So yesterday I was talking about moving. To Bath. Bath, North Carolina.
Sorry I had to leave so dramatically. We arrived so I had other things to focus on.
But as all journals must be in the correct order, I’ll continue where I left. I happened to be describing our journey to get here.
After many long, long, long hours we arrived, in North Carolina that is. We were not yet to Bath.
It was rather wet. And swampy. And humid. And it was so, totally not the crisp, clear breezes of Washington. My hair began to frizz, one, annoying strand at a time, laughing every moment at me.
Great! Just when I figure out how to get my hair to cooperate with Washington’s weather we go and move. I give up!
We passed miles of trees, green grass, and plenty of lakes. (Not to mention the ditches clear full of water. Brown water. Stagnant water. Putrid water.) We passed towns and houses, at least I think they were houses. Maybe they were shacks, or worse.
I have begun to believe the whole ‘hillbilly’ thing especially after the Appalachian Mountains!
“Well,” I sighed as I plastered my face to the cool, car window, (it was the only thing not hot.) “I guess I’m doomed to be a hillbilly princess!”
“Well I’m not!” My five year old sister, Era, exclaimed. She sat in her car seat in the seat behind me. “I am the princess of Seattle! No matter where I go!”
“Who cares where we are as long as there’s football?” My crazy brother pipped up. He was 14 and three years younger than me. I eyed them both skeptically.
“How do you propose to play football in this swamp?” I wondered dubiously.
“It’s called toughness!” He raise his eyebrows at me and tried to flex a muscle.
“Whatever you think.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to the window.
They are both crazy. But that’s why siblings are so fun!
“Well!” Dad announced as we past another rundown, a hundred year old shack, “Every now and then we pass a trailer house back in the woods that looks real prosperous!”
“Yah!” I agreed sarcastically as Mom laughed.
“What do people out here make a living on?” Remington, my brother, wondered.
“Probably raising mosquitoes.” I noted.
“No, I think they raise fish in the ditches and sell them to Walmart.” Dad put in. “What else could they do?”
“Seriously!?” Era was shocked. “That’s where they raise fish?!” She gawked at the old, water holes. “Are we gonna do that?”
“Yep.” Remington announced. “And you have to catch them!”
“Dad!” Era cried, “Will I really!?”
“No, sweety!” Dad proclaimed, “I was just being silly.”
“Besides.” I noted, “If Remington really was tough, he’d catch all the fish for us!”
He glared at me and I just giggled. Brothers are most fun when you tease the back!
Mom chuckled, “They could be science teachers? Or they could restore old artifacts.”
Dad laughed, “Yah, I guess that’s what we’ll be doing!”
Thank goodness I’m homeschooling my last two years of high school!
Mom and Dad are teachers and will both be teaching at the high school. Before we moved they taught at college but now, well, they would’ve been teaching at my new school, but I choose homeschooling!
When I heard they’d be teaching my classes, I was like, ‘No thanks!’ They’re awesome parents but I rather not have them be my, and 19 of my peers’, teachers.
But, back to the trip, soon after this bit of conversing we arrived!
Surrounded by mosquito infested waters, prosperous fishing farms, and a lot of frizzy hair we entered Bath.
Not a lot of places say that on their front sign!
I could just see the headlines, “Washington Family Moves to The Historic Bath! What Will Become of Them!?”
And that was just the beginning!
We drove down main street and searched out the way to our new house. Old buildings lined the streets making Mom’s eyes light up. And several boys playing football in an empty lot made Remington’s eyes light up.
Era happened to see a little girl in a tiara just like hers. The only reason we saw that girl was because she was was racing a dog (and winning) across the street. She waved at us as she drug her dachshund up onto the sidewalk and then dashed off, with Era watching her till she was out of sight!
And I saw several good reasons for my eyes to light up like a a pizza place, the dock, beautiful old buildings, trees and lots of dogs!
I rolled down my window and took in the salt smell, wild sounds, and total aurora of the place. And I was going to describe the town with three words: sea-ish, interesting, and adorable, but when Dad almost hit a cheetah I had to add ‘crazy’ to the list of words defining the town on my life.
He almost hit a cheetah! We are in America, in the swamp, by the sea! What is a cheetah doing here!?
But then again the town was named Bath, it was one of the oldest around, and, seriously, the population was miniature! I should’ve known they’d allow exotic, jungle animals free range!
“What?!” I exclaimed as we watched the giant, cheetah cat and it’s apparent owner run off, “Is this place going to be like?”
“I don’t know.” Mom whispered back.
And she was right! We hadn’t a clue!