Are we there yet?

I got out of bed in a terrific mood the other day. That may have been due in part to the funny dream I had about me and my mother moving into an apartment - I don’t dream about my parents very often and it was nice to see her again.

But the real reason? It was gloriously sunny. And despite my blackout shades I can tell even before I open my eyes whether it’s sunny or gray out there.

I’ve lived in Oregon for more than 30 years, which is odd, because I HATE the rain. And for those of you in friendlier climes, you should know that it rains here approximately 153 days per year. And yes, many cities get more actual water falling from the sky than we do here, but honestly, it’s not really about the precipitation, at least not for me.

The more interesting statistic, to my mind, is that we average 222 cloudy days per year.

WTF? It’s cloudy two thirds of the year? No wonder I never feel productive. I’ll admit that lots of those days include ‘sun breaks’, as the weather predictors call them. So it’s not always unrelievedly gray, but even those days make you feel nuts. How do you plan your OOTD* when it’s drizzling, pouring, sunny, and hailing by turns?

I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder; quaintly acronymed SAD. And yes, it does make me sad to live in a gray, gray world. (Funny that I named one of my children Grey. The name came to me in a vivid dream when I lived in San Francisco. Make of that what you will.)

I didn’t mean to end up here, in fact I kept leaving Oregon but something or other always brought me back. Ultimately it was circumstance that kept me here; namely, children and an ex-husband.

Now that those kids are grown and more or less launched, I should be able to move to the sunniest place in the world. (Arizona, Chile or Egypt, apparently.) But here’s the problem: I don’t know anyone in the sunniest places! I have a dear friend who lives in Hawaii, which while not always sunny, is at least tropical and warm when it’s not.

But that’s awfully far away from my kids and the community I’ve built here.

Well, built may be a strong word for it. I’ve lived here for a long time, and I’ve known many of my friends here for upwards of 30 years. I’m not sure I can lay claim to constructing my social scaffolding but I occupy it and it’s hard to leave it behind.

So here I sit, more or less cursing the darkness while refusing to take a Zippo to my Dolly Parton votive. But while I love solitude, the idea of moving myself far from those who are dear to me is daunting, to say the least.

But maybe that’s just logistics; there’s also the very real idea of having a home, and what that means as I get older and my family slips away from me one by one.

When I was young I wanted to be on the move. I left for boarding school at 14 so I could try living a new life in a new place. In college I eschewed spending a semester in Italy, which was my mother’s idea. I went to Kenya instead. I wanted further, stranger, more foreign than I thought I’d find in Europe. After college I traversed the country several times and drove to Guatemala with a group of friends.

I thought I’d have a different life, one spent poking around the interesting corners of the earth. But I landed here, and here, for various reasons, I have stayed. For better or worse it is my home. And much as I yearn to follow the sun, something feels wrong about walking away from home.

So, in the modern spirit of doing and having it all, I’m determined to stay home AND to leave, simultaneously. Isn’t that what technology is for? Can I keep Portland as my home, but leave during those five, or maybe seven, or, well, perhaps nine, months when the weather drags my spirit to the ground?

Perhaps. Still, the question remains: where to go?

Maybe crowd-sourcing is a reasonable strategy. Where would you live if given the chance? Do you live there already, or dream of making your way there someday? Help a fellow life traveler out! And if you’re up for a visit (just an hour, I swear) let me know. I might just come rolling in one of these days.

OK, love you, bye!

Julia

*Outfit of the day.

Related?

I keep wondering how on earth people came to live in the less appealing climate belts. Early human migration! It’s fascinating. Not surprisingly, much of it comes down to where the food was. In this case, herds of tasty beasts.

Recommendation!

The next best thing to having travel adventures is reading about them. In fact, it can be even better, given the catastrophic things that can happen when far from home. Like landing in a glacier-fed river in Iceland.

This is maybe the best travel book I've ever read. Full Tilt, by Dervla Murphy. [affiliate link]

Per Library Journal: "This book recounts a trip, taken mostly on bicycle, by a gritty Irishwoman in 1963. Her route was through Yugoslavia, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and ended in New Delhi. She carried a pistol, got sunstroke, and suffered the usual stomach disorders. She endured bad accommodations but reaped much local hospitality, too, including a dinner with the Pakistani president."

I particularly loved her rhapsodic descriptions of Afghanistan. She found the people there to be the most welcoming in the world, despite what they'd suffered at the hands of invaders. And this was in 1963.

The B-52's have miles to go before they sleep, and so does this email. Forward it to someone seeking adventure.