Looking back on 2008

2008 has been a year of change for us. After more than eleven years in San Diego, we moved back across the country this spring.

With Holly’s travel cage belted in the back seat, we set out on a 3,000-mile journey from the Pacific to the Atlantic.

We arrived in Virginia Beach at the bloom of a brilliant spring. Summer reacquainted us with thunderstorms, mosquitoes, fireflies, and warm summer nights. Throughout our time in Virginia Beach, we took several road trips (usually with Holly) to see family, friends, and explore southern towns.

At the end of the summer, we moved to Washington DC, arriving just as the leaves were beginning to change colors. Our neighborhood was designed with many trees, so we were surrounded in autumn color and, eventually, in piles of crunchy leaves.

We’re enjoying the area; there are miles of wooded walking paths, a small lake nearby, and a village center offering everything from a pharmacy and a Moroccan restaurant to a grocery with shelves of Asian chili pastes and Mexican cheeses. To top it all off, a twenty-minute drive gets us into the nation’s capitol. There is so much to explore in 2009!

Here’s a song that looks back on 2008 (to the tune of the Twelve Days of Christmas)…

On the Twelfth day of Christmas, I made this song for you…
Twelve short months passing,
Eleven years of So Cal,
Ten months of East Coast,
Nine days of driving,
Eight family visits,
Seven months of beaches,
Six neighborhood dogs,
Five miles of sand*,
Four new addresses,
Three different homes,
Two vagabonds,
And a green parrot in the back seat

*We ran a five-mile foot race through a course full of obstacles, mud, and deep, soft sand. You can see it’s not your average course and participants get pretty filthy by the end, but it was fun and we took a refreshing dip in the Chesapeake (shoes and all) afterwards.

Lake Anne

We just moved to a home near a place called Lake Anne. We knew there was a lake nearby, when we rented the house, because we could see the blue blob on the map. Our expectations ended at water, and maybe a place to launch a canoe.

Our first evening in town (the Tuesday of my birthday), before we even picked up the keys to our new place, we drove by the house to see it again, and then we asked our Garmin for "food". Garmin lead us to a little place the head of Lake Anne. This little place turned out to be an entire village (restaurants, independent groceries, a tax guy, a florist, a pharmacist, some clothing and accessory shops, a chocolatier...even an art gallery).

We were surprised by all the good stuff inside this little plaza and wanted to explore, but Holly was waiting in the car and we were tired, so we stopped at the first restaurant and ordered some food. Before we were finished dining, a storm rolled in: thunder (my favorite), lightning (Holly’s favorite), and rain. Rain like I haven’t seen in years. But we couldn’t wait; we had to get to our terrified parrot.

There was no chivalrous alternative; we both had to make the torrential run. By the corner of the building, Chris’ sneakers were well ahead of my flip flops. By the time I sunk into the first puddle, I realized that I was as wet as a person could ever be and I still had a parking lot to go, so I slowed to a shuffle. By the time I got near the car, the rain was pouring off my eyelashes with such force I couldn’t see the car, ran several feet beyond it, and had to circle back (Chris thought this was worthy of much teasing).

All was redeemed by the relief on Holly’s face when we were both safely in the car. (OK, for all you non-bird people, think: dog with ears pinned back, tail between his legs…turning into a dog with tail wagging and body wiggling. Cat-lovers: sorry, try to relate to a dog for this one.)

We moved in on a Wednesday and made our second trip to the village center that Saturday to “check out” the farmer’s market. The weather was storybook-perfect, and the farmer’s market was more than we expected. We came home with 6 bags full of veggies, meats, apple cider, and fresh goat cheese. Yes, we had just moved and didn’t have any food in the house, but even so, it all looked so good we couldn’t pass it up for grocery store stuff! 

The farmer's market ends in two weeks, and we're not sure what winter will bring (except I hear there will be Santa-on-a-Barge in early December), but Lake Anne is a little gem we didn’t know we were getting when we fell in love with our rental and it makes us even happier with our new home.

Here are some visuals to help you out...

It isn't much to look at in this direction (it's 30 years old), but look over here...

Moving

Lessons Learned...

...About Moving

• If you don't want the movers to load it, hide it at the neighbors.
  We ended up unpacking several things that belonged to the rental house in Virginia Beach. Luckily, our former landlord was cool about it.
• If you want the food in your refrigerator, it's best to load it in the car when you leave.
  We left all our condiments, olives, cheeses (even my prized Norwegian goat cheese), Chris' peppers, Mom's zucchini relish etc behind. Hopefully our former landlord found something he could use.

...About New Houses

• Just because you can open a door from the inside doesn't mean it's UNLOCKED!
  We learned this lesson two hours, a locksmith fee, and a new doorknob later.
• Just because there's a light switch, don't expect it to control a light OR a plug outlet.
  There are a few I just can't figure out. I think we're turning on the neighbor's disposal.
• Gravity makes moving things upstairs really hard.
  Moving into a 3-level home isn't easy, especially when it comes to moving stuff to level 3.

The Firefly

The first firefly of summer drifted through the twilight this evening.

It brought with it a flood of memories. Memories of warm evenings in my grandmother endless back yard, chasing little yellow flashes until it was so dark that their light was nearly all I could see.

I stood in the silence of my front porch tonight, watching this lone firefly dance through the air. It seemed to whisper “summer is here”, and then vanish into the neighbor’s yard.

All creatures have a purpose. The firefly’s must be to make us smile.

(None of these photos are mine. The last one, the one in the golden light, can be credited to National Geographic, but the others were just found on Google.)

Rabbits

We have rabbits.

I had rabbits when I was a kid, but they were of the soft, colorful, caged variety. These are scratched-up, clover-eating brown rabbits that live under the shed in our backyard.

"Peter" is the name for whichever rabbit is in the backyard at the time. It's not original, but it works. Peter is also the name of a specific rabbit. The one with an earring. There is also a smaller rabbit with a bum back foot, and a blemish-free, clean-looking rabbit. I call them Paul or Mary, depending on my mood.

Doesn't that look like an earring?!

We also have neighborhood ducks. The neighborhood ducks are just normal-looking, green-headed Mallards, but the lady across the street has a duck I've never seen before.

I don't know what our neighbor calls her duck, but we call it Jimi...as in Jimi Hendrix (maybe in his graying years).

That's the fauna update for my neighborhood, at least until the next visit to my next door neighbor's wildlife park, I mean house!

The Pink Mouse

Our San Diego house had a little room we called "Hell's Kitchen", partially because it was lower than the rest of the kitchen, but mostly because its journey from an ill-designed laundry room to a proud kitchen space caused us many headaches. (It all began when the gas line leaked. Then the electrical shorted out. We tore out the walls, rerouted gas, electricity, and water; re-sheetrocked, textured, painted; and then tried to find cabinets that would match the rest of the kitchen. Eventually, it was transformed from a weird laundry space to our much-loved bar/butler's pantry.)

Before Hell's Kitchen was a laundry room, it was the garage, so the foundation and walls weren't clean and finished. Near the doorway, the stub wall foundation wasn't square, so where the drywall met the foundation wall, there was a bit of a hole. The rest of the space seemed clean and finished, and then there was this dark cob-webby hole with a little chicken wire visible. I always thought it was a bit of an eye sore, so a couple of Thanksgivings ago, my mom suggested that I put something in there, like a mouse, to make fun of it. We'd had a few glasses of wine, and it was good for a few laughs.

For Christmas that year, we received a funny-looking little pink mouse with a gold bell at the end of its tail and a card that read "maybe it was one too many glasses of wine, but it sounded like a good idea at the time". We thought, for sure, she'd lost it. Maybe she found this little pink rope mouse one evening after one too many glasses of wine or something. I mean, how else could you explain a pink mouse and that note? After a few days of laughing at this mouse, I got up the courage to ask "So, about that mouse..." and I found out that the laugh was on me.

Now we have had so much fun laughing at ourselves for laughing at the mouse, that it has become a central part of our lives. It was important to me that the mouse find a satisfactory hole in our new home. As it turns out, it wasn't all that hard to find. Old homes just have unexplained holes that need to be lightened by a little pink mouse.
Thanks, Mom!

Time Flies!

We’ve been in our new rental house for two weeks. The time has gone quickly, and most of our free time has been devoted to unpacking and finding the right place for our stuff. Funny things happen when other people do the packing…you get aerosol can lids (no aerosol cans…they can’t be shipped), random bits of string, jars of hot sauce with an eyedropper of contents, and every spare rusty nail that might have been laying about in the garage. Unpacking has been a bit like Christmas, with a sense of humor!

Our rental house is nice, and it reminds us a lot of our home in San Diego ~except that it’s on a very quiet street and the neighbors keep stopping by to say “welcome to the neighborhood”. Spring here has been amazing. It seems like people try to fill their yards with as many spring colors as possible, as if to reward themselves for the long cold winter. (I don’t think winters are that long and cold here, but ask me again this time next year!) Just on our block, there are pink, red, purple, and white azaleas; white and pink dogwoods; purple redbud trees; luscious white cherry trees; orange-red tulips; purple irises; and then plane ole trees with colorful green, purple, and red spring foliage.
The bird has been enjoying my new schedule of working from home. I think she feels grown up getting to "go into the office” every day. She likes it so much that she doesn't care if I'm there or not. For example, today (Saturday) she begged to go in...even though I wasn't there.

Our San Diego house finally rented. We tried hard to rent it to a nice, small family or a young couple, but in the end it rented to three young guys in a rock band. They say they don’t practice late at night and that the band has its own studio for weekly practice, but it sure sounds like a recipe for angry neighbors! We're keeping our fingers crossed.

That's it for now. Things here are good. Summer is coming, and we're excited for warm, mosquito-ridden nights with the top down on the Mustang. Work continues to go well for both of us. Holly, too, if you count the hours she logs "in the office".

We miss you all.

The Sound of Freedom: Week 2

The Sound of Freedom has been relatively quite this week, possibly due to the turbulently windy days we've had (some with 30-40 mph gusts).


Most of this week has been spent getting into a routine. We started running again, I started back to work, and Chris has been cooking for us every night. There were a few smoke-filled moments earlier in the week as we learned to cook on electric, after 10 years with gas.

For those of you who know Chris well, you won't be surprised to learn that he found a grill near the apartment. Last night we had ribeye and asparagus off the grill. It's not easy cooking on a park grill, but after two weeks of cooking on electric, I think fire made him feel at home.

Monday evening, when I opened the door for Chris, a wide-eyed tabby who seemed to think he lived here burst into our apartment. Holly's never seen a cat in her living room, but it was clear she knew it was something to be concerned about. Luckily she was in her cage, and the tabby was friendly enough to be scooped up quickly. No harm, no fowl. I mean, foul!

After the tabby incident, we visited a house we were interested in renting. It was as close to perfect as our money will get us, so we made a verbal agreement with the owner, and we'll submit our application tonight. It's similar to our San Diego house: three bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, hardwood floors, and a large backyard. And, now that we think we have a place to live, we can get down to the business of exploring this new region of ours...

The Sound of Freedom: Week 1

We've been here most of the week, and I'm beginning to get a grasp on a couple of the major routes around town. Don't get me wrong, I still have a map and the Garmin out and ready anytime I leave the apartment. I love GPS! Having the Garmin makes me remember how found my way around San Diego when we first moved there: I circled help wanted ads, wrote down addresses, plotted addresses on the map, decided which order the map dictated I visit them, wrote directions to each place in the most linear fashion...

Other than local roads and how to calm a frenzied parrot, I have learned that I've been spoiled by living in a house my whole life. Here, I need to take my trash to one of the two giant trash compactors on the premises. The closest one is 2/10 mile, round trip (and ours is one of the closest buildings). It's not about the walk; it's about walking 1/10 mile with my garbage!

The weather's been beautiful all week, but it's supposed to rain this weekend; our official welcome to the east. I think my favorite part so far is that we made it just in time for the break of spring. There are trees full of white blossoms and baby leaves, and there are golden daffodils everywhere!
We're getting settled in the apartment. It's comfortable and quiet, except for the Navy jets taking off from the nearby Naval Air Station. Apparently, Chris read my shock (at the noise) when the first one flew over Monday evening, and he cheerfully exclaimed, "That's the sound of freedom"!

Holly doesn't appear to be bothered by the Sound of Freedom. She watches the seagulls flying overhead, but it seems that jets aren't something a parrot needs to worry about. She likes to look out the window to inspect the resident mallard and plump red-breasted robins in the grass below, and she's very curious about the apartment. I carry her from room to room (there are only 2), so she can investigate her new surroundings. It's magical to watch her eyes brighten with curiosity. I'm convinced that cat owners beat parrot owners to the curiosity quote ("...killed the cat"). Parrots are intensely curious creatures!

3000 miles and a parrot

The moving vans pulled out of the driveway around 2 pm on Saturday. We finished cleaning the house, ran a few errands, loaded the car, and hit the road.

(Holly took the trip well)

We spent our first night in Yuma in a spruced-up, ''60s-style roadside motel called Best Western. The room was way too small for two adults and a parrot, but it was comfy and clean.

(The famous saguaro cactus ~somewhere in Arizona)

We spent Sunday on the road in a giant dust storm. The winds made our '07 Mazda whistle like an old VW bus. We made it to El Paso feeling a little gritty and exhausted from dodging flying cardboard boxes and suicidal tumbleweeds.

(I'm still finding dust in the crevasses of my car!)

(suicidal tumbleweed, but not the 4' one that attacked the car)

We drove across desolate west Texas in more strong winds and blowing snow on Monday. Fortunately, there was no sand...just snow and hail. The scenery was more exciting than I expected. There are spectacular mountains that extend hours east of El Paso, and there was snow over much of the higher elevations of west Texas.

(snow & sleet in west Texas)

(probably the Sierra Juarez range, striped with snow)

We arrived in San Antonio in time for a hearty spaghetti dinner with family. We'll spend a few days here, before continuing eastward again...

(my brother and sister)

. . .

...We spent two warm, sunny days in San Antonio with family, and then began our travels again by driving northeast through Texas on back roads. The small towns passed the time quickly, and I never knew there were so many different shapes of cows! After a BBQ stop in Nacogdoches, Texas (all those cows must have slipped into our subconscious), we picked up the interstate in Louisiana and headed toward our day's destination (Jackson, Mississippi).

We spent another wonderful evening with family in Jackson and hit the road Friday morning under the threat of snow. Good sense told us to beat a path to Memphis -or beyond. But we had been looking forward to spending this day in the Mississippi delta and so, after giving the winter storm warning careful consideration, we made a backup plan and headed for the delta anyway.

Our first stop was Satartia ~pronounced "Satasha" (yes, this is where I get my name). Satartia is a very small town along the Yazoo River; downtown has a cotton gin and a small general store. There are a couple small churches and some scattered houses on the wooded approach to town. After passing the cotton gin, the road curves, crosses the Yazoo River, and flattens out into the agricultural fields of the delta.

(The general store in Satartia)

(This sign used to hang in the question mark-shaped holder in the picture above)

For lunch, we happened upon a great meal of cornbread, fried okra, and catfish. While we were eating, it began to sleet, so we hurried the rest of our day…as much as one can hurry in the delta. We followed the main delta routes in the snow, directly to Memphis. The rarity of snow in Mississippi kept most people indoors this day, and the snow added a hazy layer of gray over the barren winter fields, making them appear desolate and cold.

(The Mississippi Delta in winter)

We reached Memphis without any trouble, but it soon became clear we wouldn't leave until Mother Nature cleared the roads. We found a restaurant within walking-in-the-wind-and-snow distance from our hotel.

(Snow outside of our hotel room)

(The snow is license plate deep!)

By mid-morning, the main roads were clear enough to meet an old friend for breakfast, wash off the 5" of snow from the car, and hit the road. We spent the next two nights enjoying great food and conversation with San Diego friends who have just moved to the mountains of Virginia.

(Fun with friends!)

(Man, it's cold out here!)

We arrived in Virginia Beach around 3:30 Monday afternoon, unloaded the car, and headed for our favorite crab cake dinner (crab cakes and broccoli, with an appetizer of broccoli and crab soup).

(One of the tunnels coming into the city)

************
We already miss San Diego...

(San Diego)

...but we're excited about our opportunity here.

We'll keep you posted.