And Now the Sky Really is the Limit. Well, Almost.

There is a damn good reason I haven't posted in a month. And here it is: for the past three years my entire familia (parents, siblings, and most recently, Jack's sister) has been working towards moving to the country with us. Yes, you heard right. We actually wanted to end up in the same town. And after much deliberation, we all agreed that the central coast of California would do just fine. Ocean, wilderness, seasons sort of, open space, smaller towns, and wine. What else is there to consider?
And so J and I, along with my parents, began our bi-yearly recon missions. Three years ago. J and I threw down our "go" date about a year ago, because if we know anything about human nature, it's that we are creatures of habit and not overly inclined to risk and change. Moving for no other reason but the betterment of the soul is not an American value. To most, it's downright crazy. Especially for a couple (us) who have no complaints about our present situation. We both love what we do. We love where we live. We have everything at our fingertips living where we do in Orange County. It's all so easy and comfortable. Why would anyone want to move away from something so decent? And that is exactly why we knew we needed a deadline. If nothing is pushing us out, it is easy to stay and stay and stay. All of the sudden you forget your dream in this sea of comfort (or is it complacency) and wake up 20 years later living in the same place, doing the same job, eating with the same people. That is something J and I promised each other we would never do. So we knew enough to set a date, and that date is September 1, 2012. We shared this with the family, and all tacitly agreed that we would at least attempt to head out around that time. That was a little over a year ago and we have spent all of our time, resources and energy on moving to the central coast ever since. J sold his bar. I told my school I won't be returning in the fall. We didn't renew our lease for September. I have sold clothes, given away jewelry - this is serious.

Jump forward to about a month ago. My mom gets a call from my sister in which the following statement was made (dramatic reenactment): "R and I and the kids have decided that it is best for us to take the first job offer he gets, no matter where it is." Two weeks after that: "We are taking a job in Northern Washington." One family down. Right around the same time, my brother and his wife announce: "We are thinking about going overseas for a year or so to teach English." Two down. Then J's sister: "We would love to move, but we can't leave our jobs. Maybe in five years or so." Three down.

Enter this scene: J, myself, mom and dad sitting at our table staring at each other. Our worlds literally turned upside down in a matter of weeks. Crickets. Then, slowly, someone musters up The Question: "What now?"

Would It Really Be All That Bad?

So, if we can actually afford a spit of land in the California Central Coast area (our last trip would probably not be called "encouraging"), there is a 1 in 1 chance that we will have just enough money to crawl onto our property with the fumes left in our tank, and then cozy on in to our 23", 1963 (both those numbers are probably wrong) Airstream. Here is what it looks like as of yesterday in Laguna Canyon.
I know the photo is super fancy (god bless super fancy smart phones), but still...would living in this cute little thing really be that bad?

And here is the backside in Joshua Tree a few months back...

Some Darn Good Advice From My Posts Thus Far...

Nat C. wants me to make sure not to "move to where the corn fields are." Very thoughtfully, she doesn't want us getting attacked by the "children of the corn." What would I do without you, Nat? Well, probably get attacked.

Magali is a true animal lover: "Don't move anywhere too cold or too hot. If it's too cold, your cows will freeze. If it's too hot, your sheep will sweat." Enough said.

Sophie is a country gal at heart, too. Thanks to her knowledge of the farm life, I now know about "Hobby Farms" magazine. It is amazing to me that there is literally a magazine for everything. Thanks, girl. I'm on it!

On the Hunt...

So as promised, I am posting an update about our recon mission in the San Luis Obisbo area this week (though we've been here 3 days already and this is my first post, so I'm doing a pretty shoddy job thus far). We are up here with our two small dogs and Jack's sister and brother-in-law with their three HUGE dogs, camping in our Airstreams at a place called Lopez lake. And this explains my lack of postings; this lake is miles and miles from anywhere. My freaking smart phone doesn't even work. It's cold, smells like fall, looks like a landscape painting by one of the American Romantics, and I have seen no less than 15 deer, 139 cows, 37 horses, 13 gigantic turkeys (don't think they realize it's Thanksgiving), 24 ducks, 17 quail (those freaking birds fly fast), and I guess because it's a campground for trailers, about 100 dogs and exactly 1 cat.
Yesterday we drove all over the Arroyo Grande countryside, literally stopping at every single "For Sale" sign we passed. Because we are looking for a good sized property, none of the signs are anywhere close to the actual house/property (they are posted on the main highway otherwise no soul on earth would ever see them), so you have to turn up the road and drive, sometimes for miles on one-lane roads, to find what is actually for sale, which will be marked by another "For Sale" sign. The weird thing about those signs around here, though, is that out of driving up about 13 roads, we literally only saw two...TWO...signs. So after driving on dirt roads to the end of the earth 13 times, our diligence and long suffering resulted in two finds, one of which looked like a hideout for serial killers.
Perhaps tomorrow we will have more luck. Damn back country realtors.

Choose Now. Choose Well...

i was just reading an article in Vanity Fair about the botanical hallucinogen, ayahuasca, found in Peru, when I came across this quote: It's in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped. Choose now. Choose well. - Anthony Robbins
I'm not really sure why this quote is attached to an article about a crazy-strong botanical drug that makes you throw up everytime you take it. Is the author saying to choose well and take the drug, or choose well and don't take the drug?
 Anywho, vomit-inducing hallucinogen or moving to the country, this is damn good advice and exactly what Jack and I are trying to do. If we never choose, our destiny will shape us. Too many of us succumb to such a fate, and I think this is due to our fear of 1) the unknown, and 2) choosing badly. The thing we fail to realize though, is that by not choosing at all we are choosing badly because we aren't "the captain of our own ship." And the unknown is only terrifying if we make it so; if we decide to view it, instead, as an exciting part of the journey of life, it looses all power over us. And that is a wonderful feeling.

Post Numero Uno - The Why

There are a few reasons I am starting a blog (what does that word even mean?) for this move, not the least of which is the loss of my fancy Italian leather journal in which I would have chronicled this journey had I not lost it. So there's that. And then there is Hunter's suggestion. Hunter is a senior in my Comparative World Religions class and when I mentioned to him that I wouldn't be returning next year and the reason why (buying a spit of land with my love), he asked if I would consider creating a blog so my students could all follow me from afar. My first reaction was, "Oh, Hunter, that's silly. Who would want to read about digging up tree roots and shooting rogue attack squirrels?" But then I lost my fancy Italian leather journal, so I thought, what the hell...
And given that it was one year - to the day - that we are making our great exodus, well, it doesn't take a rogue squirrel (or maybe the captain of the rogue squirrels) to see the sense in this blog. And so here we are. Or maybe I was right in my first reaction to Hunter and I should actually be saying, "And so here I am" since you may not be here at all. Which is totally fine, and Hunter, even you shouldn't feel bad if you're not reading this because none of this would be happening if it weren't for that damn fancy Italian leather journal.