I'm finally able to take a breath, albeit one full of charcoal smoke in the Vietnamese city of Hai Phong, where I'm giving an ethics exam today. I left for VN the day our house closed escrow, and since then, thanks to the miracle of online banking, have managed to settle all of the debts we've accumulated over the last six months. Today, we are debt-free for the first time in years. It feels really good, so good I just want to get right back into debt!
We found a house plan we like...except it's a barn. I'm hoping that we can still make it work.
Speaking of barns, my mother's is almost framed in, and we're hoping we'll be in there by the end of July. That will be a great transition for us, as we're already stepping all over each other in my mother's house.
I don't think I've really dealt with being moved and how it's going to affect my job. The drive is so long, I'm just kind of in denial (Groucho Marx: "Denial is not a river in Egypt!") about it. If I could come up with something productive to do in the car (like write a novel!), I would feel a lot better. I will update on this.
The girls seem to be settling into life in the SC mountains just fine. Jeff is happy. I am happy. Let's hope that next year will go as smoothly as possible.
Meanwhile, I will take a bite of my latest banh mi and visit a few more temples before I bust out of here.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Exiting
The house is sold. We will have enough money to put in our well and water tanks, our electricity, our septic tank, and get the permits we need to build. Jeff has given notice at work. Word has gotten around on my campus that we're heading south. The girls have liquidated their toy collection in exchange for a trampoline. We have radically downsized our possessions, as well. My mother has begun work on remodeling her barn, so we can move in at the end of June, when I get back from Vietnam. We have joined a swim and racquet club in Scotts Valley. A Prius is coming, which will be my commute vehicle. I have at least three potential carpool friends from work. Jeff has applied for a few jobs on both sides of the mountain. The roses are blooming. The attic eaves have been vacuumed. A party is in the works.
I have never been so terrified, but I also haven't been this excited in years. We are both really ready to leave Napa, even though it has been so good to us, and we have made some good friends. I'm really going to miss my neighbor Mary, who has supported us in so many ways: she watched our kids, cleaned our house, watered our plants when we were on vacation, made us cakes and brought us flowers from her yard, gave us cigarettes, sewed halloween costumed for the girls, fixed their boo boos; in short, was a surrogate grandmother to us (and to Sophie and Lucy). I loved sitting in her yard with her, just shooting the shit. I'm really going to miss her.
I'm also going to miss our poor house, which was in such a terrible state when we bought it; it smelled awful, had been so abused. We moved so many rocks out of the yard! We tore down the carport and a rotting, rickety, cinder-block-footed spa enclosure in the back yard. We sanded down and patched the redwood siding. We slept on a mattress on the floor when the girls were small. We had no real kitchen for 18 months. There wasn't a surface in that house that we didn't touch. Slowly, its beauty reemerged.
I had cancer in that house. Our daughters learned to walk in that house. I earned tenure in that house. Jeff studied for his license in that house. We were patient in that house: that's probably what I'll remember the most.
It's time. Farewell, Napa!
I have never been so terrified, but I also haven't been this excited in years. We are both really ready to leave Napa, even though it has been so good to us, and we have made some good friends. I'm really going to miss my neighbor Mary, who has supported us in so many ways: she watched our kids, cleaned our house, watered our plants when we were on vacation, made us cakes and brought us flowers from her yard, gave us cigarettes, sewed halloween costumed for the girls, fixed their boo boos; in short, was a surrogate grandmother to us (and to Sophie and Lucy). I loved sitting in her yard with her, just shooting the shit. I'm really going to miss her.
I'm also going to miss our poor house, which was in such a terrible state when we bought it; it smelled awful, had been so abused. We moved so many rocks out of the yard! We tore down the carport and a rotting, rickety, cinder-block-footed spa enclosure in the back yard. We sanded down and patched the redwood siding. We slept on a mattress on the floor when the girls were small. We had no real kitchen for 18 months. There wasn't a surface in that house that we didn't touch. Slowly, its beauty reemerged.
I had cancer in that house. Our daughters learned to walk in that house. I earned tenure in that house. Jeff studied for his license in that house. We were patient in that house: that's probably what I'll remember the most.
It's time. Farewell, Napa!
Friday, February 14, 2014
Doors Closing, Doors Opening
Moving 87 miles away from one's job, counting on the don't-gotta-be-there-40-hours-a-week nature of academe has a drawback: if you ever thought about transitioning into academic administration, forget about it.
Say an opportunity comes up to head a new writing center. Say you are the ideal person for this job. Say you're a little tired of the 4-4 grind, and would love a bump up in salary. Say you're getting close to retirement, even, and your pension is calculated by the highest three years of your salary....
Ain't gonna happen when you have a 90-minute commute. I'm working through this newly closing door. I may be an academic for life.
Don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining. I just dislike having fewer options. It's a byproduct of survival mode, the setting my brain seems to be stuck on.
What I'm trying to do, now, is trying to accept that a new door is opening (or reopening): that of art. I spend a lot of time avoiding creativity, or channeling it into things like home decor. Why not write?
Because who wants to hear what a privileged white girl from NorCal has to say? Aren't we tired of hearing about white people? I'm tired of hearing echoes of hegemony in everything I read. I don't think I'm that unique, and I'm certainly lucky. I'm so lucky I'm starting to get paranoid about safety. Gross! Can I write something that anyone could relate to? Today, I don't think so. I can't imagine it. I'm going to work on this.
I need to be a little more friendly towards uncertainty, overall. Jeff and I have lived our lives in economic lockdown since we moved back to California. Our moves have been careful and boring. It's cost me. Our house is beige inside, with beige trim (speaking of home decor). It's oppressive. No more beige.
I'm reading about some privileged white writers and the chances they took. Some had no choice, due to wars, mental instability, poorly-timed childbirth, whatever. I have choices; now I have to choose chance.
Say an opportunity comes up to head a new writing center. Say you are the ideal person for this job. Say you're a little tired of the 4-4 grind, and would love a bump up in salary. Say you're getting close to retirement, even, and your pension is calculated by the highest three years of your salary....
Ain't gonna happen when you have a 90-minute commute. I'm working through this newly closing door. I may be an academic for life.
Don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining. I just dislike having fewer options. It's a byproduct of survival mode, the setting my brain seems to be stuck on.
What I'm trying to do, now, is trying to accept that a new door is opening (or reopening): that of art. I spend a lot of time avoiding creativity, or channeling it into things like home decor. Why not write?
Because who wants to hear what a privileged white girl from NorCal has to say? Aren't we tired of hearing about white people? I'm tired of hearing echoes of hegemony in everything I read. I don't think I'm that unique, and I'm certainly lucky. I'm so lucky I'm starting to get paranoid about safety. Gross! Can I write something that anyone could relate to? Today, I don't think so. I can't imagine it. I'm going to work on this.
I need to be a little more friendly towards uncertainty, overall. Jeff and I have lived our lives in economic lockdown since we moved back to California. Our moves have been careful and boring. It's cost me. Our house is beige inside, with beige trim (speaking of home decor). It's oppressive. No more beige.
I'm reading about some privileged white writers and the chances they took. Some had no choice, due to wars, mental instability, poorly-timed childbirth, whatever. I have choices; now I have to choose chance.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Update
We're still on schedule to put our house on the market come Feb. 1. Since I last posted, we have completed the last major renovation on our house, a giant pergola to block out the view of the apartments over the back fence. Until last week--for the last five years--we could have staged Shakespearean plays for the benefit of our neighbors, who could--and sometimes would--peer down from their bedrooms onto the floodlit back steps of our house. This was not a selling point; as a matter of fact, it was kind of a deal-killer for us when we bought the house, and one big reason why we got it so cheap. Unfortunately, it was not an easy or cheap problem to solve, but we have solved it. I now can look out the back door and not be subjected to this week's NFL game on a wide-screen, coming from an upstairs window. I could seriously watch a game from my kitchen!
The only thing left to do is paint the attic stairs and dining room floor, the last vestiges of the crazy lady who owned the house before us. Her dogs started peeing in the corners of the room, and she did nothing to stop them.
This house was a mess when we bought it, and it looks 400% better now. Last night we burned the last of the carport that we tore down a few years ago.
The sweat equity will hopefully pay off.
Other news: my mother has been informed that we are moving in with her, and the most amazing thing happened! She started cleaning out her barn, so we can move into it and not be so up in her affairs. Once the inner walls were knocked down, we saw that we'll have about 600 square feet to work with, which is 600 sq. ft. of our own space, so I'm happy. All I need is a bed and a table and a bathroom.
We went ahead and had our mountain driveway rocked, which involved tearing out and replacing a damaged culvert (the road would get squishy in the winter--no bueno) and smoothing out a roller-coastery hill that would require a four-wheel-drive to navigate. The driveway had been a 100-year-old logging road originally, so the work was mostly cosmetic. At the end of the driveway was an outrageously long mobile home that had not fared well in the 1989 earthquake. That was crunched up and removed, too. What a difference! Behind it we found a wall of ferns!
As Jeff and I marveled, another thing occurred to us. Now that the MH was gone, the fact that it was surrounded on three sides by VERY TALL, HOUSE-CRUSHING REDWOOD TREES became even more evident. We had always planned to put our house in that spot, as it has a commanding view of what I call "the meadow." I imagined being able to look down on my semi-dwarf apple and pear trees as they bloomed their white fluff in the spring...but when I added to this the ever-present anxiety of being flattened...well, we decided to move our building site.
We started imagining every giant tree's deadly radius (about 100 feet), and that pretty much limited us to building at the bottom of the meadow. This is a place we had never considered, though once we did consider it, the benefits went beyond just not being killed. The only southern sun we'll hope to get is down there, which makes my dream of having a sun-room possible. It might even afford us some solar energy, though I'm not super optimistic about that. We are, for the record, at the bottom of a north-facing hill, deep in a forest.
Jeff and I took some stakes down there and tried to lay out a 2500 sq. ft. house for kicks. I don't want a house that big, but whatever. We will have to remove some smaller trees, including the only two oaks we have, but unfortunately the oaks aren't doing well (oaks in general aren't doing well in California, these days), so I'm willing to cut them down.
If we do build in that spot, the front of the house will be surrounded by California buckeye trees, which I love, even though they smell like sperm (really!) when they bloom. The septic tank will be downstream from the spring, and the ground is level, so engineering shouldn't be too much of an issue. There is a beautiful uphill view of two (safely distant) groves of redwood trees. Yay!
To be continued....
The only thing left to do is paint the attic stairs and dining room floor, the last vestiges of the crazy lady who owned the house before us. Her dogs started peeing in the corners of the room, and she did nothing to stop them.
This house was a mess when we bought it, and it looks 400% better now. Last night we burned the last of the carport that we tore down a few years ago.
The sweat equity will hopefully pay off.
Other news: my mother has been informed that we are moving in with her, and the most amazing thing happened! She started cleaning out her barn, so we can move into it and not be so up in her affairs. Once the inner walls were knocked down, we saw that we'll have about 600 square feet to work with, which is 600 sq. ft. of our own space, so I'm happy. All I need is a bed and a table and a bathroom.
We went ahead and had our mountain driveway rocked, which involved tearing out and replacing a damaged culvert (the road would get squishy in the winter--no bueno) and smoothing out a roller-coastery hill that would require a four-wheel-drive to navigate. The driveway had been a 100-year-old logging road originally, so the work was mostly cosmetic. At the end of the driveway was an outrageously long mobile home that had not fared well in the 1989 earthquake. That was crunched up and removed, too. What a difference! Behind it we found a wall of ferns!
As Jeff and I marveled, another thing occurred to us. Now that the MH was gone, the fact that it was surrounded on three sides by VERY TALL, HOUSE-CRUSHING REDWOOD TREES became even more evident. We had always planned to put our house in that spot, as it has a commanding view of what I call "the meadow." I imagined being able to look down on my semi-dwarf apple and pear trees as they bloomed their white fluff in the spring...but when I added to this the ever-present anxiety of being flattened...well, we decided to move our building site.
We started imagining every giant tree's deadly radius (about 100 feet), and that pretty much limited us to building at the bottom of the meadow. This is a place we had never considered, though once we did consider it, the benefits went beyond just not being killed. The only southern sun we'll hope to get is down there, which makes my dream of having a sun-room possible. It might even afford us some solar energy, though I'm not super optimistic about that. We are, for the record, at the bottom of a north-facing hill, deep in a forest.
Jeff and I took some stakes down there and tried to lay out a 2500 sq. ft. house for kicks. I don't want a house that big, but whatever. We will have to remove some smaller trees, including the only two oaks we have, but unfortunately the oaks aren't doing well (oaks in general aren't doing well in California, these days), so I'm willing to cut them down.
If we do build in that spot, the front of the house will be surrounded by California buckeye trees, which I love, even though they smell like sperm (really!) when they bloom. The septic tank will be downstream from the spring, and the ground is level, so engineering shouldn't be too much of an issue. There is a beautiful uphill view of two (safely distant) groves of redwood trees. Yay!
To be continued....
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Tilting!
As in, leaning towards...or doing something crazy a la Quixote. We have a new big secret. Which isn't really new, but it is big, and will be secret for the next six months. But I'm going to tell you.
We're going to try to move to Santa Cruz by the end of this school year.
I should have built up to it more, I know, and there is a lot you don't know because I haven't blogged much. In the last year, Jeff and I went through the motions of putting on our big-boy pants by deciding to stay in Napa for the long haul...like until the girls finished grade school. We were just so exhausted by the cancer, the twins, the job situations, that when our house started becoming a home, we thought maybe we should just quit while we were ahead. Good loan, good house (mostly), good school, (my) good job, happy kids. Everything great, right?
Except that all the work on our place in SC was going to crap. Why we moved from Texas in the first place was fading. Our dreams of waking up in the forest every morning, of welcoming friends into our sanctuary, of peace and many hot baths...was going down the drain! I guess I didn't realize how much I was mourning...and so was Jeff. Jeff's job, in the meantime, was getting more and more miserable, with no real alternative in our small town. He's looking for a good reason to eject.
It's a big job. Road, well, power, geological surveys, architects, contractors, drains, etc. Lots of time and $$$. I didn't think I had it in me. I think I was letting my fear defeat me. And driving my kids to school in the beautiful vineyards, with fucking hot air balloons like some 70's cliche in the distance, wasn't helping. Now, if we were still suffering in Oakland, it would be a different story. We are in one of the nicest small towns in Northern California, for my money...but it's not Santa Cruz.
Never mind that the mountains are long overdue for a major fire, and that everything we built could fry. Never mind that I have a somewhat contentious relationship with my dear mother, whom I love, but who often gives me heartburn. Never mind that the SC mountains seem to be the haven of the libertarian right these days.
Another factor that's been bugging me is that the public school system in Napa, after fifth grade, absolutely sucks balls. We were looking at private schools, which cost unspeakable amounts of money per year. Fries my little Scottish heart to think of that.
Meanwhile, the schools in the mountains are awesome, forever. All the way up to college. And they're free.
And our house in Napa is done, and we will make some good money on it (I think), which will get us started on the infrastructure. And interest rates are so low, we can get a decent construction loan.
And we can live at my mom's house (don't tell her--she doesn't know this yet) while we build. Yeah, that's a little, difficult detail that this 44 year old doesn't like AT ALL. However, it would be temporary, and the girls would get to hang with grandma a lot (they don't see her too much), and etc. I can suck it up.
It's going to be very hard, and my commute will be--87 miles each way. But dammit, I'm tenured, and I've paid my dues, and I teach a lot online if I want to, so there. Hence the secret.
I'm telling you because you are my dear friends, and part of the reason for this decision is so we can share this beautiful place with you and your family, for the rest of our lives.
I have no regrets about anything I've done in my life. I'm proud of that fact. I think, though, that not doing this would create a regret. This is the last big hard thing I will push for, will suffer for, will put my marriage and my kids through. I've had time to think, I've gone 180 degrees the other way, and it's come up wanting. I'm not a Napa country club type, which was where we were heading. My penchant for polarfleece and doghair was getting in the way. I want to chop wood and rake, learn how to take apart the engine on the VW, make apple cider, play the piano, save the redwoods, write some tennis commentary and maybe a memoir. I want my daughters to run through the big stumpy old growth with large dogs, and dig up artifacts. I would like to become the area historian, and push for a swim and racquet community center on Summit Road.
Anyway, I'm excited and scared. We're crazy, but we're going to try and go for it!
We're going to try to move to Santa Cruz by the end of this school year.
I should have built up to it more, I know, and there is a lot you don't know because I haven't blogged much. In the last year, Jeff and I went through the motions of putting on our big-boy pants by deciding to stay in Napa for the long haul...like until the girls finished grade school. We were just so exhausted by the cancer, the twins, the job situations, that when our house started becoming a home, we thought maybe we should just quit while we were ahead. Good loan, good house (mostly), good school, (my) good job, happy kids. Everything great, right?
Except that all the work on our place in SC was going to crap. Why we moved from Texas in the first place was fading. Our dreams of waking up in the forest every morning, of welcoming friends into our sanctuary, of peace and many hot baths...was going down the drain! I guess I didn't realize how much I was mourning...and so was Jeff. Jeff's job, in the meantime, was getting more and more miserable, with no real alternative in our small town. He's looking for a good reason to eject.
It's a big job. Road, well, power, geological surveys, architects, contractors, drains, etc. Lots of time and $$$. I didn't think I had it in me. I think I was letting my fear defeat me. And driving my kids to school in the beautiful vineyards, with fucking hot air balloons like some 70's cliche in the distance, wasn't helping. Now, if we were still suffering in Oakland, it would be a different story. We are in one of the nicest small towns in Northern California, for my money...but it's not Santa Cruz.
Never mind that the mountains are long overdue for a major fire, and that everything we built could fry. Never mind that I have a somewhat contentious relationship with my dear mother, whom I love, but who often gives me heartburn. Never mind that the SC mountains seem to be the haven of the libertarian right these days.
Another factor that's been bugging me is that the public school system in Napa, after fifth grade, absolutely sucks balls. We were looking at private schools, which cost unspeakable amounts of money per year. Fries my little Scottish heart to think of that.
Meanwhile, the schools in the mountains are awesome, forever. All the way up to college. And they're free.
And our house in Napa is done, and we will make some good money on it (I think), which will get us started on the infrastructure. And interest rates are so low, we can get a decent construction loan.
And we can live at my mom's house (don't tell her--she doesn't know this yet) while we build. Yeah, that's a little, difficult detail that this 44 year old doesn't like AT ALL. However, it would be temporary, and the girls would get to hang with grandma a lot (they don't see her too much), and etc. I can suck it up.
It's going to be very hard, and my commute will be--87 miles each way. But dammit, I'm tenured, and I've paid my dues, and I teach a lot online if I want to, so there. Hence the secret.
I'm telling you because you are my dear friends, and part of the reason for this decision is so we can share this beautiful place with you and your family, for the rest of our lives.
I have no regrets about anything I've done in my life. I'm proud of that fact. I think, though, that not doing this would create a regret. This is the last big hard thing I will push for, will suffer for, will put my marriage and my kids through. I've had time to think, I've gone 180 degrees the other way, and it's come up wanting. I'm not a Napa country club type, which was where we were heading. My penchant for polarfleece and doghair was getting in the way. I want to chop wood and rake, learn how to take apart the engine on the VW, make apple cider, play the piano, save the redwoods, write some tennis commentary and maybe a memoir. I want my daughters to run through the big stumpy old growth with large dogs, and dig up artifacts. I would like to become the area historian, and push for a swim and racquet community center on Summit Road.
Anyway, I'm excited and scared. We're crazy, but we're going to try and go for it!
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Is Anybody Out There
That's ok if not. It's been a year and a day since my last post (father, have I sinned?).
I hate October. For sure. Between Halloween and Jan. 1, I'm good. Then from then until the first burst of spring, I hate it again. Which pretty much sums up the whole month of February (sorry, sis). It only took me 43 years of going through this before realizing how bad seasonal affective whatever you call it gets for me. The shortening of days. The coldening of days. The long slog to warmth. The other day I went into a butterfly exhibit at Six Flags and it was about fifteen degrees warmer. My whole soul went YAH. That was a little shocking.
Lots has happened, but it's been of the going around in circles and ending up only slightly differently positioned since last time I checked in. Jeff has outgrown his job in the way Lucy has her size 3 jammies. We've cut the feet off, and the fabric is starting to wear thin in the knees. Yet. We'll see what happens with that. My job, fine. Still in the house, with more improvements. Girls are well ensconced in kindergarten at the shishi school across town. I drop them off normally looking more unwashed and grumpy (I imagine, anyway) than the other parents. They are learning to read (cute!).
It feels as though a gear has changed and things are easier, though time is passing faster. I will be 44 in a few weeks. I've lost 10 pounds! I gave up flour and milk. That was it.
Other than that, I'm feeling the usual restlessness/despair of fall. Blech.
I hate October. For sure. Between Halloween and Jan. 1, I'm good. Then from then until the first burst of spring, I hate it again. Which pretty much sums up the whole month of February (sorry, sis). It only took me 43 years of going through this before realizing how bad seasonal affective whatever you call it gets for me. The shortening of days. The coldening of days. The long slog to warmth. The other day I went into a butterfly exhibit at Six Flags and it was about fifteen degrees warmer. My whole soul went YAH. That was a little shocking.
Lots has happened, but it's been of the going around in circles and ending up only slightly differently positioned since last time I checked in. Jeff has outgrown his job in the way Lucy has her size 3 jammies. We've cut the feet off, and the fabric is starting to wear thin in the knees. Yet. We'll see what happens with that. My job, fine. Still in the house, with more improvements. Girls are well ensconced in kindergarten at the shishi school across town. I drop them off normally looking more unwashed and grumpy (I imagine, anyway) than the other parents. They are learning to read (cute!).
It feels as though a gear has changed and things are easier, though time is passing faster. I will be 44 in a few weeks. I've lost 10 pounds! I gave up flour and milk. That was it.
Other than that, I'm feeling the usual restlessness/despair of fall. Blech.
Monday, October 15, 2012
OMG! A Blog Post!
I'm writing this because I'm having one of those days where I am utterly uninterested in work. Utterly. Very difficult to fake that I don't want to read another piece of freshman composition, or agree/disagree with the president at the staff meeting, or be a conduit of information, etc. etc.
All in all, I'm having a good year being senate chair...so far. Today, however, I could just as easily chuck it all. Today would have been a good day to get the girls off to preschool, then go back to my clean house and drink coffee and read all day long.
Anyway, here's where we are right now: looking for a job for Jeffy. There might be one at my school, and there are most definitely two positions at a campus in San Jose. As the leads come in, the applications go out, but I am preparing myself for The Move, whether it be this spring or next. Jeff has dealt with the inevitable living-with-the-mother-in-law thing (I think the $3500 a month rents have gotten his attention), and I am slowly shifting my books from our storage space to my office, to make room for--possibly--furniture that we'll need to store while we build our house. All decorating work on our current house has stopped, even though the place is becoming really cute and actually lived-in-looking.
Rosa and Claire were here last weekend, which was wonderful in that soul-recharging way, and we walked down to our place to have a little looky-round. It is becoming more real. It is also a bit terrifying...this creating something from nothing.
The girls are excellent. Excellent girls.
I've joined Pinterest, if anyone is interest. My handle is drbucket. There you can see what a big fan of clutter I am. It seems that all I want to do is organize: books, pictures, spices, etc. That's ok. You is what you is.
Health is good, albeit the weight thing. At least I'm thinking about an exercise regimen....
All in all, I'm having a good year being senate chair...so far. Today, however, I could just as easily chuck it all. Today would have been a good day to get the girls off to preschool, then go back to my clean house and drink coffee and read all day long.
Anyway, here's where we are right now: looking for a job for Jeffy. There might be one at my school, and there are most definitely two positions at a campus in San Jose. As the leads come in, the applications go out, but I am preparing myself for The Move, whether it be this spring or next. Jeff has dealt with the inevitable living-with-the-mother-in-law thing (I think the $3500 a month rents have gotten his attention), and I am slowly shifting my books from our storage space to my office, to make room for--possibly--furniture that we'll need to store while we build our house. All decorating work on our current house has stopped, even though the place is becoming really cute and actually lived-in-looking.
Rosa and Claire were here last weekend, which was wonderful in that soul-recharging way, and we walked down to our place to have a little looky-round. It is becoming more real. It is also a bit terrifying...this creating something from nothing.
The girls are excellent. Excellent girls.
I've joined Pinterest, if anyone is interest. My handle is drbucket. There you can see what a big fan of clutter I am. It seems that all I want to do is organize: books, pictures, spices, etc. That's ok. You is what you is.
Health is good, albeit the weight thing. At least I'm thinking about an exercise regimen....
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