River Otters and Cardio-Fitness

I have been trying to walk more.  I am getting a bit behind on my heart and can tell the difference.  But I haven't really made the jump to Fortuna in my heart disciplines yet.  Walking around here doesn't feel as necessary and I think I left the habit in Morgan Hill.  Anyway, it is stupid because within five minutes of our house are some of the most incredible places I have ever been.  So, I figured if I have to walk more, I should follow Harriet's lead and do it in beautiful places.

Harriet is twenty five hundred miles away, so I have been talking the kids into going with me to the river.  I found a great place on the Eel at the mouth where there are some island and it is gorgeous.  So, after dinner, the kids and I raced the sun to the Eel and walked over the bridge.  I haven't been out there when it has been this dark and we just had color in the sky and dark ripples in the river.  When there was a black spot on the water that was behaving oddly.  Soon, joined by another one that started diving and reappearing and suddenly there were big fish jumping out of the water (when I say big fish, I mean BIG FISH) and finally a black dot champing away on a fish on his belly and the other swimming away contentedly.  Magical.  And that must have been great for my heart.

Surprise!

As I was getting ready for church I looked out the window and Fortuna was gorgeous. Blue skies all the way to the ocean, clear air, mountains, greens and blues. Off to church and a million things to do and when I finally got done around 2:30 walked outside and it is raining, really raining. Pouring down, rushing down the streets and around the house. All day. Harriet and I spent all afternoon on the living room floor putting refurbishing her spinning wheel, solving problems as they came out -- a great rainy, tired day.

Moving and Change

I am probably insane.

I bought my Volvo in 1988 new and it has been by far my favorite car. I figured it might be my last car and was working on it. But the last couple of years smog certificates were getting harder to pass, and the State kept making offers to retire the car. But it has been doing well lately, and the car was born to drive country roads. But in the last couple of weeks I have been getting an intermittent, nasty screech which has been increasingly accompanied by steering problems. Then cash for clunkers temptation (which I found my Volvo couldn't qualify for -- gas mileage was too good!?!). More screeching and one day I asked "should I replace my car"? Two seconds later, as I tried to unlock my door, the handle fell apart in my hand (and what is worse, inside the door.) Another couple of days hemming and hawing, looking and fretting, and getting the the car through the back seat. So Thursday, on the way back from our clergy cluster, I drove around looking at all the cars in Eureka and finally bought a brand new little Subaru Impreza Outback Sport, Subaru's answer to the Toyota Yaris, not the bigger Subaru Outback. .

I know as a guy I am suppose to feel happy about buying a new car, suppose to swoon at "new car smell". But, really it stinks of chemicals. And I am grieving a very old mechanical friend. I feel like I did when our cat, Pumpkin, died shortly after moving to Morgan Hill, couldn't make the move, just as my Volvo couldn't. I am sure I will get to like this little thing after a while, it is very easy to drive. But right now, after driving a Volvo for twenty years, it feels like I am driving around in a lunch box. For now it is just another friend lost in the shuffle.

Picture found at http://www.autospies.com/images/users/Casey54/ImprezaOUTBACK.jpg

Two and Two

New Beginnings including a blast from the past...

This has been a busy week with school starting, very big for two girls who recently moved here and don't know any of the other kids. A lot to ask of your daughters... And while I do get a sense that it has been challenging and hard and lonely at times for them, there is still a sense of excitement, something new and hope, the promise of something better. They are getting up on time, taking the time to get ready and look nice and actually going to school, all which are good signs.

Then on another plain, a request from my past. An old friend from college sent a message via facebook that her daughter and good friend were traveling our way and could we help point them in a few directions. Of course we could and they landed with us for one short day and evening for an absolutely delightful time. Fun and serendipitous was the fact that they are now the same age we were when we were hanging out and having adventures. Both of the Emilys touched my heart with their personas, open and excited about life yet with the spiciness of their own distinctiveness. And brought back embarrassing memories of how untogether I felt at their age. Challenging yet with so much promise. I wish them the best and have no doubt that they have a wonderful road ahead of them.

Country Living

Oh, if they could only see me now!

Well I have to laugh at myself and how different life is from just a couple of months ago. This past week I canned blackberry jam again (even strained out most of the seeds this time). Earlier in the week Livy and I were invited to pick peaches at a friend's home and made peach jam and peach chutney this time. Actually thinking about making pickles. I'm back to knitting daily, something I did for many years before turning into a Siliconian mom. Realizing that some of the fog is lifting and Fortuna and this area is beginning to feel more familiar and not a constant challenge and mystery. It's still stressful and there are still details to be followed up on and boxes to find (I really thought we were more organized than this!).

I was going to complain about how some people go through the stress of making changes in their lives and actually lose weight mysteriously without even trying. Sigh... I will never be one of those people and adding to my to do list is going back to Weight Watchers and losing the weight I gained in the move. Then a friend sent me an email about whales versus mermaids with the just being whales live fulfilled social happy lives and mermaids are a smelly figment of our imaginations and I remembered a turning point in my weight struggles where I stopped being so critical of myself and befriended myself in a new way. Being loving, kind to ourselves is such a key to being healthy. And so obvious (when I'm feeling it) that I wonder why it is so difficult to pull out of a hat at times.

Blackberry Pie

Pie, pie, me oh my...

When I facebooked about the local blackberries, I received a lot of smartassed responses about phones but go ahead, feel free to mock me as we sit eating blackberry pie, still warm from the oven, picked fresh from the bushes down the street only hours ago. Today we froze peaches from Ted's brother's land that were beginning to spoil and were too good to waste. Tomorrow we have been invited to pick more peaches at a new friend's home and might try our hand at canning peaches (as opposed to peach jam). Livy has her horseback riding lesson in the morning and then off to check out the County Fair in Ferndale before we pick peaches. Are we living the country life or what? Next week I will actually be part of the fair as I participate in the spinning booth.





Yet I have been feeling very turned around. There is something familiar about country living that I take to naturally and love yet hasn't been part of my identity for a long time. We get so much of our identity from our work and what we do that I feel lost without it some days. For a long time I have been immersed in the real estate world in Santa Clara County. I love working and real estate as much as I have been enjoying our country life and this time getting settled in to our new community. But in a way, I think you have to be a little braver to live here where you are defined for who you are, not what you do. Maybe I'm wrong and there are different ways people feel trapped here but what you do doesn't seem to define you in the same way it did where we were living. And I admit to feeling lost more than I would have expected without my work and my work identity.

P.S. Response to Ted's previous blog (which I probably shouldn't be doing) but isn't fixing the toilet over and over again a little like not asking for directions? Call in the plumber already!

Toilets

I have to admit about being very anti green when it comes to toilets. (How about that for a sentence with many layers of meaning?) I think it is very important to conserve water and an easy way to do a great work in the world is to have a low flush toilet. On the other hand, I have never seen a low flush toilet that it wasn't necessary to often flush multiple times, which defeats the whole purpose after a while.

A toilet is amazing technology that, when it is right, can work for decades without any problems. One must consider one's position in the world, orientation of a house and movement of groundwater and flooding. Except for the power toilets we had in Morgan Hill, most of the power is generated by gravity and the stored energy of suspending water where it wouldn't usually go. Generating the pressure to raise up water by using the simple water pressure of the city's water lines. Even the power toilets we had generated power by simply stretching a rubber diaphragm using the cities normal water pressure. Simple and brilliant. But, when problems occur, I would rather be in the next state.

Regardless, stopped up toilets are Dad's job. Designing rectangular drains when plungers are almost all circular is evil. And almost anything you do with a toilet that is out of the ordinary is disgusting. These are things we don't talk about in public (and probably shouldn't in a blog) but can be a huge issue in moving. I have great respect for plumbers who can figure out how to get beyond all that. Anyway, I am all for toilets that have storage tanks as big as the Hoover Dam and to hell with water conservation. Oh, did I mention that I have spent a lot of time fixing our stopped up toilets in the last couple of weeks, actually since we moved in.

Bother!

Vacation or just plain work?

Victoria and back again...

Saturday I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders and didn't understand how tired I was plus the surprise of looking in the mirror and realizing how sunburned I was. Ted told me we had traveled 1800 miles on our vacation and I actually felt a sigh of relief. Although there were some real highs on this trip and many good times, there were some real challenges also and traveling that far that fast was more work than vacation at times. But all things considered, we did really well and accomplished what we set out to which was to explore the Northwest and get to Victoria with Ted.

Once again, I fell in love with my husband and with Victoria. What a beautiful amazing city, so full of life and history, charm and beauty. For a city girl who also loves the country it's a perfect place to visit. Being in Victoria for Ted's birthday was great, we finally got to the James Bay Tea House which he has been talking about for 15 years (I must admit I had the best scone ever there), elegant dinner with just Ted and me and the Royal Museum the next day. One of my favorite times was kayaking on the James Bay, seeing mom seals with their pups, bald eagles and blue herons. Also watching Livy feed a seal off the pier. We could have spent much more time there, didn't even scratch the surface. We will go back to Victoria without a doubt.

And the travels to get there were also beautiful. The California coast north of us captivated me (and I know we'll return there time and again). I was struck by the wildness of Oregon and the vastness of the rivers which put our rivers to shame. Washington was breath taking beautiful but also horrific with all of the logging and clear cutting. I tried to keep an open mind but seeing that beauty disfigured was hard to take. And I loved that we went to Forks and La Push to make Jenn happy. Which wasn't that far from the rain forest which disappointed Ted (global warming after all?). On the way back we stopped at Mike and Lynn's and had a great time seeing their home in the country and enjoying their hospitality.

Back home and glad to not be in the car, getting settled in and having a little time and breathing room. Discovered this afternoon that there are ripe blackberries in our backyard (plus a neighbor's patch which we have an invitation to invade). I like living in the country.

Totems

We went to one of my favorite specific places on earth today. The Royal Museum, third floor, 1st people's exhibit, ritual house. A huge room in the museum with only a couple of dancing masks, a couple of ritual seats, and the large front painting. Dark, quiet 1st people singing. That's it. But the room has something of the mystery of a ritual house where a story of how Raven brought the sun, hence the light to the world.

The totem poles spoke to me today. I found myself wondering what kind of pole my family would put in front of our house. Four lineages. Does that mean four poles, or do we find something of the mystery and common character of our family.

Imagine building an art form so large we would need our whole village to come help us put it up in front of our house, strong so it didn't fall in even the most vicious storm and crush our house, or worse, a neighbors. None of us could do it ourselves. I could help make it happen, but we would need Jen and Harriet to draw and design. I can see Livy bouncing on the pole while we were trying to get it up, reading and telling us stories of other animals like ours or greek gods.

Would we put up warrior spirits, fierce, to defend out home and warn those entering to respect our domaine, or do we put up images of animals that represent what we want for our family, wisdom and hospitality and mischief. Jenn wouldn't want anything that embarrassed us. In fact, she would probably never let us put it up in front of the house. Love the doing, but embarrassed by the power of the images. A totem pole is embarrassing, I suppose. It waves who you are, good and bad, in front of the world and says, "Here I am. Here I stand. Deal with it."

Paddle together or opposite?

Plan it for the kids, do it for ourselves. As we were learning how to paddle, we asked the guide if it was better to paddle together or paddle opposite of one another. He said it was better to paddle together, to match the rhythm and depth of the stroke. I had tried a couple of different ways and couldn't really tell the difference, but it was fun to match the strokes with each other. It gave a quietness to the flow of the kayak. That is a bit of what we are struggling with in this move -- trying to figure out whether it is better to find a common rhythm or to key off our differences. Struggling with bumping into each other or trying to smooth the waters and not make waves. Today went well, can't say that about all the waters we have been going through.

No Wind

You and I have been trying to get to Victoria for thirteen years. Last night I didn't think it was going to happen even though we were across the straits and already had tickets and a hotel room. But this morning, it was glorious, warm and windless, except for the tumult of moaning and complaining from the peanut gallery. Harriet, you are stunning in these pictures. (Of course you are always stunning, but look at this.)

We got to walk and hold hands and talk in one of my favorite cities. I am so struck by a city so dominated by water. That has been a theme in the last month. Moving to Fortuna, and traveling around, I am struck by all the water -- and moved by it. Water flowing, water surging, water floating, rolling in, and crashing down. Salt water, clear water, green water, fresh water, cold water and warm water. It is good for my soul, and here in Victoria, people are centered by it.

Sad Surprises

We started the day driving from Astoria across the bridge and into Washington. Unbelievable beauty all around us. And sadness. Some disappointment.

I am struck once again by the land so brutally logged. I am sure the whole issue of logging is far beyond my understanding and that there is a rhyme and reason to the carnage, but the clear cut stumps as far as the eye can see just seems wrong. Whole hillsides left in ruins with signs here and there saying that they were 20 years old.

At the same time, I remember us puzzling over how to take down a tree hanging too close to our house in Gualala, when someone has figured out how to cut down a whole state of trees, cart them off, mill them and build houses probably all over the world. I think on such a small scale.

The rain forest which has amazed me in years past was a dust bowl this year. Hardly any snow on the Olympics. A weird frustrated Twilight hunt in Forks and La Push. Unbelievably bad dinner but coming around Crystal Lake when all seemed dark, an unanticipated stunning sunset through the silhouetted hills down the lake. And then, no room at the inn, Port Angeles and the Olympics completely booked up so that we had to drive to Bremerton in the middle of the night.

Strange day.

Elk and Beautiful Places

It says something when in a first day of driving in beautiful country that the place that was the most beautiful was closest to home. Today we saw a large herd of elk (like twenty or thirty, grazing twenty feet from highway as we drove 45 minutes from home through the redwoods that we love so much. As we got out of the car, I had a short conversation with the kids because these elk were way too close to us to be really safe, though I think we could have gone over and patted them on the nose without too serious consequences – they were very used to people. But there was a nursery fifty feet off with about four or five calves.

Beautiful places to live are a blessing without measure. I noticed this in Boulder Creek, but didn’t really spend a lot of time thinking about it till I moved to Mendocino. There is something about a redwood tree in my back yard that completely changes how I wake up. My formative years were spent in Arlington, Virginia and I remember being at the top of a tree in our yard a lot of the time. The woods was just a block from the house and a stream with crayfish and snakes and rocks to throw. The pace of life and ministry slowed in the movement from Berkeley and Hayward to Boulder Creek. Certainly country living does this, but I think it also has something to do with walking around in a place that isn’t made by human beings, in a place that is nurturing life on the planet instead of poisoning it, where the predominant smell is bark not car fume.

In Mendocino many people just plane stopped a little before sunset, closed up the shop, walked down the street a block or so to watch the sunset. When I lived in Berkeley and was building the retreat center, I would often go up to the rooftop of our three story Victorian and sit on the chimney to watch the sun go down behind the golden gate. Now we watch evening fade slowly on the foggy hills beyond the Eel River. (Of course I never see the sun come up.)

Home Sweet Home?

Transitioning

I think we are kind of interesting and funny, the way we meaning people, have such resistance and then end up jumping in with 2 feet. I know everything was kind of a blur when we arrived and I wasn't sure where I was going or where I was or what I was supposed to do (i.e. what are my priorities anyway?). The beginning of a move is obvious, unpack, clean and organize (over and over and over again). But then I would have these epiphanies, realizing we needed doctor's appointments, a good vet and that I still need to change most of the addresses from our past life. As I begin to make headway, I am finding time for other things like the weekly Farmers Market (every Tuesday afternoon on 10th Street). A new friend (?) took me around and showed me some of the important things like where to buy homegrown strawberries and the local feedstore/nursery, some in-town walks and such. I didn't have the heart to tell her I had discovered some (not all) on my own and realizing in the process that I am learning about this town and beginning to find my place in it. Now I need to help my daughters find their place and continue the process of exploration as I begin to see the community that isn't obvious to the eye, yet much more meaningful. So maybe this is about finding our place and who we are, who we can be in this new town, our new home.

Where the f*/k is the checkbook?

Excuse the expletive, but now we are tired and we are dealing with complicated things -- like figuring out our blessed health care -- and when we can't find a file, or a bill, or the stapler it is just aggravating. This is made more complicated because if things haven't found their place yet, it means we can't figure out what to do with it and it may be in the third box. We might remember what we packed the first time, the second is blurry, but the third box is impossible. Seems like there isn't that many boxes left, but enough to make this part of the journey infuriating. I know I have saved receipts that will maybe appear after the apocalypse, but I can't find them now.

This is made even more maddening because I am starting to do some of the planning and paperwork of the job. A little over a week to my first service, and I am planning and rallying ideas written on scraps of paper throughout the last few weeks. Now the little pieces of paper are all over and if I find them, I can't figure out what the chicken scratches I made two weeks ago mean.

I have been thinking a lot about order -- how nice it sounds. I have lived in chaos long enough. I want things where I can find them, I want the kids to behave for a few minutes, I want to not have to learn every bloody thing I am doing right now. I want to have something work the way I planned it, to do something the way I have always done it, to do something I am gifted at and do easily. A pox on all these messy, chaotic, dusty, piled up corners of cherished garbage?!*#^$!

Hiking in Humboldt Redwoods State Park

Hidden Treasures in the Woods

Yesterday I had the most fun hiking through the woods with a group of women from this area. We went to Humboldt Redwoods State Park and although one of my goals was to find my way around the park, I might have left more turned around than when I started. We had a great walk through the forest, over bridges, down by the river and even through a meadow of sweet peas (which is where I found the fireplace left from an old homestead). I wish I could remember half of all the information I heard yesterday about this area and hopefully with time (and repetition) it will sink in. But in addition to exploring and discovering more of the natural beauty of this area, I begin to see more of the community and networking that goes on in this area. As with the richness we are enjoying through nature, at the river, forests, ocean and beaches, I am beginning to see a network of interesting people doing good works and helping to build community through a vision of ideals and dreams. I look forward to seeing the forest through the trees as well as the dreams as in time I get to know more people and what this area is really about.

Bull Ridin'

This is rodeo week in Fortuna.  Lots going on every day downtown, around the town and in the park.  Yesterday as I was visiting people, all sorts of sirens went off downtown and the person I was with smiled and said they had just arrested a tourist.  They have a jail that they drive all around town, pick up some tourist and put them up for the weekend, but they have to do different things for the rodeo.  The chili cookoff on Monday was fun -- all sorts of booths on Main street and a bunch of the businesses in town make eight gallon pots of chili and everyone gets a taste.  Very fun.  All week there have been things going on on Main Street and in the park.  An energy to the town.  Today Harriet and the kids got up for the pancake breakfast this morning, the parade is in a hour or so.  Tonight and tomorrow is the rodeo.  

We haven't been wrestlin' any cows but have been trying to get phone service changed and dealing with a dead cell phone and the seven second buzzer to end the rodeo seems like a good idea when you are endlessly on the phone with att or verizon or blue shield trying to remember which att id one uses when calling customer service.  My office is now the most disorganized part of the house.  Now we are into bull riding.  

Guests in the House

If you want to clean your house, invite over company.

It felt good to cook and clean for someone else in the house. Things get too weird when they are always turned toward oneself, in this case our family's needs. To let go of all of that and be a host is so refreshing. And we figured out how to do it without carting everything to some other mess. The boxes are emptied, most everything is put away, our house can begin to breathe. There are places here that don't nag me to do something. I can go to some parts of the house and rest, which I need because I am bone tired. My body is tired, my mind is tired, my spirit is tired. Moving is exhausting and now that I am seeing an end to it, I am beginning to let go and fall apart.

Inviting someone over is letting go. Others can now see my space without me feeling too anxious about it. I can serve food and have a degree of confidence that I can find what I need. It is now getting to be time to leave for a bit, get out of here altogether, so we can come back home.

Riverwalk Drive

Going for a Walk...

Inadvertantly discovered Riverwalk Drive the other day. Wanted to do a loop around Fortuna during my daily walk but the trouble with my idea was the Freeway and how it intersects the town. Walking around Freeway accesses was a drag and dangerous, not easy for a walker and I quickly discarded that plan. But along the way, I discovered this lovely walk along the river. Walked it yesterday and it took about 1 hour which is my daily walking goal. Did have to drive there to avoid walking through the Freeway mess but great walk with other walkers, obviously a popular place to stroll. Looking for different places to walk around town and this area. Tomorrow I will walk with a local walking group. We will be hiking the River Trail in Humboldt Redwoods Park. That's where Ted and the girls and I went last Saturday exploring different places off the Avenue of the Giants. I have been paying attention to the walking group but not ready to join due to the level of unpacking still required but this walk is calling to me. We all fell in love with that area. I'll report back (and maybe even bring my camera).

Weekend Exploring

Look Ma...

We spent some time over the weekend, exploring the area and being outside (plus looking and finding some sunshine). I was reminded of our first trip up here and the last hour of driving through this incredible forest of beautiful trees and winding river. I couldn't believe how beautiful it was. Most of which is through Humboldt Redwoods State Park. One of our stops was at Founders Grove, a child's dream come true, partly a forest of fallen trees which you can climb and hop from one after another. Then we actually drove through a huge redwood, something I have always wanted to do but never made the effort. The girls found a treehouse which they could climb up into to their delight. And then we scored big, a tip from a waitress as to a local river spot right outside Miranda. But I should take a moment to mention that the food, especially the pizza and calzones at this cafe, were excellent. We were able to sunbath, explore and swim at the river as well as watch some local boys jump off the rope swing (too tame), then off the top of the rock (not good enough) and then from the bridge (arrggghhhh!).

Last night after dinner, we jumped in the car and tried to beat the sunset to the beach. We weren't exactly sure how to find the beach from here but were able to find Centerville Beach which is 9 miles of coastal access and the northern gateway to the King Range National Conservation Area, known as the Lost Coast. And absolutely gorgeous.

I must admit to loving the natural beauty of this area and enjoying spending time outside and exploring. Came in handy as I am feeling very sad about moving and missing people very much...

Jumping off a bridge

The Avenue of the Giants is lovely.  I didn't know Harriet had always wanted to drive through a tree.  I thought it would be very turisty-hokey -- it was -- but driving through was strangely awe inspiring and fun.  Great day of driving and walking and climbing on dead redwood giants.  And then we got to the Miranda bridge.  

I have jumped off bridges and rocks into rivers before and it was fun watch a gang of kids come off the rope swing right up till I noticed this guy sixty feet or so up on the bridge looking over with purpose.  And looking.  And looking.  Finally, he backed up ten feet into the street, ran to the railing, vaulted up, and then stopped dead on the railing.  More slowly, he took a deep breath and plummeted over the side.  The sound of hitting the water was too loud and all of us looked to see if he came out ok.  He did.  Later I talked to him and he was very proud, glad I noticed, but his eyes betrayed a bit of "why did I do that?" wildness.  

Just before we left, a young child who had been playing at the edge of the river wandered too deep and was drowning when she was saved by a sister who was a little too far away, a mother way too far off yelling, and a Dad running into the water in his clothes.  

Olivia got a scare when she swam across a river current, swept off by it's force, suddenly finding a river that had been so tame was much more powerful than she could handle.    

All were ok.  

Why do we jump off bridges, wander into water, and try to fight the currents of the world?  There is a careless madness to it that doesn't just end when we are teenagers.  We got news this week that there is another way the Conference is not caring about us.  We are out of control on this one and will have to trust that nothing serious happens, that God will care for us, and that there might be helpful hands if we get over our heads in the deep currents of life.  Off we go!  

Local Hot Spots (Literally and Figuratively)

Grizzly Creek State Park

Very beautiful and not too far from our new home, just a quick drive down Hwy 36 to this state park. Great river with warm(ish) water for swimming and great rock jumping. We explored the river part of the park and didn't get to go through the trails in the woods but we'll return. The rangers were very apologetic that there wasn't sun that day. We are finding that although Fortuna gets it's share of typical coastal fog and overcast days, it's only a short drive to sunshine and replenishing the Vitamin D. We stayed for a couple of hours and played, explored. Long enough for both girls to fall in the river. The trees were tall and impressive but I'm still interested in going to the Garberville area and checking out the trees you can drive through (although Ted tells me that is in the past, we'll find out).

River Rocks

Busy day right up until the moment that we took off down Highway 36 for Grizzly Creek State Park. Driving the mountain roads is good for me. Walking in the redwoods is healing for my soul. Stumbling along a rocky stream watching for skipping stones is complicated. My feet have never made that easy, but I watch Jen leaping over the rocks and I miss the days with a younger, less complicated body.

And then we got to the rocks and I felt like I could stand there forever and never say another word again. The hindu masters advised that one learn to watch a river, not the stuff floating or reflected on the waters, but the river itself, bent and changing, flowing, cutting through all the hardness of life. It is the essence of enlightened meditation and I am sure the heart of prayer. How else could Jesus have done what he did without the stillness of this kind of prayer. There is a point where I just don't care anymore, which unleashes compassion, healing and life.

What is your name, please

Ann, no Claudia, no Sharon (er Shannon -- uh, Shawn).

We are now into it. This week I am graduating from strictly moving to unpacking and working. I am at the point where I feel consistently stupid, so many details to learn, computer programs to learn, files to find -- I already set off the security alarm; it won't be the last time. But the details are the easy part. As clumsy as I feel now, in a few weeks all that will be easy.

The hard part is learning the names.

I love ready science fiction/fantasy and over and over books talk about the importance of names. There is the public name (and right now we are all putting on our best public faces and names if we can). But, the true names call out the true essence. If you know something's true name, you have power over it. That is ridiculous at one level, there is no magic in this. But, at it's core knowing someone real name is everything. It is where ministry really happens. In a church of fifty people there are fifty people in crisis. There are a hundred and fifty gifts waiting to be let loose. If God has our secret names written in The Book, it is the magic of being known that is written. If Jesus had any power, it came from knowing people and also knowing God's name present in that place.

Right now everyone is nice -- they tell me that it is ok for me to forget a name. They joke and tell me that there will be a quiz at the end of the day and laugh. But, under it all they want me to know them, or, they don't want me to know them. They want their name to be the one I remember and at some trusting point, to know a deeper name -- to see them, to call them out, to send them forth. It all starts right now with getting to know a city full of names.

Car meets Car

More on knowing me...

For those of you who don't know this about me, I'm practically a guy when it comes to my car. I love my car and during this move, it has been even more important to me. A place where I can center and feel like I still have some control over my life during this period of chaos and change. So, this morning, when I backed up with my car full of recycling and limited visibility and backed into Ted's car, heared the sickening crunch of two cars meeting, my heart sank lower than I expected and all my good intentions and good attitudes and being there for my family and anything good in my universe disappeared into a black hole. Actually, maybe that is a silver hole and you can actually see it in the photos above (I do hope my insurance agent isn't reading this). My head says that it makes a lot of sense to make this kind of mistake when there is so much new territory and stress but my heart is having a gigantic temper tantrum that probably doesn't befit the image most people have of a minister's wife or even their realtor and especially not their mother. Or maybe it's not a temper tantrum but an incredible bout of self pity. Which might last a while. I hate having anything wrong with my car. And it just seems like I ought to be able to have some control over some part of my life right now. Seems like I was wrong...

Running Away

A Day at the Beach!

Time to take a break from unpacking and all the seriousness of relocating. Hopped in the car and headed north to Eureka (15 minutes from home). Drove by the harbour and discovered a place called Samoa Beach, a 300 acre refuge, island. Actually saw a river otter run past and jump in the water! Plus some good rock climbing or rock running as the case may be for Jenn. Also drove through old town and checked out some of the different areas of Eureka. Great lunch in a Thai/Vietnamese restaurant. Saw a knitting shop (one in Ferndale and now one in Eureka - I'm safe). Did some 'big city shopping' and headed home. Good day and now I'm ready to open some more boxes.

Good Morning from Fortuna

Exploring the Area

One of the nice things about the weather here that people don't think to point out is what great sleeping weather this is - definitely not too hot but chilly enough to cozy up and have a great night's sleep. So here I sit, sipping my morning coffee (avoiding the kitchen with the apple pie and homemade cookies), reconnecting with my technical universe and beginning the start of building routines here in Fortuna. There is so much to do it is overwhelming at times. I see the garden beckoning me (more fun than unpacking), the ants circling the kitchen (needs constant cleaning or beware), boxes, boxes and even more boxes.

At first, we were scared about the basics. Would the house work for us, does eveything function, where did I put my... Now that we have a semi-functioning home and know where a few things are (Starbucks, Safeway, Ace Hardwood & the movie theatre), we can relax and let in some of the feelings we have been too busy to experience (and working at avoiding). We all miss our friends and Morgan Hill family so much. I'm not sure I really understand this Methodist reasoning but will save that for another time. I think today will be an exploring day (and nuture the family). Time to take the girls and my husband out and around and check out Eureka. I hear there is a charming harbor and old town. Will take my camera and post some photos when we get back.

Check in later for an update!

Up and Down

Today was my first day at the new church and I had a good time. I didn't preach, which was a little odd, but sat in the congregation and worshipped with them. Got the gift of listening to a sermon by a retired United Methodist DS from the Troy Conference, soon to not exist -- the Conference not the pastor. Got drafted into the choir the minute I walked in the door and instead of leading it, was singing with about fifteen other guys in a men's patriotic sing. I haven't sung in all all male chorus in a long time, another gift.

Home was another story. I hit the wall today. Couldn't think, could do anything. My whole life seemed unmanageable and we got homesick, did things for the kids that were totally unappreciated. Couldn't find anything I wanted. Set up some stuff that mostly didn't work and didn't get anything done that I needed to.

I know from experience that there will be more days like this, and that most days won't be like this -- things get better. I am sure I will miss Morgan Hill forever, just like I miss the people in Fort Bragg and Boulder Creek. It is part of the process of loving and moving on in ministry.

But today, I am feeling heavy.

Both sides of the penny

There is something about me that I really like and dislike at the same time and that is my sense of adventure. Offer me a good adventure and I'll be hard pressed to turn it down. Which was part of my reaction when I learned Ted had been transfered. Fortuna, hmmmmm... I do love living out in the country and after living 16 years in Mendocino County actually enjoy the overcast days and coastal weather. A new place, a new adventure, feels like a gift wrapped package - who knows what is inside? Yet, it is also my impulsiveness that has landed me in Tel Aviv airport with a suitcase I couldn't lift, alone in a South American country without being able to connect with the many ways we now take for granted (including speaking the language). So it really didn't surprise me when I called my sister the other day and couldn't stop crying. Ted and I spent 13 years building a life and a family in Morgan Hill and have been a part of a vibrant and exciting community. I have met so many wonderful people there, shared experiences and made many good friends. And now I miss them. Arghhh - Why doesn't my adventurous spirit get that at the time of making important life decisions?

And yes, I wouln't give up my time in Israel, my Peace Corps stint in Chile, my jump from New Jersey to Gualala, California and my adventures along the way. So Fortuna, watch out, cause here we are and who knows what lies ahead.

Almost the 4th of July

There but for Fortuna continued...

Back online already (thank you Ted) after making the move up here 4 days ago. The drive up here was a long one, 7 ½ hours in 2 cars with 2 teenagers, one cat and one guinea pig. Arriving in our new home and not knowing what to expect, only having had a glimpse of our home from the outside. Nice surprise, great sunlight and a lot of the charm of an older home such as wood floors and good size rooms but with new carpeting and paint, very sweet. And frosted with the hospitality of a smaller town. We have had a parade of people welcoming us, beginning with one woman who greeted us at our door with dish detergent in her hands. Which wasn’t remarkable until the next person showed up and she also greeted us with dish detergent in her hands. I was beginning to think this was a Fortuna tradition and/or I was going to have to upgrade my cleaning skills. We had people coming through all day long, helping us unpack, checking to make sure everything was working, pointing us in the ‘right’ directions, filling our pantry & fridge with food and bringing meals along the way, making us feel very welcome.

We are just getting settled and have only begun to explore our town and this area which I am beginning to sense is bigger than Fortuna proper. Where is the beach access the locals use, the good swimming holes, the nearest place for kayaking and river rafting, what to see in Eureka and the best local fishing (for Ben and Jaime). There is a walking group I am eager to be a part of (hopefully by next week). But I have found a few things out, like where is the nearest (only?) Starbucks and have already been to the movie theatre (within walking distance from home). Looking forward to checking out the Farmers’ Market and the week of the 13th the whole town celebrates with the rodeo which sounds like a big event. Hopefully, I’ll be unpacked enough by then to find my cowboy hat.

3, 2, 1, 2, 3 and Counting

July 3, in Fortuna. They have indeed had a heat wave as we have arrived, but that means 75 degrees and gorgeous.

I am now in a country church again. I like it, but I knew when two of the women of the church walked all the way around the house and through a gate so they come come in the back door. Half the church has been in our home in the last three days bringing meals, checking to make sure that everything is done, offering to help unpack boxes and chatting a bit.

I am thinking about two images of moving that surprised me. Boxes and wires.

Boxes are a reciprocal process. Start with a normal mess, then piles of boxes, then an empty rooms, then empty rooms, piles of boxes and finally the normal mess. We had hoped that we would have cleaned out so the normal mess would be less of a mess at the end than at the beginning, but this whole equation will end equal. The most significant difference from one end to the other is place and soreness.

A modern move seems to be about wires and cables. (Maybe next time it will all be wifi). David made a good suggestion in Morgan Hill. Don't sort things out into their boxes, but put all the cables into one box and plug them back in at the end. Turns out that this works in theory, but doesn't account for movers who don't care about "open me first labels". (We had great movers so no disrespect intended.) A related problems is that there were a lot of boxes of cables, enough to either breed or lose -- I haven't found out yet. Finally, a box of cables is fairly light and can end up in the back and top of the box mountain and take weeks to find. Anyway, after you find them, a modern move is about plugging everything in and turning everything on. After the last two days, I figure I should dispense with a wall plug on every wall, and simply tile all the walls with outlets.

Soon, we transition from plugging in electronics to plugging ourselves into this new community. Those wires are even harder to find.

Two Days, Tomorrow the Movers

In the last two days, I have had a hundred people I love give me a hug, tell me they love me and shower me with so many blessings it makes me blush.

So, why is it that the only thing I can think of is that the movers arrive in a few hours. The move dominates everything now. Today was like a wedding. So many details and special things that one must trust their memory and keep moving. Moving. The ritual must be powerful enough to last after the craziness passes. Will it pass? Tomorrow a huge truck will park in front of the house and a couple of guys (probably guys) we don't know will walk into our house, take everything we have, and drive off to someplace we don't know. They said 18,000 pounds which I have lifted at least twice over the last three weeks (how is that for pumping iron, 36,000 pounds), and they will do in about five hours.

I have liked how there has been a constant stream of friends in for Livy and Jen. They haven't done this before and I can't imagine how scary it must be. It will hurt them to lose these friends, and the more they are here, the more it will hurt. But I am glad for the friendship they are experiencing.

Saying Goodbye or Disappearing into the Night

Do I really need an excuse for not writing?

I can understand the temptation to slink away into the night and not have to face not only the feelings but who I have been for the past 13 years. I have spent a lot of my life untangling my inner twists and knots in order to feel and process like a "normal person". Yet I am constantly surprised at how much I don't want to feel anything these days. And we are on a goodbye merrygoround.

Lunch with some of my Intero friends was very sweet. When you work that hard and 'go through the fire with people' you really get close. Our office has had so many good people who understand community and how to bring it together. One of the reasons I was able to take being a realtor to a higher level was due to their good role modeling. And so many good good people not only in our office but in the real estate community in town.

Dinner with Congregation Emeth last night was also poignant. This was my first time I had ever joined a congregation. I also remember how welcomed Rabbi Jerry made us feel and how I loved his rambling sermons which I'm not sure I ever fully understood. And how welcome everyone made us feel. I know we confused people at first (how often does a Methodist Minister join a temple?) but before too long there was always a friendly 'hey Reverend' to Ted and lots of entry points for me and the girls. Rabbi Yitzi was very good at bringing us into the congregation in meaningful ways and enriched my experience of being Jewish far beyond my expectations. I have a greater love of Judaism due to him. I feel blessed that I was able to use my skills and work as a Realtor to play my part in helping the Congregation buy a building. But that's a whole other story!

Tonight we have a party at the Church where we celebrate another round of deep friendships. I don't know how exactly to tell my story of how I fell in love with everyone at Church, with the Christian walk and how that has enriched my life. I believe we have our own spiritual paths. I know mine is a Jewish one and at the same time I feel honored to have been able to participate in so many different ways at the Methodist Church, stumbing around trying to find my way. If joining a temple was new to me, well, being a part of church was way out of anything I understood. Yet I was also warmly welcomed and accepted here and allowed to find my place.

People have been dropping by to say hello, to say goodbye. Bringing offerings of strawberries, cookies and friendship. But how do you package friendships for the road? I am heartbroken to leave so many people I love. I have had the gift of so many opportunities to grow as a Jew, as a Christian, as a mother and a wife, as a Realtor, as a member of community and larger communities, as a friend and as a person.

Emeth

Fits into the category of One of the Odder Things I Have Done in My Life.

When you and I moved to Morgan Hill, we joined the local temple. I have had association with Judaism for most of my adult life, falling in love with Jewish mysticism in college, but never actually joined a temple. Never did figure out if it makes sense for a United Methodist minister to belong to a Jewish community, but I liked it. The Rabbi at the time, Jerry Levi, was odd and wonderful and I learned a lot from him. He talked to me about his brilliant meandering sermons and said sermons presented doorways to the divine. So he jumped from doorway to doorway while my style stuck with exploring one at a time. He opened up a place for my family to be more fully Jewish and more fully Christian. A great gift. But there was a double gift because Alisa Fineman was cantor and her voice was a open doorway every time she sang.

Rabbi Yitzak Miller was just getting started, a more fiery passion, intent on congregational growth and we talked and talked. Yitz and I also worked together, events for religious tolerance, a class we did with Burt Jacobsen on the Baal Shem Tov and Jesus. He began to teach me a bit about Torah Cantillation. But more important, he opened a door for you into the faith of your heritage and I will always be grateful for that.

In the last years I have pulled away from the Jewish community, needing a more simple focus in my own spiritual life for a while --- turned out to be years. I watched the kids go to two very different Sunday Schools while I became more separated from the life of the Jewish community. I have only had a couple of conversations with Debbie Israel, but appreciate her spark.

I hope to find a community as open in Eureka. I miss the liturgy, miss singing in Hebrew. I will miss Emeth, her people, and an educated dialogue that is much deeper than anything I have done in church.

Alisafineman.com

Uv'chein

Saying goodbye

I met with Susie to say goodbye today.  I told her I was stressing about the last sermon this Sunday.  In her direct way she wondered what was such a big deal about saying goodbye.  Great conversation.  Life is good here, life will be good there, or not.  There really isn't a lot to say.  Just say goodbye, don't talk about it, and get on with it already.  This rings true to me because she and I are a lot alike.  We like starting things, love the excitement and new possibilities of beginnings, and get bored easily once things get chugging along, chomping at the bit to build something else.  That is one of the surprising things about this appointment, me at age 56 (just about), and us, Harriet and I, at 15 (just about).  I'm not bored at all -- I am engaged in the questions lived with folks I've know a long time, more curious about how to get through long term issues.

Susie is a remarkable human being, one of the best I have known in my life, though if she reads this I risk getting skewered on a spit.  She is an inseparable blend of being perfectly devout and incurably  heretical.  Most of my good friends probably fall somewhere in that territory, now that I think about it.  

And this is probably an answer to why saying goodbye is so hard for me.  There are remarkable human beings all around me.  All different, all loved.  No single goodbye could possibly work because each honoring is unique.   Impossible.  Time doesn't allow for all the goodbyes.  It is not like the boxes which somehow or another all have to get on the truck and go.  At some point, I just have to leave every unspoken goodbye scattered on the floor and move on.  

God's Eye

Seven Days.  Down to the wire.  Will all of our stuff fit into a truck?  Into the next house?  Gandhi keeps whispering from our emptying rooms, "Simplify.  Simplify."

Harriet, where are you?  You aren't writing.  I talked to Mom today and she said she was thinking to herself, "Why don't you just talk to each other?"  I laughed.  It's a game.  Write to me what you are thinking and feeling.  

The days are intensifying with difficult goodbyes.  My staff got together last night at Rosie's where most of Morgan Hill walked through for Taco night.  You were there too with your friends outside saying goodbye.  Today your office said goodbye, my last night of choir.  Friends are acting weird around us -- people we love and who love us are angry, not saying goodbye at all.  Others are straight forward, refreshing.  Janet gave us a prayer afghan, she said 19,000 prayers.  I can see each one of them.  

My office mirrors some of the weirdness.  I am almost done, the rooms are a mess, but the art is still up on the wall giving a strange normalcy to a world gone crazy.  I have been looking at the God's eyes that I did for Lent.  Everything swirling around, but in the center, simplicity, simplicity.  

Hospitality or Me Me Me

I can't believe the relief I felt today when I heard the movers say the billing was all settled -- she talked to Chuck, thank you Chuck and everyone else that had to be involved -- and our dates were set.


Take care of others (my kid's friends, people from the church or neighborhood, even the at-this-point-fictional new tennants) or do what I/we need. That is the decision point that keeps coming up for me. There is so much need in moving. The boxes to be packed, we must gather supplies, take care of a fraying family, or perhaps look for a moment at my own bruised self. I put my own needs on the shelf too much as it is. Turn off, shut down, keep moving -- that is my motto. Feel later. But, the middle path of course leads to enlightenment.


However, I am finding that doing for others is a helpful friend in this process. Dad taught me to make sure a campsite was spotless for the next camper. (Hi, Dad.) I keep thinking what would be a nice touch for the next person, and a solution to one of my own needs arises. If I stop and really say goodbye to someone, the move goes better -- so far. Finally, as many needs as we have, this move isn't about me or my family. It is a work move, and part of my calling. The whole thing is for others. How do I move in such a way that it prepares ground for where I'm going? Can I pack boxes in such a way as to preach better when I arrive in Fortuna?


Gandhi speaks, every time you make a move, simplifiy! The pile of boxes in my garage say, yes yes yes.

A Day with Best Friends

Nine Days, Oh My!

David and John braved the garage to help me sort, pack and weed out my tools. hardest job yet and a good one for Father's Day -- real guy stuff. A whole floor full of stuff and I think we threw out one old stripped screw driver. Of course there was a lot of junk, bits of wood and saw dust, plastic bags left over from buying screws, tin cans I used to put bolts in. Surprisingly little I didn't think I needed. Oh My! again.

I am remembering a few years back and my therapist helping me organize the messes I make. She gave me one of the most helpful exercises I have ever done. She had me take pictures of all the messes or places of clutter in my life -- from little ones, like a corner of a box with a mass of paperclips, to big ones, like one whole side of the garage. I mounted the pictures in the middle of pieces of paper and my exercise was to determine ask myself what meaning I gave to the messes or what value in my life I placed on them. That may seem like an simple exercise until one considers how much energy it takes to actually clean up clutter. One insight back then: the shelves and shelves and shelves of books tell me and others that I am smart, have a good education and was well rounded. But as I thought about it, I realized that that was an old me (or a young me). The me now didn't really care about that much anymore, or didn't care to be seen that way. I would much rather be seen in my office as someone you could tell anything to. So, 2/3rds of the books went out, and rather complicate art came in.

Looking at all the tools I remember all the furniture I've made in the last years and the guitars, and I can't throw away tools. So, sorted and stowed for another day far away from here.

Happy Father's Day

Silly Salmon Sunday

Guys have a different way of parenting, nurturing than women. They just don't care about some of the fine tuning we spend our lives on. But they sure know how to be playful, mischievous, silly, chaotic and get us out of ourselves. We spent years celebrating 'silly salmon sunday' at our house, a tradition evolved from a very tired dad who can be very silly, especially sunday afternoons, at end of his work week.

So hopefully we will carry our silliness and playfulness up to Fortuna where we go in 9 days! Jenn was just saying that it didn't seem real to her that we would be gone in such a short time from the home they have known for most of their lives. So we spend our time packing up and saying goodbye to Morgan Hill, our friends and our memories, not knowing what we will find in our new home. And we give thanks for a dad who can not only do all that 'guy stuff' like lift heavy boxes, deal with electrical equipment and take apart our furniture. But can also do the equally and more important guy stuff like ground us, keep us laughing, remain playful and continue to love us as the stress of this move brings out our not so attractive sides. We know that no matter where we go our real home is together with you.

Ten and Counting

I have been away at the United Methodist Annual Conference this week. No packing till I got home and I gifted myself a room alone at Conference. This is partly escape but partly to grieve. I don't grieve easily with other people around, though I did too much stomping around this week with friends. I was probably not easy to be around. The sadness of this move just gets deeper and deeper.

On the receiving side, however, I met with joy a couple of people I will be getting to know in Fortuna in the next months. I found it odd that they seemed more real, like I had connected with Fortuna, than the people in the interview with whom I had much more time. I don't think this was about the people, but the context. Interviews are skewed somehow. But Jean with a huge smile, Steve and Pat who were so gracious were met without all the decisions attached, more cautious and direct than probing. Interview demands decision -- now. All the emails and phone calls with leaders in the last two weeks are bent on preparing the ground, getting set, getting done. But friendship, and most good ministry, occurs in that tentative place where we wait for trust and let first impressions settle a bit before we come to conclusions. It is perhaps the difference between packing to go, and unpacking to settle in.

Harriet, we still have no idea where we are going. We pack and label boxes for an unknown destination, rooms we can't envision, a home that is still an empty box. The mystery continues.

Living in a Beautiful Place

Harriet, I love your entry about the beautiful setting we are moving to. The United Methodist system, which I actually like, is still very odd. Nearly all we were told about Fortuna before going up for the interview by the Cabinet was that it was a beautiful place. A lot of homework, two hours driving around, and two hours of interview and we are off.

But, I know what it is like to live in a beautiful place, where God is the gardener and landscape artist. I lived in Boulder Creek and Mendocino County where I walked out of the house in the middle of the night to bump into a redwood tree, and where I did yard work with a chain saw instead of a lawn mower. People go to live in these places, do whatever work they can, to make just enough money to live there. I found that also. The land heals my spirit, calls out my emotions, and slows me down. In the rhythm of the forest and the ocean, I discovered my own rhythms that are lost in a city. I pay attention to sunset and heart beat and the slow easy conversation. Magic has always made sense to me when I am in the woods. I can always sense God's presence in a moment of quiet anywhere, but in the woods or ocean, that Presence dances.

Ted -- The importance of pause, paws,

We are taking a few moments away from packing to rest in Monterey.

I am rediscovering that saying goodbye is so difficult because I can't just say goodbye. Telling people I love them and I may never see them again is hard enough, but I have to do it with bruised knees, a sore back, bashed fingers and a mountain of details all screaming to not be one of the ones I just end up not doing at the end. Each Sunday for the past couple of weeks, a dear friend has come up to tell me they are off and this is goodbye -- right now. I am spending last moments with someone together stuffing newspaper and a cup into a box. People I have grown with and helped grow want a few moments and I know it will happen with some and not with others. For some, there will just be goodbye.

In the mean time, dishes still wait to be washed, we get up, brush our teeth, bump into each other getting up, negotiate the daily fights, and collapse at the end of the day. The cat and the Guinea pig know something is up, but they just go on playing in the dirt or wood chips, eating and sleeping. For me, like them, each moment asserting itself as ordinary while my spirit readies itself for the mysterious leap.

Fifteen days and counting

There but for fortune...

I remember reading someone saying their regrets were based on what they didn't do, not on what they did do. Well, my family and myself are about to embark on another adventure. I've had plenty so what is one more? This one feels bigger, since my husband, myself, our two daughters, one cat and one guinea pig are about to make a new home for ourselves in Fortuna, California. A brief trip up north took Ted and I past beautiful vistas, abundant forests, gorgeous rivers and giant redwoods. Yet at the same time, I find myself savoring our mountains and rolling hills with our California Oaks and being an absolute snob about where to buy the best strawberries. But at the same time i find myself curious about what we will find up north, seen some mention of upcoming Rodeo and Apple Festivals which reminds me that every area has its points of pride and pretty soon i'll be very opinionated about where to buy the best apples.