How to explain?  Why would a middle-aged couple who never lived in the country consider buying a 25 acre wooded property in the southern end of a county where the roads are winding and hilly, the only public utility is the electrical service and the house is small and dumpy.  Why leave the comfort of the suburbs where the road is paved, the mail and newspaper are delivered at the end of the driveway, and the grocery store is 8 minutes away?

The old house is sturdy, decently appointed, has a delightful backyard and holds many good memories.  The old county is home, where I grew up and my kids did too.  I know the businesses, and the backroads, and where to pick strawberries.  I have relationships – family, friends, doctors, dentists, and vendors at market here, at the old home.  There’s church, there’s my homeschool community where I am welcome even though I am retired.  There’s my neighbor whom I will miss being able to text and ask if she can come chat over the fence.

The path not taken kept beckoning.  Can we do it?  Can we push ourselves just a bit, or are we already so past our prime that even this small bit of nature will overwhelm us?  In search of what we do not know about ourselves and each other; in search of more than we know. Pequea Pilgrims.

They say a bad day here …

is a good day anywhere else.  I don’t who said that, but I would imagine it’s been said quite often about many places.  And it’s not hard to feel that way about Pequea when you are sitting in the sunroom gazing at the river through the trees.

Might be a little harder to say when you’ve fallen in a foot of water, decomposing leaves and tadpoles at the bottom of a pool that’s not submitting to our attempts to empty it.  Might be, but really wasn’t so hard to say.  I hopped in there because I was so gung-ho about moving along the project, and I wanted to be in on the action.  Well, fat, middle-aged women should probably be more careful about what kind of action they seek, but given that I’m not so careful, there I was, wet, slimy, and part of the action.

At the end of the day, the pool still remained unempty.  I, however, had the joy of doing something rash, and interesting, and feel blessed to not pay a higher price than a little extra laundry for the joy of an interesting day in Pequea.