Ch-ch-ch-anges!

I’ve been feeling a bit lost lately.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m now an orphan. Even at 61, “orphan” is how it feels. I just plain miss my mommy and daddy.

Maybe it’s the realization that my career is, for all intents and purposes, over. At some point that resume that used to reflect deep, broad experience became a resume that just says “old has-been fart.”

Maybe it’s a delayed response from being an empty nester, combined with a yearning to be a grandparent. Kids have always been central to my existence – wanting them, having them, watching them grow, and letting them go – and this peace and quiet (that I remember begging for at times!) is sometimes just deafening.

Maybe it’s unhealthy blood pressure and weight readings and a constant pain in my legs and groin, all of which make me feel like a slug. I’m taking action – again. Can I stick to it this time?

Maybe it’s Trump. DUH.

Maybe it’s because we’re looking for the place that we’ll next call “home.”

“WAIT!” you say. “Wait!” How can we be looking for the next place we’ll call home when we bought property in Suncadia two years ago and had begun to design our dream house? You’re astute to notice.

The truth is, we’ve pretty much decided not to move to Suncadia full-time, much as we love it there. Two primary factors played into our decision: 1.) There is no top-quality emergency healthcare nearby. Granted, the Urgent Care in Cle Elum is open from 9 to 5 on weekdays and for a few hours on weekends, but if we chose some other time to collapse onto the floor gasping for breath, unconscious - or worse - on a Sunday night, we’re screwed. 2.) Beautiful as the Cascade Mountains are, winters can be brutal and never-ending. Interstate 90, pretty much the only way to get from Seattle to Suncadia, shuts down due to snow and ice a bit too often for our liking – especially because I promised to babysit for future grandchildren in Seattle on a weekly basis.

We’ve been looking at Gig Harbor  and other communities “on the other side of the water” instead. Unlike times when we’ve moved in the past, there are few constraints this time. We don’t have to look in any specific school district, we don’t need to live close to any job, and we’re less financially constrained than we were earlier in our lives. Total freedom! How nice – and how crazy-making! We’ll know when we find the right place, but who knows when that will be? Next week? Next month? Next year? Watch this space.

Until then, I have a book to write.

Insane ot not? We drove to Salt Lake City and back in one weekend - just to buy a trailer!

Last summer, just a week or so before Tom's cancer scare, we bought a cute little travel trailer.

It seemed like the perfect size for two empty nesters and two Golden Retrievers, who would sleep on the collapsed dinette. Once Tom felt better and we learned that, although he has very early stage 1 prostate cancer, we can take a "wait and see approach," we went on our first camping trip, to Fay Bainbridge State Park.

The trailer was a perfect fit... but we had left the dogs at home.

Fast forward to this summer and after just two camping trips, it became quite apparent, as the four of us attempted to squeeze by each other - people and dogs moving (or being moved) aside so others could pass, that the cute little trailer we bought was just too small.

As we looked into a bigger trailer that would be a better fit, we settled on  Keystone Cougar 21 RBS (code for 21 feet, rear bath, with a slide).

Now all we had to do was find one nearby for a good price. Easy, right?

Not so easy. Downright difficult, in fact.

We found a couple around the country, but the one we liked the best at the best price was in Salt Lake City, Utah of all places.

Utah's not THAT far from Seattle, is it?

Turns out, it actually is! But we didn't really wrap our heads around "2000 miles in a weekend" until we were just about... here.

In 105 degree heat. Without air conditioning. Eight hours in. (Why no air conditioning? Because our truck was "unproven" in such heat, with or without a tow load, and the last thing we wanted was a break-down out there! Turns out, our Chevy Avalanche is a work horse and did great!)

We left our house at 4 AM on Friday morning and actually had a quite enjoyable ride -- well, other than the heat. Thank goodness we had decided to leave the dogs home with a pet-sitter! They would have hated the entire weekend!

At about 8:30 PM, after stopping only briefly for breakfast and lunch, we arrived in Salt Lake City.

It's a beautiful area and because the heat is so dry, it was less bothersome than the humid heat in Seattle, at 20 degrees less!

Once we checked into the hotel and enjoyed dinner at a local Thai restaurant, we made the mistake of heading down the street to take a peek at "our" new trailer. (Well, ours if a $500 deposit constitutes ownership.)

That was a big mistake! Trailers, like problems, seem much bigger at night! We pretty much freaked out at how big it looked!

 What should we do now? Forfeit the $500 deposit, not to mention the cost of the trip (well over $500, with gas, lodging, meals, and pet sitting) and drive back home? Would it fit next to our house? Could we tow it? Would my mother call it a "monstrosity" if she were alive? (Fourteen years later, and I still hear her opinion -- er, I mean her voice!)

We went back to the hotel a bit stymied. I think we were both thinking the same thing, but afraid to admit it to each other: We made a mistake. We were too hasty. The trailer was too big.

Tom fell immediately asleep, exhausted from 15 hours of (shared) driving, but I tossed and turned and pondered and rationalized and questioned and, at some point I must have fallen asleep.

The next day, we headed to our "official" appointment to pick up the trailer. It had been moved since the evening before and Tom and I reacted exactly the same way at exactly the same time: "It doesn't look as big this morning..." PHEW!

Before we knew it, we were enthusiastically signing papers, and by noon we were headed back through the 105 degree desert, again without AC, this time towing our 21 foot trailer. About an hour into the trip home, Tom commented that the trailer wasn't as hard to haul as he thought it might be, and we both relaxed a little. But we both were still crossing our fingers that we'd make it back to Seattle without incident - especially as we passed more than a few people stranded with overheated cars on the side of the highway. We simply didn't have time for an incident of any kind!

While we drove the full 15 hour stretch to get to Salt Lake City in one day, we split up the return trip with our maiden camping trip with this trailer at Farewell Bend State Park, right on the Oregon/Idaho border. It was named by the pioneers on the Oregon Trail as some headed north and some headed south. THIS is where we both confirmed that we had definitely done the right thing. We loved our spacious and cozy new camper!

The next day we were on the road again by 6 AM ("breaking camp" is a matter of pressing a button to bring in the slide!), just in time for a beautiful sunrise.

 Within the first few minutes of leaving our campsite, we came upon numerous abandoned and dilapidated structures - and not much else.

 By this point in our "quick weekend trip," we were getting downright giddy!

 "Mountain Home"? Really, where is either one around here?!

We cracked up at the sign proclaiming Washington to be "The Evergreen State." Poor Eastern Washington - constantly overshadowed by the more popular Washington everyone knows about - the lush, green, beautiful western part of the state.

By this point, only a few hundred miles from home (and still morning, since we'd left the campsite so early), we were starting to see familiar territory. What are those things way off in the distance? Why, they're mountains!

  
Our Cascade Mountains! Aaaaaaah...

If we lived in Suncadia already, we'd be home by now.

And look! We were even greeted by the fanfare of the Blue Angels! We must be home now!

 

Were we insane to travel almost 2000 miles in not even three days? Yes. Yes, we were. But we do love what we brought home! The trailer fits all of us beautifully - and the dogs love it.

 We can definitely be considered "trailer trash" now, with the way our driveway looks...

...but the little guy should be gone soon. Know of anyone who wants a cute little trailer, perfect for two people?

In three days we'll bring our new trailer to Deception Pass for a few days of camping, and I have a feeling we'll love it! (And if I can find a better blogging platform than what Blogger offers -- I so miss Live Writer! -- I might even blog it.)

And hey - added bonus: when the Big One hits Seattle, we'll just head out to our second home and hunker down!

Northwest Ladybug, Part 2?

For a few months now, I’ve been pondering what to do with this once active and thriving, but now quiet and neglected blog.  Should I just start writing again – sometimes a quick quip, other times a thoughtful essay -- as I did in those pre-Facebook days?  Unlike those who make their living by blogging, I have no incentive to post here other than my own personal need to write and to connect.  I can do that via my blog OR via Facebook, but likely not both. 

When I started this blog in 2006, we were in the throes of empty nest – or rather, we thought we were.  Elisabeth had just graduated from Cal and had begun her career.  She lived on her own in Seattle.  Peter had graduated from high school but was taking a year off before college, living at home and working.  Aleks and Kat were sophomores in high school. 

Empty nest? HA! Not at all!

Even six years later, in 2011, we weren’t true empty nesters, I now realize.  By this time, Peter had graduated from Washington State and had a full-time job, but it was in Yakima, of all places, in what he and Tom have come to call “the armpit of Washington,” and he came home every single weekend to escape to heat. Or the cold.

In 2012, Aleks and Kat graduated from the University of Washington (after coming home most, or at least many, weekends while they were in school), but the economy stunk for new graduates and neither were able to quickly find a career job that would allow them to move out on their own.  So at that point, although Peter had found a job he liked in Seattle and had a place of his own in the city, Aleks and Kat lived at home with us. 

It was only in September of 2013 that we were the actual empty nesters that we purported to be way back in 2006!  That was the month when both Aleks and Kat moved completely out, leaving only one or two boxes in the garage, as Peter and Elisabeth had done earlier.  That was the month when we had three (THREE!) guestrooms and a real office, rather than four cramped kid’s room. 

What was once this (once both Peter’s room and Aleks’ room)…

became this, guestroom #1:

What was this (once both Elisabeth’s room and Kat’s room)…

became this, guestroom #2:

What was once this (Kat’s old room and our former office):

became guestroom #3:

And what was once Aleks’ old room…

became our dual office:

And now that we are TRUE empty nesters, meaning that one or more kids coming home for more than a few hours is an uncommon occurrence, we have some big – and I mean BIG – decisions to make. 

The process of making and implementing those decisions just might be the focus of Northwest Ladybug #2.  What do you think?

Tom has spent almost 20 years fixing up this house to, as he puts it, “attempt to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”  In my opinion, he has been a wild success. (Just look at all he’s done!)  But in his mind he has only applied patches to a “horribly built” house.  He knows that the electrical wiring is a godawful (and likely dangerous) mess.  He knows that the roof and some floors are sagging and that the builders (just boys of 18 hired off the street, we’ve been told by neighbors) cut corners every chance they got and built just another a sub-standard tract house.  It drives Tom crazy! Not normally the stubborn sort, especially about Big Life Decisions, Tom has made it clear that he “in not going to die in this house.”  So, much as I love this house that finally feels like a home, we are on the look-out for our next move – physically and emotionally. 

I have come to realize that Tom needs a project and that remodeling and improving our homes over the past 30 years has been that project.  For him, the satisfaction is in the process, while my satisfaction has always been in the result.  So for 30 years I’ve been waiting to live in a “finished” home, while he has been immersed in the process of finishing homes.  So, whereas I now feel satisfied and settled in, he now feels unsatisfied and itching to move onto the next project. It’s one of the gazillion and one ways that we’re different.

That means that this huge backyard water feature project that he began last summer…

(to…)

…will now be finished with the idea of selling the house rather than of being the perfect water feature for us.

Newly designed living spaces and gorgeous new landscaping projects will now give way to home maintenance and repairs, in preparation for selling.  It is taking me a while to get used to that idea, but I must admit that the idea of moving anywhere we want (within an easy drive to Seattle, of course; we intend to have grandchildren one of these days!) and either buying or maybe even building a dream home that IS well-constructed and has the amenities we want, is actually kind of exciting!

Our current thoughts for locations are Bainbridge Island (and maybe other surrounding areas like Poulsbo or Kingston), Leavenworth, or perhaps Bellingham.  We’d love to stay in Woodinville, but we can only get for our money here what we are selling here, and that makes no sense at all!

We visit Zillow constantly, but have also begun to look at floor plans and are just now beginning to form a wish list.  It looks something like this:

• At least a half acre, preferably wooded but also light and sunny in places, and preferably with a fenced area for the dogs
• A water view would be glorious.
• Well-built construction and a style that we actually like.  (Neither of us have ever liked the split-level floor plan of our current home.)
• Either a single story or a second floor that does not contain “necessary” rooms that must be accessed daily.  We are, after all, planning to grow old and decrepit in this home!
• A large, open living area with a gorgeous kitchen (like the one I have now – sob!) and great room in one.
• A “media room,” where lively grandkids can go be lively, happy, loud grandkids while their old parents and older grandparents visit in the great room
• The master suite and master bathroom that we never had – two sinks, a huge bath tub, walk-in closetS, etc.
• A guest room, an office, and a craft room (so yes, we’re looking for four bedrooms for just the two of us!)
• Either a fully fenced yard or a fenced portion of the yard so we can let the dogs out without being attached to a line and without having to worry about snarky neighbors reciting laws about unleashed animals.  (Yes, one of those lives in our current neighborhood.)
• An “blank slate” for Tom’s big retirement project – building either a separate guest cottage like my parents had or a full apartment over the garage

This list will continue to grow and be honed as we delve further into this process. 

I seriously considered starting with my own blank slate project – a completely new blog – but I just can’t see abandoning Northwest Ladybug!  So just come with us now on our new adventure as we decide where to move and what we want in our new home, and as we make all those plans and wishes a reality.

Retirement on Bainbridge Island? A thought to ponder.

Since we moved from California to Washington State in 1993, Bainbridge Island has been a part of our lives – first because Tom’s sister Marcy moved there in 1990 (and was our original draw northward from San Diego) and then because Tom’s very longstanding family friends (I’m talking since babyhood) the Nybergs moved there shortly thereafter. 

Once we moved northward to Eastern Washington where we spent almost two years before moving to Seattle, family holidays consisted of a drive into Seattle, then an always-entertaining ferry ride, and then delicious meals and family fun.  The kids have many longstanding memories of hikes in the dense island forests and holiday celebrations with their cousins and with the Nyberg kids, all of them around the same ages.

Unfortunately, Tom’s sister and her family eventually moved away to Northern Idaho, but the Nybergs remained on the Island and we have managed to spend time on the Island consistently for the past twenty years.

Now – shockingly -- it is time for Tom and me to think about where we want to spend our retirement.  (I know – we can’t possibly be that old… can we?!) Do we want to stay in this house, which Tom refers to as “an attempt to turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse,” or do we want to live somewhere else?  Moving was never an option while the kids were in school, and it won’t be a realistic option until Tom retires in about five years, but it’s time to give the question some thought.

We think and think and think, and only one place other than our current home ever seriously comes up – Bainbridge Island.  Granted, much of the draw comes from our lifelong friends the Nybergs, whom we love dearly, as well as newer but also dear friends in nearby Poulsbo, but we also simply love the Island and can absolutely see ourselves moving there and being those grandparents who “live on an island, a ferry ride away.”

So this past weekend, spurred on and enthused by Deb and Neal’s encouragement and by their gracious invitation to spend a weekend with them, we visited the Island again, this time with retirement in mind.

While waiting for the ferry (a 90-minute wait since it was a holiday weekend), we asked ourselves whether our kids would really come see us as often as we hope once they have their own kids.  “Imagine a hungry, tired toddler in the back seat now,” I suggested. 

It was a discouraging thought.  Would we only see them on holidays once we’d move to the Island?  Not acceptable!

In a complete non-sequitur and completely irrational line of reasoning, this little guy on the ferry made me feel better. 

Surely our future grandchildren would love to go see Noni and Papa (yes, I’ve already named us as grandparents) because they’d see baby Corgis all over the ferry every time they came to see us! 

(I know, I know…)

In order to convince us to move to Bainbridge Island, Neal bought a boat. 

I know – wasn’t that thoughtful of him?

He also somehow arranged for the most perfect weather for an evening sail.  I’m telling you, this guy is good!

(Tom and Neal)

(Deb and me)

The next morning, we had a delicious breakfast of eggs benedict, roasted potatoes, and fresh fruit salad here:

I know what you’re thinking.  No, this is not an exquisite island bed & breakfast.  This is Neal and Debs‘s gorgeous island abode, beautifully landscaped, beautifully decorated, and so very cozy and inviting!

After breakfast, the four of us set out to explore a few other possible abodes, pretending that we were ready NOW to make the move – which we’re not.

There was this one…

…which was quite nice, but just a bit yawn-inducing..

…compared to this one, which we called “the gingerbread house,” which IS exciting because it has a space over the garage for a separate apartment (for kids and their families).

We decided that something must be wrong with it, though, because it’s been on the market for well over a year and has already seen a price reduction of almost $50,000.  OR it’s an amazing find and we’re stupid not to jump on it now, even though we’re nowhere near ready to move!

From the “gingerbread house” (Tom decided that he could easily tone down the cutesy aspect), we drove to this house, the new object of our affections:

We call it the “deer house” because this mama deer and her two babies led us there.  No really – they walked ahead of our car and led us right into the driveway!

(“So, do you like it?” she asks…)

One of our “must haves” is an apartment for visitors and this one, like the gingerbread house, has an apartment over the garage.

If either of these are still on the market in five years, we’re in luck. 

Or not– because that would mean something is definitely wrong with them!

Another option we’re considering is actually building our own place.  Er, I mean having our own place built. 

Tom, you did not see that!  I didn’t mean it!  Do NOT get any ideas!  (Tom has been remodeling houses for 30 years. One of my “must NOT haves” is Tom starting all over again with a house!  I don’t mind an out-of-house project, like renovating the space above the garage, but no more 30-year construction zones!)

After looking at houses, we had a chance to just enjoy each other’s company and the beauty and unique personality of the Island.

(When was the last time you saw frolicking rock-kids and dinosaurs?  Or even Bazooka bubble gum?!)

For now, we’re just getting used to the idea of moving – which, I must admit, gets me a bit verklempt because look what we did to make a home!  I LOVE our current home now!

On the way back to the mainland, we both fully appreciated the fact that we live in Seattle.  Me, because I absolutely love living in the Pacific Northwest and Tom, because I convinced him to stop thinking about the depressing incessant three seasons of clouds and to live in the moment, dammit!

Seriously, who wouldn’t love living here?!