Yesterday, Husband and I took the little girls to Saxapahaw, a very tiny town on the Haw River that's about a 20 minute drive from our house in Chapel Hill. It was a field trip of sorts to check out a renovated mill building that Husband and his business partner are considering for the site of Spoonflower. (I mentioned his new business venture awhile back. It's really cooking along all of a sudden.)
Saxapahaw was empty, there being no downtown to speak of and it being the hour when most God-fearing Southerners are in church. We're not particularly God-fearing, so we took a stroll down to the river. I sat at a picnic table and nursed Sweet P while Husband took Bean further down to chuck rocks in the water.
As Sweet P and I sat there together I realized I couldn't hear a thing but the water rushing by, birds in the trees, and the distant voices of Husband and Bean playing. I just sat there nursing and quiet.
When Sweet P had a nice bellyful, we walked down to where Husband and Bean were and I said to Husband, "I know how we can get the first round of funding for Spoonflower. Let's sell our house in Chapel Hill and use part of the equity to put a down payment on a house here and the rest to get Spoonflower going."
We talked about this a little, a new mortgage, business loans, venture capitalists being involved, etc. The one thing neither of us questioned was the trade-off between good Chapel Hill schools for the girls and a life with abundant time spent outdoors in the woods and fields and by a river for them.
Would I really trade our townie Chapel Hill life with its organic grocery stores and top-rated schools and nearby piano lessons, play groups, soccer leagues, and public access pools for a move to some land and an old house out in the country?
You know, I think I would.