Life in Small Town, USA

I am adjusting to the slower pace of this place. It's very different from the cities in which I have lived for all of my life - till now. I smile patiently when I choose the slowest line in the market. (Frankly, it's more like winning the checkout line lottery when you get someone who's fast and efficient). I tell the clerk that it's not a problem that the woman in front of me needs to use two different credit cards to buy her groceries and he doesn't know how to get the cash register to, well, register... I've nowhere else to be. And for the first time since childhood, it is true. I don't have anywhere else to be.

There are no high-end stores here. The local mall is a depressing place where even the Gottschalks store couldn't stay in business. It's dotted with closed storefronts, one next to another, failed entrepreneurial attempts, killed by the economic disaster. Few people go there to shop. There's a "support the local shopkeeper" mentality here, but the local shops are mostly tired places with low quality items of dubious taste. When I mention this to the locals (and I don't really care because, well, I don't buy anything that I can't eat), they say that this is just the way they like it. Thank heaven for Costco... and the internet...

But it can be a bit frustrating. Right now, I'm looking for a cute change purse for one of my little ones and I can either get fake plastic in various shades of yellow, pink or orange, at Target or nubby hemp from Nepal or Guatemala. Period. Seriously. In the Bay Area I had everything from Ferragamo leather to handmade silk, to cute, locally-handmade-by-artisans, to lower priced, but good looking items at discounters from which to make my selection.

I know, look on the bright side. I won't have to spend so much time searching for the perfect change purse. And this is not a bad thing.

Ballet Performance for Fuschias!

Today was the spring performance for my six-year old's ballet class. Her group are fuschias and they have beautiful, colorful flower costumes. I'm glad I took my pictures yesterday during rehearsal so that I could sit back and just enjoy the program. It is as if I am getting a second chance to enjoy my children. When my children were little, I went to the performances, took pictures and did all the "mommy" things, but my mind was elsewhere much of the time. Mostly on work. I was very proud of my kids - after all, they were pretty terrific. Now, I am focused on my grandchildren. I'm present, not worrying about the next deal or the next problem.

I find that I don't get angry very much now. Nothing seems worth it. Every moment is precious to me now. Please, you moms and dads, cherish your little children. Trust me. Work is just not that important. It is not your identity. Sometimes it seemed as though I didn't have any time for myself. In fact, I didn't. But I could have made time. I could have focused less on my career and more on my family, including my husband. I never made time for fun. Fun was frivolous. How stupid was I! One time I remember going to the home of friends and finding two squirt guns in the bathroom. It never occured to me that they belonged to the parents, not the kids. They knew how to have fun. They had fun with each other. They didn't have to be so serious all the time. There weren't any squirt guns in my bathroom...


So, you young parents, remember this: your spouse/partner and children are the most important part of your life - they ARE your life. Not work, not friends, not clothes, not money. Your family. So put everything else second. When you are sixty and your kids are grown and gone, you won't be sitting around slapping yourself on the back for that deal you did twenty years ago. And you don't want to be slapping yourself in the forehead for being such a dunce. You'll want to be sitting around remembering the great times you had with your family, making memories.


Really. Trust me on this one...

More Settling In...

I am housesitting for a lovely couple with three cats. Their home is beautifully furnished with an Asian theme. Very calming. The backyard is filled with flowers, bamboo and Japanese maples. It is obviously the home of a couple who enjoy their life. I am trying to learn from their example.

I have just arrived, unpacked and started the wash. Amazing how good it feels to have clean clothes and a dresser in which to put them...It will be nice to be in one place for six weeks now. I've found a lovely house to rent starting in mid-July and am looking forward to getting my stuff out of storage. I am living with very few things right now and frankly, other than my art materials, I'm not missing very much. It's pretty amazing how little one needs to be comfortable. For me, the most important things are clean clothes and a shower each day. Other than those, I'm pretty flexible...I will however, have to get a microwave and some decent cable TV when I move into my little home...

Settling In?

So, I am at the local hotel until my next temporary housing situation begins. I'm OK, except that the kids have had a cold/cough for weeks and, since I have no immunity to their cooties, I also have a cold and a cough. The boys cough in a well-orchestrated "cough cantata" and provided the "musical" backdrop for the latest school function last night.



The local TV stations keep announcing "severe thunderstorms with hail the size of golf balls" nearby, but so far I have only seen some minor rain and lots of clouds and fog.



I cannot wait until I am settled into a permanent house and have my stuff out of storage. I want to join the local ceramic studio, the gym and look for a place to teach art to children. But, for the moment, I'm nursing my cold.

The Long Road "Home"

Got on the road at 4:30AM, and it took over twelve hours this time. I wasn't in my usual rush, hurrying to see my kids, trying to cram every single second into my visit, because this time I'm going to be living near them. I won't have to jump in the car in the darkness before dawn and drive back home, to be ready to go to work on Monday. I'm an old hand at this road trip stuff. Even bring my own T.P. for the cruddy "rest stops" in Oregon. I glide by the women standing, waiting for a bathroom while I slip into to the one without T.P., saying, "I brought my own".


Conscious of the significance of this trip, I waved goodbye to Washington as I crossed the border into Oregon and then again as I left Oregon to enter California and swear that I am not carrying fruits or vegetables into the state. I used the time in the car to think. I also listened to music instead of all talk radio, trying to get in a more relaxed mood for my next life chapter.



But one of the stories I heard on NPR was "Recession Diary: The Long And Winding Road Home" about a young family who moved from Maine to Los Angeles and back to Maine in little more than a year, as a result of the economic crisis and resultant job losses. Mom, Dad, infant and big dog traveled across the country, stopping frequently to feed baby, walk dog, etc. It took ten days, but when they finally got to Maine, they had dinner at her Dad's house, where he told them "It's so wonderful to see you here. I mean, I know what you've been through and just how difficult everything's been, but what an incredible upside to all these trials, having you home. Whatever comes next, this is the best."



Then they drove on to her Mom's house, where they would live. "It was late, so we tiptoed in to find a room all set up for us. It was more lovely than either of us could have anticipated. She had put up all kinds of pictures of me as a kid, as a little girl, and the bed was really beautifully made."

(What a lovely, thoughtful person. Knowing how difficult things were for her daughter, she went out of her way to make them feel welcome and wanted.)

Her Mom said, "So for me, it's a treasure and, um, it makes me think about the old way of doing things, when there were multigenerational families, and for the small amount of time that we have together, it makes me realize the richness of that."

Of course, life isn't all soft, gauzy photos and sweet music and their life is still chaotic and basically on hold.

You may want to hear the whole story by Caitlin Shetterly:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=104131481

As I listened, I began to cry. Her family viewed them as a "treasure".

I remember having to make a similar trip many years ago. My husband, my cat Bootsie, and I packed up our Toyota Corona in 1970, after losing our jobs, and moved everyting we owned back to New York to my parents' basement. We lived there, sleeping in my childhood bedroom, for three months until finally we found new jobs and moved to our own apartment.

One of the reasons I wanted to move "home" to New York was to be near to my parents. I knew that I might not have them in my life for long and I wanted to be with them. I had gone off to college at age 15, then gotten married at 17, so I had been away from home, living in California for several years. Well, my Mom left us in 1984, but at least she had eight years with her grandchildren and me. My Dad's 95 and still living in that same house. My Mom and Dad used to drive from the Bronx up to our home in Connecticut almost every Sunday where Dad would play with the kids in the pool, teaching them to dive and swim and horsing around with them. Certainly my childrens' lives were richer for having this time with their grandparents.

I'm glad I went home. My life was richer for their presence.

Getting Older - Time's Running Out - Gotta Keep on Movin'

I am beginning to feel my age this past year. I don't know if it's because I have been depressed (probably) or because I'm actually getting older (I'm kind of in denial). But lately I have become aware of time passing.

My uncle died this past week after a stroke. His sister, my aunt, is also failing. She's 92, he was 88. I'm on the verge of becoming the matriarch of my family. Well, I'm just not ready to be a matriarch, but my parents' generation is almost gone now. I'm so very conscious of time passing quickly now - so quickly. Realizing that there are things that I am not going to be able to accomplish now. After all, how many more years do I have where I'm not drooling on myself? I'm a little stiffer when I move now, a little slower, I don't think I'm as smart as I used to be. I always used to joke that I had enough brain cells that even when I lost some, I'd still be smarter than most. Well, that may still be true, but perhaps it's just that the gene pool is getting more shallow...

So, I went for my annual physical this past week. I'm fine, a little too fat, need to eat fewer beige food, more green foods, but in pretty good shape. Blood pressure, despite the incredible stress, is normal. 120/80. I need to exercise more to get the HDL up, Triglycerides down. My doctor, who is about the same age as I am, walked in the room and began the conversation by talking about how he is dealing with getting older, voicing all of my concerns as if he had been evesdropping on my brain. We talked about my impending move, my very hard, "man's world" career, my survival instincts. Then we talked about my grandchildren, my art, being more spiritual, softer now. He suggested that I might want to take this opportunity to focus on my softer side. Develop my art, start my children's art school, be a little less analytical, more spiritual. My kids will not believe I'm saying this. they think I'm the strong one. The one who takes care of everyone, everything. But I think I've been changing, slowly, perhaps imperceptibly to some, but not to me.

I'm not quite ready for what I call the "woo woo" stuff, but perhaps I can be a little more content, a little happier with myself and my life.

I have been thinking about that conversation with my doctor (I'll miss him, he's a smart, knowledgeable person) for a few days now. This move can be the perfect opportunity to finally explore those things that I love, but have put on hold.

Well, there's no more time to put things on hold!

See you all soon!

On the Eve of a New Beginning, (I Hope!)

I'm sitting here, my last day in Washington, my stuff has been picked up by the movers and I'm once again spending the night on my Aerobed, finishing the last of whatever random food is still in the refrigerator, hoping that everything will fit in the Honda.

I'm not sure how I feel about this yet. I have been wanting to live near my grandchildren for seven years now. I'm probably moving to a place that is so very different from every other place I have lived. Well, I don't even have an address. I'm subletting for a couple of weeks, then a hotel for a week, then housesitting for six weeks. That gets me into mid July. Perhaps by then I will know what I want to do. Or not.

My stuff is going into storage. I have owned my own home since age 22. That's a long time ago. I never needed a storage unit before. I always had a place to go. A place of my own. I'm really a homebody. I don't want to travel much, I like to eat at home, read, watch TV. I enjoy my friends and family, but I'd make a lousy roommate. I need down time now.

It's a beautiful, sunny day today, unlike many of the days I have spent here in the Pacific Northwest. When it's sunny, it's beautiful. But much of the time it is just gray. Dull, gray, overcast, no sun. Not for me.

So, I'll get to see my littles regularly. I'm hoping to achieve a balance: I don't want to wear out my welcome, but I do want to help out as much as I can.

I have also been thinking of teaching art classes for kids. I'd like to show kids how to use all of the different media: clay, paint, collage, sculpture, printing.
Kids are creative and if they get comfortable with art when they are young, they will be competent, imaginative kids as they grow up.

So many times people ask me how I learned to draw or paint or do ceramics. I tell them that I was very fortunate to have a mother who was undaunted by any media. She carved birds from soap, she painted, she sewed. She would try anything. And so, I tried everything. I tell them that I learned to do these things by simply doing them. So, I want to pass on my love of art to children while they are still open to everything, while they are curious, adventurous and without the self-restrictions adults have.