A Simpler Life

So, you’ve probably been asking yourself, “Where’s Ed?”

The answer isn’t a simple one, or then again, maybe it is. I’ve been in the rather hectic process of relocation.

When I retired from the Air Force, I swore that I’d never move again. I’d been regularly uprooting for more than twenty years and had found a place in Colorado Springs where I could happily finish my run without need for more turmoil. Nice town, nice people, nice weather and lots of the things I like to do such as skiing, hunting, fishing, camping, fine dining, and stirring the local political pot.

That was 1985 and the town was 165,000 people. The road past my house was two-lane and the subdivision was just built. Today, the town is over 444,000, the road is going to be expanded from four to six lanes divided and congestion is a daily fact-of-life. I haven’t skied in ten years, I’ve begun to consider staying in a three-star hotel as “camping”, and although I still hunt, I’ve found less beauty and more blemish in the local community in recent years. Yet, I wasn’t primed for what happened last June.

A long time friend had moved from southern New Mexico where he had a beautiful place nestled in the foothills below Sierra Blanca mountain in Capitan (final resting place of the legendary Smoky Bear), to a small town about 65 miles north of Dallas near the shores of Lake Texoma. We’ve known each other for 25 years—he ex-military and former cop, she a retired teacher like my wife—and we’ve visited each other regularly. It was a natural when he finished building his new home last year that we would visit shortly thereafter.

We went for four days in June. His home was beautiful. A brick rancher with air-conditioning, built to his custom specs and with a separate three-bay, three-car garage. I sized it up based on Colorado Springs costs and asked what he’d spent. Turned out to be half my estimate. The hook was set.

Next day we got into discussions of taxes, utilities, and cost of living. Shortly afterward, he mentioned a lot nearby that his builder had ready for construction. A couple of drives around the area awed by the green grass, rolling hillsides, beautiful lake and the friendly people got the idea into form. I could sell the Colorado Springs home (which, although well-maintained and regularly upgraded, would be needing a new deck, new furnace, remodeled baths, and re-sodded lawn in the next year or two) and build a dream home, bigger and better with money left over!

By the time the four days were up, we had gone from never moving again but expressing grudging admiration for my friend’s home, to commitment to make it happen for ourselves. A call to the builder the morning after we returned to Colorado confirmed the price and the lot. A call to an old AF friend who was in the real estate business to list my house for sale closed the loop. Twenty one days later, Colorado house was under contract. Less than sixty days after that fateful trip, I’m living in a furnished apartment, watching my house being built and marveling at life in the heartland of America.

Whitesboro is a small town, only about 3500 folks. But, it’s a short, uncongested drive to Sherman which has all the “big-box” shops you could ever want. And, if you’ve really got to satisfy the Jones for a traffic jam, a crowd and some urban unrest, you can always get to Dallas in about an hour.

I think I’m lovin’ it!!