“How’s California?” “Good, warm, we have lemons in the back yard.”
I’ve been having this exchange often, so for anyone who wants more detail…
Since we moved from England to California last autumn, there have been two major seasons in the San Francisco area. 1) Rain. So much rain. Epic-drought-ending rain. Accompanied by many, many drips of thoughts about how I’d rather be in rainy Cambridge if it was going to rain all the time. This era also included the brief interlude of Election, which further drowned my spirit. 2) Allergies from all the happy flowers that loved the stupid rain. Billions of bright showy flowers. Not the sweet little English snowdrops in chuchyards that signal winter’s end. No, absolutely fascinating and eye-scouring pink bottlebrush, orange poppies, yellow sourgrass and mustard. It was a never-ending flower flu.
So, I’ve been at a disadvantage in enjoying my new habitat. I’ve been exhausted, snot-filled, depressed, homesick for England, homesick for the east coast, and just generally blah.
But I feel the new life growing. Not like gaudy spring flowers. (I secretly adore them but don’t want to reward their pollenous behaviors.) But like our first-ever garden with its knobbly green tomatoes and awkward rows of kale. Life-veg includes: funny geeky new friends, blue skies, free toes in sandals, magical little bits of San Francisco, hills, our kitschy neighborhood, open-armed Unitarians, and churros.
It’s not a bold leap into the future, but I’m crawling that way. I’m starting to feel less overwhelmed, more inspired to make some necessary changes. There are events to look forward to. And supportive friends. And fuzzy cats.
That’s the skinny. Or would be, except for all the churros. Let me know if you have any questions about life in sunny (hah) California. Now that I’m emerging from hibernation I also want to share more sailing stories from last summer – the Captain is returning to Newfoundland soon to sail Rincewind back to the Chesapeake Bay. Stay tuned for adventures old and new.