We moved a few weeks ago. Moved out of a house that we had lived in for more than twenty-one years. The move wasn’t for the best of reasons, but it all went well. And we are now in a bigger house with, and this is very important, more garage space for my cars. It is in a nice neighborhood, and we are already meeting the folks around us. I am also very grateful that we had some very good friends who were generous of their time and helped with all the heavy lifting.
So, things are fine.
But there is one thing from the old house that I miss. In the side yard was an ash tree. We called it the Christmas Tree. We called it that because we got it from the county recycling center for turning in our regular Christmas tree for recycling after the holiday season was over. This was back when we first moved into the house, and the ash Christmas tree started off as no more than a twig.
Seriously. It was a leafless, limbless stick about 15 inches long or so, and we had to mark where it was so that we wouldn’t accidentally mow it. That was about 20 years ago. It is now a very good sized tree that is far taller than the old house. It is amazing how it grew over the years. It weathered storms and heat and drought and even, amazing for Charleston, snow. It grew into a fine and sturdy tree, and one that could not be uprooted and moved. So, at the old house it stays.
I will miss that tree, and I hope the people who buy the house will see it for the fine tree it is and let it continue to grow and shade the house. It would be a real shame if it was cut down after weathering so much.
Yup, the new house is fine, but I wish I could have somehow brought the Christmas tree along with me.