Chapter Three - Lots of Changes Going On

If finding and looking at a piece of property in Montana was like pulling teeth, conversely, buying it was a piece of cake. The owners took our first offer, we had cash, et voila! We were Montana landowners. Wow. Very cool.

I was kind of in a daze at this point. So many changes in such a short amount of time. I was still adjusting to the last several difficult things that had happened over the last two years - father died, major depression, horrible divorce, moving, remarriage, moving again - and now I had moved 2000 miles away, suddenly owned land in Montana and was about to go off grid out in the boondocks on top of a mountain. What in the world? How did I get HERE? Just two years ago I was married to my first husband, lived out in the suburbs of Houston near Sugarland, Texas, had all the modern conveniences life could offer, blissfully unaware that there were people who still heated their home with a wood stove and of the opinion that the only people who went off grid were preppers and hippies. Neither of which I was.

Plus the absolute culture shock of moving from Texas to Montana was taking a lot of getting used to. I truly loved it in Missoula. Loved the people, the slow pace, the laid back attitude, the kind of unspoken 'live and let live' policy (they say Missoula has a 'high tolerance for odd' - which it definitely does), the fact that the women here were so not girly, no traffic (thank God), the year-round breathtaking beauty, the year round plethora of things to do here, heavenly summers, the great mix of people - young, old, ranchers, farmers, college kids, blue collar, white collar, hippies, conservatives and liberals - the lack of ostentation and obvious wealth, less materialism than in Texas, Market every weekend...... seriously, I could go on and on. The people here are so nice that for the first few months, Butch and I both agreed that it felt like we were in a Twilight Zone movie. We just couldn't get over it. I felt so comfortable and at home here. I never felt like I truly fit in, in Texas. I always felt 'less than' there for some reason. Here I didn't. I felt like I could be me here for the first time in my life. I adored it all.

But. There was some culture shock. There are some major cultural differences between Texas and Montana that really surprised me and took some getting used to. First of all, the women. They are so different than the women in Texas. I was never a prissy, girly, big-haired Texas gal, but still, when I got here I stuck out like a sore thumb. My hair was still too 'big', I dressed too nice, wore too much makeup and perfume, was too loud (maybe more like too fakely exuberant?), my Southern manners were viewed as being fussy and I wasn't near laid back enough. And I was too skinny. The women here aren't skinny, little, weak-looking, frail birds. They're tough and strong and 'healthy' and confident in themselves. I liked it.  I didn't click with the other women here right away because I was just too Southern. It took a while.

The men here are great, really nice and friendly but chivalry is not only dead here, it simply doesn't exist. The usual, expected, traditional manners from Southern men are nowhere to be seen here. They don't hold open doors, they don't jump up and help a damsel in distress, they don't watch their language around the females, they don't cut their women any slack - the girls are expected to keep up and carry their share. These things shocked me at first but after a while I could see that there was simply more equality between the sexes here. The men view their women as equals and as able to do anything they can do. They didn't fuss over them or treat them like weaklings; they in a way showed them more respect than I was used to in the South. Or a different kind of respect. There was no testosterone-filled, macho bullhonkey here (hallelujah). Again, I liked it. After I got used to it. (It still shocks me though when I am struggling with something heavy right in front of a man and he doesn't automatically jump up to help me. Don't think I'll ever get over that.)

 The manners I was used to in Texas weren't the same, yet the people in Missoula seemed nicer, friendlier, more willing to help if you needed it, etc.... Manners are nice of course, but these people are real, there is no fake niceness here. They are really just nice, good people. The best I've ever met. It's all helped me to become the more real me, the me I never knew I was. I liked it. A lot.

Now, I don't mean to imply that people in Texas aren't nice. They are. I had many friends there over the years who were lovely. Texas people are wonderful too. I just think it comes down to quality of life. The quality of life seems to be better in Montana for various reasons, hence the people seem all around happier, hence nicer. Also I went from a huge city to a smallish town and that makes a difference in what people are like too. Anyhoo.

There are several other differences that took some adjustment but one of the biggest was learning that Butch and I had an accent. I mean, I knew that he had one being from East Texas - this guy has a real twang - but I being from the big, cultured, polished city of Houston, didn't think I had one. I thought I sounded like every one else here and would snicker when people would make fun of Butch's accent. Shoot, I made fun of Butch's accent all the time. It was funny! But to discover that I too sounded like I was from Texas surprised me. It didn't bother me, just surprised me. Every time I said the word "y'all" people would give me that look, "Y'all. How cute." Every time I said that word, I felt like I had yelled at the top of my lungs, "I'M FROM TEXAS! I'M NOT FROM HERE!" Talk about stick out like a sore pecker (Butch's expression, not mine). I tried for months to stop saying "y'all" but it was no good. It was too much a part of my lifelong vocabulary and would not be budged. So I accepted it. Y'all get over it.

One good thing about having an accent, especially one as pronounced as Butch's, is that most of the people here think it's hilarious. People (new friends, complete strangers) would come up and visit just to hear Butch talk. He not only has a serious twang, he has this mother load of specifically East Texan colorful expressions. Allow me to give a few colorful examples:

"I'm busier than a cat covering up poop on a marble floor."
"Full as a tick on a hound dog's back."
"Handier than a pocket on a shirt."
" Higher than a cat's back." (something is expensive)
"Just to fill a holler spot." (what food means to him)
"Well you can wish in one hand and poop in the other and see which fills up faster."
"I'd stretch a mile if I didn't have to walk back."
"I  havent hit a lick at a snake, lazy bassterd!" (when he feels like he's being lazy)
"Quiverin' like a cat poopin' peach seeds." (being nervous)
"Dark as the inside of a cow."
"Might as well, cain't dance or sing." (when I suggest something)
"Brace yorself Effie" (his idea of romantic humor)
"Actin' a fool."

These are just a few. See? Colorful!

We were oddities for sure but entertaining ones apparently! Which was kind of nice. Both of us are pure clowns and like to make people laugh so it all worked out for good, even if we didn't exactly fit in.

What with all the mid-life changes, the big move, the culture shock and trying to fit in at least a little bit, we both still had some adjusting to do. Now we had this huge parcel of raw land that needed some work, a LOT of clean up, clearing land, building a house, learning how to make everything work off the grid, developing a spring, getting a job and making a brand spankin' new life up thar on that ol' mountain. And maybe hardest of all, learning how to work together, being relatively newly married..... we had our work cut out for us.