Coming home

I'm back home for the first time in six months. It's been a couple of cold and grey June days. It feels about right. I drove up the west side of the Canal to get to Port Townsend. Then down the west wide of the Puget Sound to get to a family wedding yesterday. One thing I miss about being home is tracing water as a means of getting from point A to B. It smells salty and the breeze is damp. I always need to come home for that. I do miss the water. Being home this time is simpler than the last. It's been getting easier the more settled I start to feel in Oregon. That, and I almost never come home so missing it is put off with each postponement of a chance to return home. But, now when I am home in washington, there are things I miss about Oregon. That balance helps me appreciate what I have hear that I will never have there and enjoy my time away from my new home because, now, it's one I want to return to.

One Goal

The beans got put into the ground yesterday. After working a double and going south for Jackie's graduation the beans were floppy and leggy in their egg cartons. Rather than another guilt-laden drawn-out planting session I grabbed a pickaxe and made them a home just off the edge of the Christmas trees. I had to mow down 3' tall grass before I could chop away the top layer of turf. Surrounded by Christmas trees and with sweat dropping off my nose it felt a bit more like a homestead than kneeling in front of a raised bed. And it looked pretty rustic once it was done too. Not in a quaint downtown Portland kinda way, but in a I hope these things can get a purchase in the ground before critters eat them kinda way. Petty and Sonny came over as I was finishing planting the last bean plant. It was kinda cute watching them chirp around the fresh dirt. Cute until Sonny started Godzilla stomping all over the beans before stretching his neck out and delicately snapping the top off one of the healthier looking ones. Their chirps were a little more high-pitched as I waved shovels and rakes at them to scare them out of the newest little garden. But, they never stay gone for long. After I'd finished planting, I eased into the Adirondack chair on the porch. There was an instant feathery flurry and Petty was standing on the arm of the chair, scuttling up my arm onto my shoulder. He needs to live it up now because he's growing fast and won't fit on shoulders for long.

Spring Cleaning

The past six months have by far been the most transformative ever. All the big events happened prior; starting a new relationship, getting my job, moving to Oregon, training, the loss of my uncle, buying my first house, losing my relationship. It was an 18 month whirlwind. And, I couldn't point out one huge event that happened between November 18th 2011 and May 14th 2012. It was down time. And I guess that's why I finally had the time and distance to start to understand all that'd happened prior. It was an exciting time but filled with so much stress and uncertainty that I couldn't see the forest for the trees. I don't want to recap the mental/emotional process of the last six months. Some was ugly, some was amazing. Most was confusing. I'm not the biggest sharer (says the person writing a public blog) so it's tough to put to words how I felt before and how I feel now. Suffice it to say, I feel better. I feel different. I guess I feel more complete and put together than I did two years ago. But, for a large part of that time I felt like I'd lost a part of myself, something I'd left back in Washington. I can't explain the sense of relief in rediscovering what I'd lost but, even more important, I feel I gained something I never had. I'm not being vague on purpose but I feel it's easier to show than tell what's new. June feels like the perfect time to spring clean. Not just my house and property but the cobwebs you can't see too. I'm looking forward to something simpler than the past two years. It seems real necessary to have my physical existence display the changes less tangible. Yesterday I got home from work, almost a straight four-day stretch with one afternoon off between Monday and Friday morning. A storm cloud hunched over the treeline, pelting rain in between bouts of muggy grey sunshine. I "accidentally" brought home a duckling a turkey chick when I stopped at the feedstore for dogfood. Much of my day involved chatting with those two, holding them until they slept, making them a home they're hellbent on outgrowing. The potatoes were mulched and covered with last fall's raked leaves. I noticed that Buster has been crapping in one of my raised beds. That problem remains to be solved but between cat paws/butts and slugs, the celery are all but gone. I think that's a dumb, high-maintenance crop anyway. The garage workout was simple and satisfying. Dinner was a turkey burger that I felt a little guilty about, considering the sleeping featherball in the next room. And Jackie came up last minute to make the day a much-needed chill recharge after a busy busy May. It felt like a great way to kick off the end of spring/beginning of summer. I'm grateful for the changes that have happened. It's a perspective I don't know I could have gained any other way. I look forward to turning this house into a home. I think it's finally happening.