Editor Column: A reminder on why we love living in Rifle
There is nothing quite like a move to remind one of several seemingly obvious things.
The first being, of course, that moving is about as enjoyable as doing taxes.
It is a running disruption that starts with packing, and not being able to find anything during the process, transitions to the physical act of lugging furniture and ends in the dizzying realization that you must now find a new home for each item stuffed away in unidentifiable boxes.
Actually, I take back my previous statement. Doing your taxes is far more enjoyable than moving — at least that is what I concluded this past weekend while Sam and I transitioned into our new home a little closer to downtown Rifle.
(I’m not sure why, but I feel the need to clarify that we did not buy the home. After all, I’m a journalist and she is a recent convert to public information from journalism … not much capital in our bank accounts.)
For people like me, and I’m assuming many others, moving is a reminder that our day-to-day work is void of physical labor. I’m struggling to recall the last time I had this many blisters on my hands.
Physical wears and tears aside, this seemingly simple act had to have been the most strenuous test of our relationship, which I admittedly did not foresee and am still trying to figure out why this was.
Given our careers, I struggle believing it was the stress of the move. The newspaper reporter profession has secured a spot in the top 10 most stressful jobs list compiled by CareerCast, a job search website, for the past couple of years (more fuel for any of my family members who are weary about my chosen career).
Yet, most of this past weekend was an exercise in restraining a level of rage bordering on homicidal. Sam was stuck giving me the “what the hell did you just do?” expression and I had to bite my tongue and share my exasperation through forced nasal breathing. On a few occasions, these methods of restraint failed and some screams were exchanged.
In sharing the story with somebody earlier this week, somebody who also had just recently moved, he informed me few relationship tests are as great as moving.
He said something on the order of: “If you can survive that, you’re doing alright.”
Now that we’re mostly settled in at our new spot just four blocks from The CT office on Third Street, I’d have to agree with that remark. Sam has taken the responsibility of organizing the place, which in turn has led to a decent amount of my belongings either being stored in a closet or tossed in the trash.
(Luckily I was able to keep my “wanted poster” depicting Patrick Swayze with a reward bounty of $1.95. I find it hilarious — Sam does not.)
One of the more delightful takeaways from this process has been Sam’s continued remarks about how much she likes Rifle and the people here. Having spent about nine months in Salida, she never felt like it was home.
However, in the month or so that she has been here in Rifle she has had nothing but good things to say.
As we were walking to the car early Friday morning after purchasing a couch at Ted’s Yard Sale — the annual event that has raised tens of thousands of dollars for cancer research over the years and concluded for the last time this past weekend — Sam repeated her happiness at living in place where people genuinely care for one another, where the people are authentically human in the most positive sense of the word.
I could not agree more.
Ryan Hoffman gave up riding his bike to work from his new home because it is simply too hot. You can reach him at 970-685-2103 or at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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