My home town

Having grown up as an Air Force brat, I never really had a home town. I happened to be born in California, and we were stationed there a good bit during my childhood, but we lived in different places so I never had a place I felt I was "from." When someone asked me, I explained about moving around a lot. In the early 1970s when I was ready to plant myself somewhere permanently, I adopted Boulder as my home town. I lived there from 1975 until 2008, more than three decades.

When Smart Guy and I looked ahead to retirement, it wasn't easy to decide where to live. I knew I had to leave Boulder behind, because it tied me to old ways of being, and ever since I met him, when he was living in San Francisco (which he loved), I wanted to head with him back to the west coast after I retired from my workplace. Back in February, I wrote here about how we ended up in Bellingham.

Today I'm looking at what it's been like, more than two years later, living here. First of all, I've carved out a new life that is full to the brim. It contains everything I ever thought I wanted, but part of that is because I'm not the same person I was in Boulder. I am now a Washingtonian, and I'm different now. We are shaped by our environment in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

I need a social group to be happy, and the almost-daily classes at the Y have provided one aspect of that need, while the Thursday hikes with the Senior Trailblazers have provided another. The skydiving aspect is provided by the Drop Zone in Snohomish, and when we show up there, we are welcomed by our peers. I like the fact that skydiving is seasonal here, because it gives me a time to let it fade into the background, while in Boulder I was at the Drop Zone every weekend that the weather allowed, year round.

Because of my Trailblazer group, I learn about Washington's incredible natural beauty that I never would have discovered on my own. During our day-long interactions, I also have learned things about my new home town and environs that I would have missed. Dan told me about the Skytrain in Vancouver and how to use it; two of the women, Linda and Peggy, invited me to join their Saturday morning walking group and I've met new people there. I would have been there yesterday but I was in Snohomish jumping out of airplanes.

Riding the bus has also broadened my social group. Many of the bus drivers know me and greet me by name, or wave to me if they see me walking on the street. It's a good feeling to belong here now. When I ride the bus to the Y, I see the same people get on and I know their routines and miss them if they are not there. We chat sometimes, and I know some of their names and have even joined a Facebook page or two. When I walk into the coffee shop where I quaff my daily latte before class, I've become a "regular" and know the other regulars by name. We also visit and chat. One guy, Gene, and his parrot have become my friends. He's a fisherman who brings me some of the best sockeye salmon I've ever tasted. This picture shows Smart Guy, Gene, and me at the Farmers' Market in the springtime. Notice that he's obviously a native, we are bundled up and he's in shirtsleeves.

One person, Judy, who I met in class at the Y has become a good friend, and we go to movies and out to dinner together. We are the same age and I enjoy her grandchildren, as I also enjoy hearing about and visiting the children and grandchildren of my blogging buddies. The blogosphere and my two blogs fills the need to keep my mind active.

Writing all this down makes me realize why I am so content to be a Washingtonian. It's not often that we experience the kind of heat that has kept the rest of the country sweltering, although we do get some hot weather. Yesterday the high temperature broke another record. The previous high for the date was 84; yesterday it got to 88. I know this doesn't sound very hot for those of you stuck inside with much higher heat and humidity, but that's not normal for the Pacific Northwest, especially here on the coast. Just a few miles inland and it's much hotter.

And there's you, my faithful readers. You join me and I look forward to your comments. I follow your lives on your blogs and suffer with you when you have trials, and rejoice with you when you are happy. Thank you for joining me in my other home town, Blogaritaville.