It's been an interesting week, convincing the state bureaucracy I exist, I'm not a felon, I will be responsible with my checking account, and I won't use the cell phone in the library. For all the rural south's relaxed ways, they take establishing residency pretty seriously.
When you go from bureau to bureau, it's gridlock. To get a checking account, you need a state driver's license. To get a license, you need a postal mailing address. To get a postal mailing address, you need a license. Sigh.
After pleading on bended knee, I got the PO box and then I could go ahead and order utilities, go to the licensing bureau and get a license (photo: not bad, time spent: under an hour) and then I could go to the bank and establish an account. The license was required for the checking account thanks to our friends in Homeland Security in these Post-911 dayz.
I bought a car: a 1987 Honda that despite its cigarette ash laden dog hair carpet is remarkably zippy, in good shape, and gas efficient. Hey, I bought gas for $1.99 the other day! I've been cruising on a half tank for a week now, and loving every fuel-efficient mile. And for a paltry $35, I found an "extreme car detailing" place that made the thing look like new. It is so clean it squeaks.
For the miles do rack up when you're in the country. The mover guy arrived Tuesday as scheduled, but as he got out of the truck, he said with hands on hips, "You are out in the middle of NOWHERE!" True enough. But the roads are in great shape and I am zipping around from here to there organizing all the details you take for granted when you have an already established life. Like, hey, all my clothes are dirty and where's the laundromat? The grocery store? The registrar of voters? Which bank do I choose? Is this pizza place any good? (It better be, there are only two restaurants in town).
My phone is not hooked up yet, which makes calling from place to place to check on the status of my utilities' installation a challenge, but the phone is key: for, you see, I will need to access the internet through dial up. No DSL or cable goes by my farm road, and won't for at least another 6 months. Maybe. I am accessing e-mail and internet at the library now, which is eminently doable, but there is a time limit, and my penchant is to be online for, like, 24 hours a day. Nothing like dial-up to make you break the habit and go outside for once.
And the weather has been sunny and in the low 80s since I got here last week. There are tomatoes, butterflies, greenery, heat, sun, and lots of birds. There's a heron that lives in the pond across from my window. He make a racket every morning, which I love. Even describing it sounds like a romantic spy movie: 'The Heron Squawks at Dawn.'
There's a small farmer's market on Saturday mornings, and I hear through the small town grapevine that there will be a guy selling fresh bread this week. Sounds like the place to be. And what could be better than sitting outside in the sun on a bright weekend morning chatting with friendly neighbors, buying fresh bread and grabbing a cup of coffee at the cafe afterwards? Mmm, welcome to the south.
Oops my time's up, but next time' the library's open, I'll be back with another snippet. Thanks for reading and enjoy the weekend.