Back at Bean Street

Finally, I’m back at the Bean Street Cafe. Bad weather stopped my search for a new home for the last two Saturdays. Instead of spending my Sunday mornings relaxing and reflecting, I’ve had to look for a new place to live. My one-month lease is up on Tuesday. I found the last place over the Internet and was reluctant to commit to more than a month. It turned out to be quite sweet but since it comes completely furnished, someone else booked it right after me. Unfortunately, lots of Yankees, Snowbirds and West Coasters are pilling in behind me. Obviously I forgot to shut the door!

I moved last night and today. I am amazed that I came here with one carload, but yet it took three carloads this time! I would like to make that my official Moving Gauge. Only own as much as you can move and organize in a day. The goal here is to own my stuff, not let my stuff own me. A girl needs to stay flexible and unencumbered.

I doubled my commute time to work in the move. I went from being 3 minutes away (by car – its really been too cold to ride my bike) to about 6 minutes away. The new place has a one-car garage and basement storage space underneath the Chalet so my bike stays out of the rain. Not that I will be riding it anytime soon. Please note I said “mountain,” not flat streets or roads. If I’m here in the spring, I’ll give it a go then.

Last night as I was driving down to the mall (and that’s an experience I really haven’t had too much of for the past 11 years. I assure you, I haven’t missed it!) On the left side of my car was an embankment with trees, leaves, and rocks. On the right side, looking down, are the lights of Tunnel Hill Road – grocery, gas, and shopping galore. Metaphorically, that’s Asheville. Residents enjoy closeness with Mother Earth along with a contemporary lifestyle. I am happy to think that as I drive to work down the other side of the mountain tomorrow morning, I’ll see the city buildings peeking out from a blanket of cool morning mist.

Some of you have been living this way for a while, perhaps all your life. Some of my musings are normal life for you, but for me, after 11 years in The City, this is amazing stuff. I am experiencing this through the eyes of a New Yorker, because I feel I was one. And some part of me will always be. Although a southern girl by birth, I acquired New York City “bragging rights” as my friend Brad Davis puts it. I’m glad I did it. And when I start thinking of Manhattan too fondly, I just remember how lonely and trapped I felt there toward the end. I get happy again very fast.

Perhaps I really notice the mountains and trees because I have something quite different to compare it to than some of you. Others may share with my experience, but interpreted it differently. I remember the drives to various places around NYC and being stuck sometimes for on I-95 or the Cross Bronx and seeing the harsh concrete and littered landscape. In every direction lay railway tracks, train cars, rusty industrial equipment, and decrepit old buildings, often with their windows smashed. Houses are sometimes squeezed into the concrete and steel topography. Or perhaps I would see nicer buildings, but always, of human construction using bricks, steel and concrete. The only natural thing I might see would be the Harlem River or the Sputen Duyvil. There too, man has left his dirty fingerprint in the form of rusty piers.

That of course doesn’t deny the beauty of Manhattan with the Hudson River Parkway and the amazing buildings. But even in my romance days with The City, I often bemoaned the fact that I could go for days or even weeks without my feet actually touching the real earth beneath me. I haven’t taken my shoes off in Asheville yet, but as soon as it gets warm enough, I assure you that I will.