“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”
– Maya Angelou
Every winter for thirty years Cradoc and I have escaped the darkness of the Pacific Northwest by going to places like Florida, Hawaii, California, southern Spain or France, and most often Tucson, Arizona.
When we moved to Porto, Portugal two years ago we excepted the winter weather to be more temperate and calm like the weather in southern Spain. But we were wrong. The wild North wind blew off the Atlantic Ocean in what seemed like one continuous squall that rattled the windows in our unheated apartment for four months. Last winter we escaped to southern Spain and had a lovely winter. But even there the winters can be wet and cold. So this year we decided to come back to Tucson.
We booked a vacation rental, but in our hearts we felt it was time for a more permanent winter solution. We made a list of what we’d like our winter home look and feel like. After only two days in Tucson we found our dream home. Three weeks later we moved in.
Our new winter home, in the foothills of the Catalina Mountains, is a two bedroom townhouse that we purchased fully furnished with beautiful Santa Fe/southwest style furnishings – two things at the top of our wish list. After we moved in I said to Cradoc I had no idea how I would’ve been able to find the energy to furnish yet another home. “Me either,” he said.
So this furnished home is a gift born of setting a clear intention. I love everything the previous owners left for us. The furnishings, bedding, kitchenware, dishes, rugs, all feel like items I would’ve bought if I’d spent years (and a lot of money) shopping. Every decision that was made to make this a home was one I didn’t have to make.
This is only the third home we’ve owned. We sold the first two, one in 1991 and the other in 2002, after having them for only a year. Perpetual movers, renting made more sense. So this is a whole new level of commitment for us. I walk around as if in a dream, the reality of having a safe place to land whenever I want to be here still hasn’t sunk in yet.