Last weekend, amid history being made and discovering new sisterfriends, we also took a trip up to what we got word will be our new hometown. Placerville is just East of Sacramento, a short twenty minutes away from the edge of the city, resting at the foot of the Sierra mountains. It’s an old gold mining town along the southern route to Tahoe and it’s covered in trees and streams and history.
While we’ve been waiting for Bear to start this new job and find out where our final destination was, we’ve heard all kinds of rumors – maybe Fresno, maybe Davis, maybe Ukiah – and when some of them didn’t pan out I was relieved, and when others didn’t pan out I was heartbroken. But it all worked out for the best because I cannot imagine a place I would rather set down roots than what I found this weekend.
Bear’s employers stressed that he couldn’t commute. He HAD to live in Placerville. Apparently in Gold Country there are townies, and there are tourists. And they need us to be townies. I could not be more happy to comply. I’ve been looking for a hometown my whole life. We were told we need to really become a part of the community – go to Chamber of Commerce events, enter things in the fair, go to the Farmer’s Markets – it’s like I’m being thrown in the briar patch. Oh all right, if you insist. Sheesh. Give me everything I’ve ever wanted, why don’t you.
We strolled down Main Street and played tourist, until we earn our Townie status, and it’s like this place was custom made in my dreams. Wonderful restaurants, historical markers, antique shops. There was a store where a couple reclaimed old furniture and painted it in bold creamy colors, a children’s clothing store where a gal with a nose ring sewed the clothes she then hung on the rack for sale, an independent bead store, gourmet food shops selling special cheeses and locally made mustard, and an independent yarn store. And then. Not only was it an independent needlepoint store, it was a NOT FOR PROFIT CO-OP needlepoint store. I got to chatting with the ladies inside and they told me all about their Sit ‘n Stitch days, and the locals only secret for where to park all day without paying.
When we were up this weekend, we stopped at this place – a restaurant and bakery in a converted victorian house – ate homemade pie and bread on the closed in porch, and made instant friends with our dining neighbors. One table couldn’t get enough of Atticus, even giving him a hug on their way out the door, and at the other table…Oh the other table. A lady came in with a gorgeous black lab named Gatsby. There were dogs everywhere we went in Placerville, including the restaurants, and Gatsby and Atticus fell in love. Gatsby’s owner and I laughed over our literary nerd-dom and Atti refused to eat his lunch so he could wheel his chair over and drape himself across Gatsby’s side for a big hug.
This is the place where we’re going to make all our dreams come true. And I have some big dreams.