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.