In Search of the Comfort of Home

It’s moving day. I can’t begin to express how excited I am. Except for a short period of 7 months, I have been without “home” for 2 years and 10 days. It’s my own choice of course. There are many reasons to be home-less. I may even consider it again at some point in time which is what makes apartment renting somewhat attractive.

Originally, I preferred to try to purchase something small so I wouldn’t have to do this move thing again. The house in Arizona hasn’t sold so purchasing one isn’t an option right now. It’s expensive to move, to say the least and time-consuming. Pack it up, then unpack it, then pack it up again. I’m really good at it if you need help with your move. I was bragging to someone yesterday that when my last husband and I moved from California to Arizona, I packed and moved 40 thousand pounds worth of our “stuff”. Books weigh a lot. The only thing that broke was something I had not packed myself. We had a yard sale before that move, selling $3,000 worth of “stuff”. That’s not counting what I talked him into giving away.

I wanted to simplify our lives only to wind up with more of the same. My move to Oregon, alone, was with a rented 26 foot truck. Now I will live in 1000 square feet rather than 3000. At 64 years of age, that’s enough to take care of while having the time to pursue more creative endeavors.

After spending over 50 years cooking, cleaning and caregiving, which I thoroughly enjoyed, I have reached the point where I want my home to be a place of comfort for myself as well as my guests. Now, I think that can finally be done. I have learned in the last two years to say NO. Doing it my way is now an option. I can put up my favorite artwork where I want to see it. The lights can be on when I want them on because I’m paying the bill. I can have my windows open for fresh air. That’s why they invented quilts, isn’t it?

What makes your residence a home? I have moved over 30 times in my life so home is almost a foreign concept. Is it a place you park your “stuff”? Can it be more than that? Especially if it’s an apartment and not a home you own. My grown children don’t even have that sense of “home”. We moved quite a bit when they were young though my daughter went through school in almost one neighborhood. Home was not the comfort zone I had hoped it to be.

My daughter said a home is the place that reflects your inner self and nourishes the soul. In doing so it helps you to heal. My last apartment was small, dark and a bit chilly but it gave me time to do nothing but heal. As many people as I manage to talk to, no one has ever heard of Bells Palsy manifesting in the way it showed up for me.

I’m hoping to make new friends to invite to my home; where we can share ideas and laughter. Maybe teach a niece or two to sew, quilt or embroider. I’m looking forward to finding out what my Style is. Of course, it appears to be what I’ve scrounged from here and there but soon my real style may surface. How did you discover your style? I’ve been looking on Pinterest for mine but can’t seem to duplicate what I think I like at the thrift stores. I’ll keep looking though.

My new place has a nice “feel” to it. Is that what makes it comfortable? Is it the bottle of wine in the fridge to make a toast and celebrate another milestone in life? I look forward to hearing from you.

“I had spent my whole life feeling homesick. The only difference between the two of us was that I didn’t know what or where home was.”
― Marian Keyes, Lucy Sullivan Is Getting Married

From my heart to yours,
Marlene

In Search of a Little Peace and Inspiration

I’ve been lazy this week or maybe it’s just sagging motivation.

Next weekend I get to move into my own apartment. You can’t even imagine how excited I am after living for the last year on family member’s futons or sofa beds. The lack of major responsibilities has aided in the healing process. People who have not seen me in the last year remark how much better I look and sound. Their observation reinforces that there is still hope for complete recovery from two and a half years with Bells Palsy. The last doctor I saw gave me no hope.

Last weekend my daughter drove the two of us to the Newport Beach here in Oregon. I’m specific because I know there is one in California. We made a quick stop for hugs in Albany at my niece’s and then visited several quilt shops in the surrounding area for a little quilting inspiration. I found a Christmasy Log Cabin quilt on Pinterest that I’m anxious to start. It amazes me that each quilt shop is so very different. Albany has a less than inspirational store. Lebanon and Corvallis, Oregon had bright, cheery places with lots of finished quilt items and fabric to inspire for years to come. I believe they reflect the owners taste in quilts and fabric choice. The quilt shop in Newport Beach was almost not worth the stop unless you are looking for a little beach themed fabric.

The first place I wanted to visit in Newport was the Sylvia Beach Hotel. I had the pleasure of staying there once several years ago. It’s technically a bed and breakfast that also serves dinner if you want it. Every room is named after a different writer. The dinner menu is listed as “Chapters”. There are books available to borrow if for some odd reason you forgot to bring one and there are quiet places to sit and read or to do your own writing. It sits right on the edge of the beach so the sound of the surf will lull you to sleep each night or sit and peacefully write your next chapter of your own book or life.

Newport happened to be cloudy and quite cool as we took off shoes and socks to walk along the beach. I watched as my feet would sink down into the sand but as soon as I lifted it, the footprint disappeared. It was as though I had not even been standing in that spot. The earth has a way of showing us how fleeting we are on it. I chose not to spend the money for the Sylvia Beach Hotel this time though my free night at the La Quinta was more than comfortable.

Maybe after I’m all done paying the expenses of another move, I will save enough to spend a week there. It’s a good place to find both, peace and inspiration. Even one quiet day and night at the beach can do that. For me, peace has been essential to healing while inspiration is essential to life itself. We all find both in different ways. How do you find your peace and inspiration?

“Inspiration is God making contact with itself.” ~ Ram Dass

From my heart to yours,
Marlene

In Search of Celebration

Today is my 64th birthday. I’m a little late in posting this weekend because I have spent the entire weekend celebrating my aging in unusual ways. Many think that we would not care to celebrate getting older, though I feel that each passing day is reason to celebrate. I’m still here and have another opportunity to make some difference in the world.

This lifetime has been a spiritual quest for me. I’m one of the many who question my reason for my very existence. The answer is still a bit elusive so it remains a quest. I am not speaking of religion though that was where my search started. It has a much broader spectrum now. Most days the question has been; how can I serve my world? Now it includes the question; how can I celebrate my life while serving.

Friday, I took the bus to our local mall. The driver is starting to recognize me. I did the early morning speed walk before the stores opened followed by an ice tea break then an hour or two in the bookstore. It’s where my sister-in-law always seems to catch me with her long distance calls. I think of her when I enter and sure enough, when I’ve found a quiet corner to browse, her call comes through. You can’t tell me telepathy isn’t real. Works every time. I found several great books and treated myself so I could add them to my personal lending library, The Traveler’s Gift and The Noticer by Andy Andrews. Small in size, they are wonderful in content. They are a little help down the spiritual path.

I think there were at least six laps around that mall and several of them carrying books. So when my daughter picked me up after her early off day at work, we had a nice salad for a late lunch going home to read.

The next day my sister and her girlfriend wanted to take me somewhere I had not been before. Knowing my love of books, I was chauffeured to Multnomah County’s resale library in Northeast Portland. I picked out several wonderful books at an outrageously low price and my sister and friend made them a gift. The library makes a little for newer books. I was then taken to a lovely little pie shop where we sat in the sun and had wonderful conversation while watching people and their pets stroll by. The weather was PERFECT! We then all ambled through the one and a half-acre fabric store in Southeast Portland on our way home. I did go home empty-handed but inspired.

Today, my daughter and I had a lovely breakfast then drove to a local park to go Earthing. That’s a fancy word for taking off our shoes and socks and walking barefoot in the grass. It’s reconnecting with nature at its finest. I would never go barefoot in my son’s back yard because of all the stickers and lack of grass. Portland has lots of grass and everyone is welcome to stroll on it. That’s especially nice for all of us apartment dwellers. Nature feeds me just like a good meal with family and friends. That will be how I end my birthday.

We are going to a favorite German restaurant to have a good German meal and one cold German beer. Yes, I’m half German; the rest of me just likes any kind of food. When I get home to my daughter’s this evening, we will get more time to read and talk about the creative endeavors that we want to undertake this year. How much better can it get? Why is food such a big part of our celebration and our memories? If I celebrate much more, I’ll need larger clothes for my next birthday. I’ll toast to all of you tonight.

Laughter is the sun the drives winter from the human face ~ Victor Hugo

From my heart to yours,
Marlene