MY MOUNTAIN HOME:
Fifteen years ago, I decided to move from Florida to the mountains in Western North Carolina. I no longer had my parents living with me and I have an older sister, with whom I am quite close who lives in Asheville.
I looked - and looked - - drove up and down mountains, along winding roads, down dirt lanes mostly in the Asheville area trying to find a place to build a home. I was still working some, and still had my home in Sun City Center, Florida, and was able to do some traveling at that time.
One day, the realtor took me to Weaverville. My biggest criteria was to avoid any long winding roads, not too many curves, not going up and down a lot, and no dirt or bumpy roads to get to the property. I had been in a serious accident, then 10 years earlier, had multiple spine surgeries and any of the curves, ups/downs and bumps could set pain in action, causing nausea and vomiting.
In Weaverville, just 8/10 mile off of the Interstate, we turned into a dirt lane that ran slightly downhill from the state road at the front of the property. A couple of hundred yards under the shade of giant oaks, pines, and unchanged land the road opened up to a cleared area for a small farmhouse, pasture land, a garden, a large barn, an outhouse and several out buildings where animals were kept and tractors stored. It had just rained, the lane was straight and a circle curved around Magnolia trees in front of the home. From the house the farm opened up more - to the east and south was cleared land and a large hay field south down to the valley bottom where there was a very small branch filled with cold fresh mountain water, the land then rose up - up to the top of the next ridge.
Only one part to the east was cleared at that time, the rest was large trees and growing trees with vegetation all around. There was 1 1/2 acre cleared at the ridgetop to the west where they had kept the cattle for grazing. You followed the lane past the outbuildings and below the ridge along the state road to the barn where they cured tobacco when it was grown, had a couple of stalls, and room to store the tractor under an upper level of the barn. The road continued to the 1 1/2 acre.
There are two graves who have "property rights" along the property line on the southern ridge - "Dooley". Mr. and Mrs. I do not think it is Tom Dooley.
What I felt when looking over the land was a strong feeling of "coming home". The lane was similar to the one on the farm of my Grandparents in Illinois. The leaves were turning colors, orange, red, yellow and the air was crisp and fresh from the fall rain. I loved it immediately. It was home.
I think the decision was first with my heart, then it just seemed to be a process of making it legal and complete. I had the property "perked" to be sure I could build my new home, but also to know that other parts of the property could be developed if I chose to later on - or not. It did, and that became my 2nd home.
I had thought I only would buy 5 or so acres to build a home on, but this was a dream that I did not even know I had. The farmhouse was not similar to my Grandparents home at all - They had a great big three story home, (someone has to tell me the architecture and structure of that home).
This home is 5 rooms, and a bathroom and a closed in porch. It was cozy, built in 1924, with a block fireplace that could no longer be used. The outhouse in the back yard was no longer necessary, and the house needed some loving attention to make it comfortable. I renovated that home - kitchen, paint, had a door put in for convenience, and found the basement was able to handle the washer and dryer with some re-arranging.
Luckily my sister and brother-in-law were experts in renovating homes and they agreed to do the things needed for a single working lady with a small dog to live comfortably. Probably the biggest problem was the vinyl and rugs glued to the floor that had to be removed prior to putting down any flooring. It was a thrill to walk into the house several months later during the renovating to see "`WELCOME HOME, SANDI" painted on the wall just for me.
Very quickly I understood that it should be the #1 house, and the one in Florida, a 2nd home.
