of hay on the feed truck to entice them. And my grandmother on the ATV behind the herd so we didn't lose any cows along the way.
My grandfather, who also puts out a monthly publication, started showing me little things about it. I learned that apparently, when it comes to publishing, everything is done on Mac. Hmm. I own a PC. Macs are expensive. PC's can be relatively cheap. Anyway, he handed me a couple pieces of paper and a pencil and told me to make up an ad for a local restaurant that doesn't advertise in his publication. I've never made an ad before. I'm just glad he gave me a pencil. We'll leave it at that.
Later he showed me how he does it, and he makes it look easy. And his looked way better than mine. Of course he's been doing it most of his life. He could do this stuff in his sleep! Then he asked me to write an article or story for his publication, the history of another north-eastern California town. I agreed, and he gave me some stuff to use for resources. I shall begin work on that today, as it's my night off and I can actually focus on something instead of worrying about what time I need to get to bed by. I'm hoping to have it done and emailed to him by Monday so he has it in plenty of time for the December edition of his publication.
It stormed all day Sunday. Like, heavy winds and pelting rain kind of storm. We stayed inside and watched recordings of The Closer. Had a potluck lunch of leftovers from the previous couple days. For dinner we went to the hottest restaurant ever. I don't mean hottest, as in "it's the place to be!"; more like, wood stove heat kind of hottest. I nearly had a heat stroke before my dinner arrived. I practically ran outside when it was time for us to leave. When I awoke the next morning, I found snow in the mountains near their house. There hadn't been a drop of snow until that night. Explains why I couldn't get warm my last night there. Because it was freakin' freezing. And the first pass I had to climb over, was that frozen, snowed in pass. Yeah. Lovely.
Now, here comes hard part. If you haven't read my previous post regarding a very important matter I've been toiling with, please read it here.
All of your comments on that post meant so much to me. (even those that commented about it on Facebook). I didn't respond to them because I couldn't. I didn't know what to say. I still don't, actually. They made me shed more tears - not in a bad way. But all of your thoughts echoed in my head. I honestly cannot express how much I have thought about this and how many tears I have shed.
Mostly because it scares me. Dropping everything I have here in Sacramento, and making such a life-changing move. Not that I have a ton here in Sac-town, anyway. Like I've stated before, I live paycheck to paycheck. I work graveyard, which throws a nice little curve ball in my attempts at a social or dating life. I'm not overly happy with my job. While I like most of the people I work with, and I kind of like what I do (I'm still helping animals and veterinarians), I don't love my job and there are several people that have a tendency to bring out the bitch in me. And overall, I'm not particularly happy where I am.
I wasn't in my grandparents house more then 15 minutes before my grandfather started asking me questions regarding this possibility. The possibility of moving to cow-ville and taking over one or both of the businesses. I wasn't expecting it so quickly, and I felt a little like I was on a job interview . . . that whole being put on the spot thing; a little out of place. We talked a little bit about it, then my grandmother came back from working on an ATV. They told me their ideas and what they'd been brainstorming, and wanted my input.
They took me to the trailer, which is a mobile home they purchased awhile back and is used as a guest house. According to them, this is where I would stay. (Sorry, I really didn't take any pictures of it, because you can easily use your imagination). I would get the master suite, and the second bedroom would still be used for guests. They would allow me to live there, rent-free, in exchange for help on the ranch and their publication. This place is quite large. Now, here's where the imagination comes in: the 70's called and they want their decor back. Not kidding. The rotary phone is older than I am. (And if you have no idea what a rotary phone is, Google it. This also means you're far too young and sheltered. Also, side note - when did Google become a verb?) The carpet and linoleum are new. Wood paneling everywhere. The paneling in the master bath is white with gold inlay. Yeah. But it has double sinks, because every girl should have two sinks. It has a huge bathtub, and wait for it . . . the tiniest shower on Earth. The "family" room or eat-in area overlooks the ranch, which is kind of cool. The spare bath has a baby-shit yellow shower/tub. There's a nice little storage area just off the back door. A nice little carport for my car, just off the back door. A huge formal living room/dining area that can be completely shut off from the rest of the house. It has a nice front porch, and a little lawn (which gets mowed happily my grandmother's dad).
The things we hashed back and forth was that I would require at least a part-time job somewhere in order to make my car payment, and insurance. I pay an arm and a leg every month, so this is my biggest concern. Not that I'd have to drive to the ranch to work there, the trailer is about 5o yards down the road. I could help out on the ranch, my grandmother would welcome the help. My grandfather's health prevents him from helping as much as he used to. They would teach me the ropes of the ranch, and also their publication. I would help write stories and possibly attempt to sell ad space and meet the people with which he has formed relationships with over the years. I would help distribute the publication all over north-east California, and they would give me the Redding route so that I could visit with my family there.
They also said that they would help with my car payment and insurance until I could find a job. You could have knocked me over with a feather. When I tried to sputter out that they shouldn't have to do that, they basically wouldn't take me arguing it at all. Jobs aren't overly easy to come by in this economy, even in Sacramento. Moving to cow-ville and it's surrounding cow-towns, jobs are even more scarce. Where they live, it's sparsely populated agriculture area - farms and cattle ranches. There are so few people in this county that all households have the same prefix. Not kidding. Redding alone has about 4. At least. And that's just one city.
At lunch one day while up there, my grandmother asked me, "Going off your gut feeling - just your gut - what does it tell you?"
"Move up here."
So, that's where I'm leaning. It scares the shit out of me. It will be a huge lifestyle change for me. But this is not something I have taken lightly. I didn't think about it for 5 minutes before I gave any kind of an answer. I thought about for a month. And to be quite honest here, this idea (or something similar) has crossed my mind off and on since I was a small child. I just never acted on it. Even as I wrote this post, I shed tears. And I'm sure they won't be the last I'll shed over this agonizing decision. I know my family and friends will support my decision, even if I decided to stay in Sacramento. All they want is for me to be happy, which is all I want for me, as well. But when I look out my sliding glass door into another person's apartment, I don't like the view. When I looked out the sliding glass door at the trailer, I saw my grandparents ranch; the horse pen right across the street. I woke up to see my horse, O'My, every morning while I was there. That alone made me smile every morning. That alone made me start crying again. (Someday I shall tell you about my horse.....)
By February, I could have a new address. And a day job. More than likely.