Retiring to the Frontier: Part 1

Our friends back in Southern California have said they couldn't see themselves moving out of state to someplace completely new and at first I couldn't, either.  I'd spent all but my first five years in suburban Orange County, California, a childhood, adolescence and young adulthood filled with trips to the beach, to shopping centers (and later malls), a five to fifteen minute drive to whatever I wanted or needed. Orange groves dotted the landscape between postwar housing tracts, and that was all we needed.

Moving to rural inland SoCal in our mid twenties for T's first teaching job took some adjusting. Farther from the beach, from stores and from our friends, it was now a 37 mile drive to college, where I was finishing my degree and teaching credential. but getting to Orange County was a smooth 30 minutes on a good day, not that big a deal. We liked living in our little yellow house on the hill, looking out over the citrus groves, red tailed hawks circling overhead, the manic sounds of coyotes howling and yipping into the evening darkness. We were spoiled for country living.

By the time we were ready to retire, our country life had been spoiled. Horsethief Canyon Ranch and Sycamore Creek housing developments moved in where citrus groves had been. I missed the scent of orange and lemon blossoms on my drive to work, and my 12 minute drive to work became 30 minutes, then 40 minutes, until finally I planned for an hour just in case the freeway had a problem. It took forever just to go grocery shopping, fighting the traffic, finding a parking space, waiting in long lines. Errands took hours. Cars clogged the roads. We were living in the fastest growing area in the country.  Where it had always been hot in inland SoCal, now it was also humid since the new homes had grassy lawns with automatic sprinklers watering nonstop. And I don't do hot and humid very well.

 So we knew it was time to move,  looked around, and found we could afford to live in New Mexico, a place we had visited so often it felt like home. It helped a lot to have Southern California Edison purchase our little home for a project that has never been completed.

Our new 'hood is census designated as "frontier, " which means we're far from hospitals, food sources and jobs, with around three persons per square mile.

This is the first of three posts introducing our frontier and how we adjusted to a different culture, found new people and became much more self reliant.

Good To Be Back Home Again

When we left for Southern California a couple of weeks ago, I thought, "Gee! It will be warmer there, so let the fun begin!" Instead, the weather was record-breaking in its coldness and it even snowed not too far from Trudy's place where we were staying under the carport in our little teardrop trailer. And it rained, too. My flip flops remained in the suitcase.

Of course, as soon as we got home, the Cali weather recovered and temps were a balmy 75 degrees. Just my luck!

It was still a good visit and Trudy was much better after having picked up a vicious flu bug at our place during her Thanksgiving visit. Thanks to excellent nursing from Pattie and with Z's weekend respite care, she's back in the game and once again beating me at Words With Friends.

After a brew pub dinner and night spent with brother K and sis-in-law J at their Isabella casita, we headed back to NM, provisioned ourselves at Trader Joe's and drove north.

Now we are home and it's time to declutter and get rid of the dust rabbits (they are bigger than dust bunnies) which have accumulated since Thanksgiving. (I had the flu, too, and then there were Christmas presents to make and to buy and then it was time to go!)

And there is sewing and quilt making to do, AQS Quilt Week in Albuquerque, a Growing Dome to plant, and an Arctic Front coming in.

 Let The Fun Begin!

California Dreamin' With A Little Mad Max Just To Make It Interesting

It was a week ago that we returned from a two week family and friends visit to Southern California, bringing our flu bugs to a new climate and time zone. I hope they enjoyed their stay.

We had just enough time and stamina to bring in the groceries we picked up at Santa Fe's Trader Joe's and store the perishables before we took to our bed, fever dreams and all.

My best fever dream was a dusty, post apocalyptic Mad Maxian video game scenario. When I coughed, mud huts blew up.

When I wasn't having bizarre dreams, I looked at this photo.

That's Newport Beach on a weekday in January, uncommonly warm for a California winter, with a few people lazing on the sand, a killer view of Catalina Island on the horizon. It was a "best time" among the good times we had during our visit. That's MBB going out for a polar bear swim on the right.

Here in Northern New Mexico, it's warmer than usual, too, and the flu bug has flown, leaving us with a nasty cough and weak constitutions.  Ms. Pearl and I may go on a little walkabout today to check out the ranch and breathe some fresh air.

Oh, yeah. I think I will empty the Trader Joe's bags still there on the kitchen floor, too.