I find myself rather pensive today. Not sad, really but contemplative about the possibility of moving away from this place. I've lived here in these old, old hills for longer than I've lived anywhere in my life and I am quite attached. But there comes a time when facts must be faced and that time is closing in.

I moved here in the early 1970's from farther up the eastern seaboard after making the move across country from my origins out west. I took one look at these mountains and it was love at first sight. The Blue Ridge Mountains. Nothing like the huge towering edifices where I grew up [the Rockies], these rounded and forested mounds are far older [and interestingly, part of the same range that are found in Scotland__where many of my ancestors hail from].

But enough of that.  The reason I'm thinking of moving? Well, I live on the side of a mountain. This is not level ground. No, you say. I nod. When you have no balance, it makes it tricky to navigate. And the house is a two-story. I'm not too good on the stairs these days, either. I know, I sound like a walking disaster. There's some truth to that. Then there's the opinion of one of my dr's, who asked why in the bloody hell [her words] I was still living in allergyville when I should be living at the ocean where the pollen levels are drastically reduced, etc...I won't treat you to that entire rant... she can go on.

And then there's my son. He moved home several years ago to help me out. It was a kind and considerate thing for him to do.  And I appreciated it more than I can express__but__he needs a life. And he's never going to have one as long as all he does is work, go to school, commute and in what minimal spare time he has, take care of an aging, grumpy mother.

I need to move.

Now I just need to figure out how to go about making that happen in as beneficial a way for everyone as possible. I've got a few thoughts. It's going to take more but I'm working on it.