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It was a drama filled, struggle fest, and anxiety producing 3 week stay at the house of crazy in Calistoga.  I suppose it was a distinct possibility when interviewing for the rental space from 3k miles away.  A solid learning, on the limitations of connecting at a distance.

After spending a couple of nights at a motel, I finally went to pick up my belongings at the house.  My friend Isabel  (the owner of GrapeHeart Wine and Vineyards) drove me and the dogs to take care of the task.  She had heard the stories and marveled (as did I) at the amount of drama that can swirl in such a short time.  It started out easy enough.

We went into my room, packed things up and put them in her SUV.  As I was trying to make one last trip to the car, which is downhill on stone steps…hard on my knees, I had my hand full of paper grocery bags of things and some garbage.  I made one small badly timed move and accidentally knocked a small plant off the little table by the door.  Oh SHIT.  I said it out loud.  I knew this was the end of the quiet move.

The front door flew open, and out came the crazy women screaming “You did this on purpose”.  Of course I didn’t and communicated that I was very sorry.  The screaming continued as I hobbled down the stone stairs.  As I walked to the garbage cans to put trash inside, the screaming changed to “You can’t use our trash cans!  You have to take it with you!”

Fortunately Isabel was the cool head at the compound.  She put the paper bags into the car and we drove away.  She’d only heard the stories from me.  The exhibition was just a great sign off as to why I had to leave.  In spite of the crazies (a friend likened them to the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz), thinking that all the documentation they posted on my door that the law required me to leave, they were wrong.

I needed to leave for my mental health and heart health.

And thankfully, I feel so much better!