Anniversary
One year ago today I was on an airplane moving to Boulder. Funnydad and daughters had come ahead, leaving me an un-populated house to prepare for sale. And leaving me plenty of time to brood about Change, the nature of Home, and just how the hell we were going to sell our house in a declining real estate market. The house sold lickity split for our full asking price, which I took as a good omen.
A year sounds like a lot when you say it out loud, but it's really short when you live it. Here I am a year later trying to make some sort of sense of it all, realizing I'm not sure there is sense to be made. Boulder is a great place to live, no doubt. About its only major drawback is that it's so far from family. Everything else agrees with us: the weather, the community, the culture, the politics, the geography, our quality of life, even the availability of ethnic food. So then why don't I feel all nestled in and not new anymore? And what does that even mean?
We've done a lot: learned our way around, learned about western issues like water rights, and learned Rocky Mountain facts (for instance, there are 54 mountains 14,000 feet in elevation or taller in Colorado -- "fourteeners." One of them is in Boulder County: Long's Peak. Another: the tree line -- above which trees don't grow -- is generally 11,000 feet.) We've sussed out the good playgrounds, a handful of good restaurants, hikes kids can take, and figured out what one actually has to go to Denver for (the airport, the zoo, Korean food, and The Container Store). We've both learned the basics of rock climbing, funnydad has a racquetball partner, I have a book group, we have a garden. Just today a friend asked if I wanted to join a women's hiking group. But you can't prove a place is home with a list, and that gut feeling is still not registering Boulder as "Home." It's where we live. It feels more like home than anywhere else right now -- Minneapolis has faded and a recent visit to New York showed us that The Big Apple will always be familiar, but it's not home anymore either. So.
We'd been in Minnesota for 20 months when funnydad started talking about conducting an out-of-state job search. I still felt new when those conversations began, though I remember thinking, "okay, so this is as 'at home' in Minnesota I'm going to get," because it was clear we were leaving the land of 10,000 lakes. Last weekend I ran into three people I knew in Boulder while I ran errands -- that's never happened before, and to me it's a sign we're becoming entrenched. So there are signs, and there's a growing feeling. But "new" takes a long time to wear off. "Home" takes a long time to settle in. "New" starts so abruptly; "Not New" doesn't. I'm not sure when I'll know Boulder is truly home, but like Jesse Helms and por*nography, I'll know it when I see it. ( And why is "not new" and "home" the goal anyway? Why can't I enjoy the journey?)
As for this blog, I'm going to keep going. When I began it I wasn't sure I'd like it which is why the top says "Our first year in Boulder, Colorado." Blogs felt crazy vain to me, totally narcissistic (and perhaps they are) -- hey, I'm so important, read about ME -- but it turns out they can be a lovely way to keep in touch with family and friends in far corners of the country. And, it turns out, I enjoy blogging. So keep reading, and I'll let you know when the balance tips to make Boulder truly Home.
A year sounds like a lot when you say it out loud, but it's really short when you live it. Here I am a year later trying to make some sort of sense of it all, realizing I'm not sure there is sense to be made. Boulder is a great place to live, no doubt. About its only major drawback is that it's so far from family. Everything else agrees with us: the weather, the community, the culture, the politics, the geography, our quality of life, even the availability of ethnic food. So then why don't I feel all nestled in and not new anymore? And what does that even mean?
We've done a lot: learned our way around, learned about western issues like water rights, and learned Rocky Mountain facts (for instance, there are 54 mountains 14,000 feet in elevation or taller in Colorado -- "fourteeners." One of them is in Boulder County: Long's Peak. Another: the tree line -- above which trees don't grow -- is generally 11,000 feet.) We've sussed out the good playgrounds, a handful of good restaurants, hikes kids can take, and figured out what one actually has to go to Denver for (the airport, the zoo, Korean food, and The Container Store). We've both learned the basics of rock climbing, funnydad has a racquetball partner, I have a book group, we have a garden. Just today a friend asked if I wanted to join a women's hiking group. But you can't prove a place is home with a list, and that gut feeling is still not registering Boulder as "Home." It's where we live. It feels more like home than anywhere else right now -- Minneapolis has faded and a recent visit to New York showed us that The Big Apple will always be familiar, but it's not home anymore either. So.
We'd been in Minnesota for 20 months when funnydad started talking about conducting an out-of-state job search. I still felt new when those conversations began, though I remember thinking, "okay, so this is as 'at home' in Minnesota I'm going to get," because it was clear we were leaving the land of 10,000 lakes. Last weekend I ran into three people I knew in Boulder while I ran errands -- that's never happened before, and to me it's a sign we're becoming entrenched. So there are signs, and there's a growing feeling. But "new" takes a long time to wear off. "Home" takes a long time to settle in. "New" starts so abruptly; "Not New" doesn't. I'm not sure when I'll know Boulder is truly home, but like Jesse Helms and por*nography, I'll know it when I see it. ( And why is "not new" and "home" the goal anyway? Why can't I enjoy the journey?)
As for this blog, I'm going to keep going. When I began it I wasn't sure I'd like it which is why the top says "Our first year in Boulder, Colorado." Blogs felt crazy vain to me, totally narcissistic (and perhaps they are) -- hey, I'm so important, read about ME -- but it turns out they can be a lovely way to keep in touch with family and friends in far corners of the country. And, it turns out, I enjoy blogging. So keep reading, and I'll let you know when the balance tips to make Boulder truly Home.
Comments
i love that feeling of seeing people i know when i'm out and about. that is a big part of feeling like home--that and knowing people who run the shops where i go. i'm guessing that boulder will feel like home soon. regardless, i'm proud of you for all the changes you've handled, and so well.
hard to believe it's been a year, though. i can't believe i haven't *visited* in a year. boo me.
My sister (M+O's old babysitter) gave me the link to this website when you moved -- a year ago -- and I have, in my own quiet way, shared with you the ups and downs and adventures that you post here. My sister always told me that "Oh, I wish you could meet Jennifer! I know you two would be friends!" I have always thought she was right.
Your stories and adventures are fantastic, and as I embark on my own re-homing adventure (Germany?!?) alone, I know I will look back on your postings as a template of how I'd like to be: brave, insightful, and above all, hopeful.
Thank you!