Moving Can Be Scary!

Apparently moving out of California is scary, everyone says so. Granny Hat appreciates all the advice, she really does. She didn’t realize there were such long winters up at 48 degrees, 22′, 47″ N Latitude near the Canadian border.

• 

• 

She had no idea Grizzly Bears roamed daily right through people’s patios or that deer ate plants. And it was eye-opening to consider that there might not be a Whole Foods or a Trader Joes anywhere near Granny’s new digs.

It really should give anyone pause to imagine being surrounded by red-necks and Cowboys who have worn buffalo plaid since before it became “a thing”. And then there’s the whole pickup truck with mounted shotguns and antlers on the grill culture. When you hail from the completely normal land of year round flip flops, bumper to bumper traffic, homeless camps, high taxes and Hollywood, it is daunting to find yourself moving to wide open spaces, four seasons and close contact with all things independent and wild. Super scary!

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Good thing the Montana Mountain people are just as eager to give advice as the California Hippies. Granny Hat looks forward to listening to all they have to share about hiking in Grizzly country, planting a garden in Zone 5a, living in a place where it might rain, sleet and be sunshiny all in one day! People are people wherever you roam. Granny’s favorite types are fiercely independent and loyal to their home town no matter what state it is in. These are good traits. 

Up in Big Sky Country, there is plenty of air and open sky for everyone but the locals are begrudging about sharing land and water with encroaching immigrants from the crazy, crowded states. Granny Hat has heard plenty about this and she gets it. But it can be scary to fit in where you might not feel welcomed at first. You know, that new- kid-on-the-block, alien feeling when you walk in a room full of strangers and they know, they immediately know you are NOT one of them. They can tell by the cut of your clothes, your tan, the sustainable vegan Kombucha in your fist, the body language, YOUR LICENSE PLATE! The best advice Granny Hat and dad have heard about moving to a new state is to make the first order of business a trip to the DMV or what they call “MVD” in MT. Get a new license plate, leave some dirt on your bumper, wear buffalo plaid, eat elk, fit in! And don’t bother slapping a Montana Treasure State license plate on your Nissan Leaf. They will see you coming!

Now for the scariest moving thing of all!  Granny Hat, like any other housekeeper, always likes to put her best foot forward, look respectable in public and keep the front porch swept. Wouldn’t want to air dirty laundry for all to see. A friend once pointed out that most of the dust in a house is nothing more than exfoliated skin cells. Gross! Granny has felt utter shame this past week as she pulled furniture and appliances away from walls and cleared out under the beds. Piles of dust (38 years of dead skin cells), dead spiders, marbles, pencils, rubber bands and yes even some evidence of nocturnal rodent visitations freaked Granny out. (Walt Disney, she loves you, but mice are NOT cute! They scare Granny more than Grizzlies.) And she has an excellent excuse for the dust; she lives in windy San Juan Valley, HER dust is mostly dirt from the row crops across the street, not skin cells, no sir!

Yes, moving exposes everything; deep cleaning reveals many truths. Granny Hat feels very vulnerable, pulling up roots and hoping to bloom somewhere new and exciting far, far away. She is facing her fears while she dreams and plans. That’s what life is all about anyway, isn’t it?

The Lord is the one who goes ahead of you; He will be with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” Deuteronomy 31:8