Teton Valley Times ~ A Tribute

In 2003, I left San Diego after 10 wonderful years of city and beach living to move to a town called, Victor, ID, popluation 800-ish. WTF? Was I crazy? What would I ever do with myself? I was a country girl at heart who had pretty much ALWAYS lived in the city. This would be interesting. Upon arriving, I first noticed the obvious, the absense of street lights created the darkest nights I'd ever seen. There was space, space and more space, no traffic, beautiful scenery and wildlife and this rustic little bar called the Knotty Pine. In off-season, a good night at the KP consisted of myself and a handful of other patrons, at best, and one bartender. It was at this bar that my life began to slowly transform. I started meeting people from all over the U.S. who had for one reason or another just ended up in Victor. People would say, "Oh ya just moved here, you must need a fresh start, right? Searching for something, maybe?" I guess I was, along with many people I ran into in that little bar for a milion different reasons. In the most simple terms, people often ended up there to remember how to live. This concept, at the time, was completely foreign to me. I can't tell you how many times I told the story of my 8 to 5 government job just over the Teton pass to the look of shear disappoinment sitting across from me. "You mean, you only get to snowboard on the weekends? You drive to Jackson, every day, like 5 days a week? Really?" It wasn't just in the winter either. I got the same reaction no matter the season. People of all ages were living to the fullest every day and making life about adventure, sports and hobbies instead of careers and money. Even after my friends started having babies, those little infants were soon skiing with them in little ski baby backpacks. By age two they had their own fresh pair of skis. They were fishing and hiking and camping from the time they could crawl and they were loving it. I couldn't believe it. I remember feeling embarrassed that I was so lame and had this totally repsonsible job while my new friends were working just enough to support their passions. It was also there that I was first introduced to the idea of living without TV. WHAT? Another anamoly to me. How could you possibly live without all of those primtime addictions sent faithfully to your living room on a nightly basis? Wouldn't I be deprived? Truth is, people there were out making their own stories and adventures, much more real than any silly reality show, more comedic than the average sitcom. I didn't understand this life at first but I instantly envied these free spirits and this awesome zest for living. Through them I found a new zest of my own.

I decided that I'd pick my sport and perfect it to my own ability. Now, I lived amongst some of the best skiers and snowboarders in the world so I knew I was on a different playing field from the beginning. Even so, I was going to do my best to make snowboarding my life, even if I could only swing a weekend warrior status. And so my new life began. And what a ride, literally. I fell in love with snowboarding so much so that after one of my best seasons ever, I hadn't had enough so I planned a trip with my dear friend, Jenn, to Argentina to find snow in summer and ski the Andes Mountains. Another fear conquered, mission accomplished. Yes! What an awesome adventure. The truth is, my life there was always filled with adventure. It was there I met some of the best friends I've ever known. I'd love to write a little story about each and maybe I will one day. They have all shaped who I am, as has that special little place called Teton Valley, Idaho.

I hear my little valley calling lately in the wake of recent tragedies there. Two wonderful people I've known for years prematurely lost their lives a few weeks ago. Friends and family will forever wonder why they left, but no one would ever think to question if they really LIVED. They did, more than most, every single day.

God bless you, Andy and Silker. Thank you for showing so many what real living is all about.

Blessing to all of my dear friends in Teton Valley. I will be back. Until then, keep on living the awesome lives you're so lucky to enjoy!

Welcome to America!

My best friend from high school, Lindy, buys me a subscription to REAL SIMPLE magazine for Christmas each year. Obviously, the title alone is right up my alley but I honestly never really read the articles as much as I looked at the pictures and read the "simple" explanations of how to make life easier, which I loved! The articles, for some reason though, just didn't catch my eye or maybe I never made the time for them. A few months ago she and her family ended up moving to the little town I call home these days, Valdez Alaska.

For Memorial Day weekend we took a little drive up country to a small lake for a camping weekend. It was a lovely, lazy, sit around all day camping trip that gave me plenty of time to read. If only I had brought a book. Lindy was thinking ahead, at least more than me, and brought her magazines and even had some issues that I hadn't received.I took my kayak out on the glass surfaced lake after a nice late breakfast and did some "REAL SIMPLE" reading.
The articles were great! I couldn't put it down! I sat out on that boat for over an hour and read the whole thing cover to cover. I left that trip thinking, I've got to go dig up all of my past issues of this magazine and catch up on some reading, quick!

My most recent SIMPLE read leads me to a new blog inspiration. There was an article about six women from six different countries who had recently become citizens of the United States. They were asked to write a story about why they had made this decision. Every story was different, every situation unique. The only common thread in each was their love of America. This was such a welcomed reminder. I hate to admit it, but over the last couple of years I had become a little wary of the good ol' U.S.A. The economy, war, environmental frustrations, processed foods fattening Americans, increases in mortality rates...I could keep going but the point is obvious. I was growing tired of a country that I grew up loving. Being raised by parents who originated from West Texas I was born patriotic. I get chills when I hear the National Anthem. I cry when I see Americans atop the winners podium in the Olympics. One of my most vivid and beautiful memories was a site seen on a favorite road trip I took of a tattooed biker riding his Harley across the Midwest. He had a large American flag flowing in the wind from the back of his bike. Miles of yellow wheat fields filled the land scape that enveloped him. His long braided pony tail stood straight as an arrow behind the knotted bandanna that wrapped around his head as if pointing to the stars and stripes of that flag. I remember thinking, now, that's America if I've ever seen it. It screamed FREEDOM to me as loud as that silent moment alone would allow. I loved it. I also love Willie Nelson as if he were a family member. :)
Current times and repetitive frustrations had given me reason to question my innate love of this country. Had my innocent trust and admiration all been in vain? Had the haters of this country and its people been right after all? All of these questions forcing themselves into my psyche were irritating to say the least which makes this article a perfect find. It instantly reminded me of my new friend, Magdalena, who moved to the U.S. 11 years ago from Poland. She just got her citizenship this past March. Since I've become friends with her she has reminded me of how good we often have it here. She has an eye for making money and for making it in general in this country. She sees opportunity at every turn. She reminds me in her attitude and presence alone that we need to appreciate what we do have. She comes from a country where struggling economically is a constant, not just a few years out of an otherwise very plentiful existence. People expect to be broke, not comfortable. They expect little opportunity and certainly not a land chock-full full of it. That very thought was a recurring theme in most of the stories I read in SIMPLE. Everyone of those women moved here for a better life. And even in 2010, they were able to find it.

My innocence a bit tainted, I stand cautiously but am proud to enjoy the positives of my homeland instead of focusing on the negative. I'm thankful to this article and my new friend who subtly reminded me that there are millions who'd give anything to be here. Far from perfect, there are still many reasons to love the U.S.A. Why do you love this country?

Now, that's American:

MY NORTHWEST WORK-ATION





I first visited the northwest in 1993, the exact month escapes me but, that trip will forever remind me of a distinct feeling I’ve yet to replicate. It was a feeling of home, being content, inspiration, and wellness. I remember it like it was yesterday, walking the streets of Seattle, staying with my mom in downtown, and just feeling this calm I’ll never properly define. Strangely, it was like I was supposed to be there.
Luckily, I have had the opportunity to return to the northwest several times since then and my most recent visit was nothing short of wonderful. I arrived at the SeaTac airport late Friday night or early Saturday morning to be accurate. I won’t mention the following 3 AM drive to my cousin’s house. It didn’t go exactly as planned but I arrived safe and sound, ready to begin my work-ation (work/vacation). I call it this because technically, I was there for business but in my heart I was on an escape mission to my beloved Seattle.

My cousin is a staple in my life, a person embedded in my earliest memories. He and his partner live on Magnolia Hill in Seattle and both sell real estate. They are just a hoot together. I laugh so much when I’m with them and just love being at their home. It’s reminiscent of being at a spa without the rock massages or facials. The back yard reminds me of a Japanese garden.

The interior of the house is tranquil and relaxing with the Asian inspired décor and neutral colors. Kelly is quite the host, always has been, so when I arrived he naturally wanted to know what I most wanted to do in Seattle. Though there are a million wonderful things to do I’d honestly be pretty content with a bottle of wine and just time to relax in this beautiful setting. It is extremely different than my present, much to busy life, in Valdez, Alaska, where time for reading, writing, and relaxing seem like a last priority. Nonetheless, I was in my favorite city in the U.S. It was time to explore. We headed out for breakfast in Kel’s Lexus SUV. Rick met us there in his convertible BMW. I mention the car details only to point out the obvious. Their lives are quite different than mine. I love the feeling of luxury, not that I’m envious but being here in this way just makes you feel pampered, even when you are doing next to nothing. We have some great meals together, great conversation and then, like that, it’s time for me to head to Tacoma for training. Prior to this trip I had heard only two things about Tacoma. One, from my hair dresser who cautiously told me “Tacoma is icky. I was at a mall there and witnessed a fight and a gun was pulled and everyone hit the ground. And the other comment, “Well, the city used to be negitavely associated with the smells of paper mills and was fittingly labeled, The Aroma of Tacoma. But, I hear they've cleaned that up now. It will be fine.” Cousin Kel. Great, what was this going to be like? Can I just stay in my Seattle sanctuary and take the week long class on line? I was less than thrilled about leaving what seemed like paradise to me for a rotten egg smellin’, gun slingin’ city. But, off I went.

Like, most unknowns I’ve been apprehensive about, I was pleasantly surprised with the reality of Tacoma, a quaint little college town filled with coffee shops, cute neighborhoods, and art galleries. I didn’t notice any unfavorable aromas and never once felt threatened by the people there, however, I never once visited the mall. The University was just gorgeous with old Tudor style buildings and perfectly manicured grounds. Just like Seattle, everything was green and lush and just lovely. On the contrary, it was far from luxurious, far from affluent but, it was just fine, comfortable, and inviting. The neighborhoods remind me of parts of old neighborhoods in San Diego that border downtown. 1920s or earlier architecture, small, but charming. Pretty yards and narrow streets. The dorms were dorms with tiny rooms but with a common area in each suite. A full kitchen and couches made up the shared space which was quite nice compared to my days at the dorm. But, the biggest attraction to this happy little campus was its progressive approach to living. The cafeteria which I had originally dreaded was so diverse. There was something for everyone but most importantly most produce and fruit were organic and locally grown.
There was a vegetarian option for every type of food and half way into my trip they opened a Vegan grill that served breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Imagine that. Vegan food three times a day! The recycle efforts at UPS were state of the art as well. For the few items that couldn’t be recycled, bins for their disposal were cleverly labeled LANDFILL instead of TRASH. Makes ya at least think about it, right? Classes were good. Fellow students were nice. But, the overall experience of being “in college” again in an entirely different fashion was just icing on the vegan cupcake. I loved it there.
Upon leaving UPS I headed back to Seattle for another 2 days with Kel and Rick and like always, it was quite the treat. Rick made us some yummy nachos for dinner before we headed out to see the ballet in downtown Seattle. I was going to the ballet for the first time, with two gay men, how perfect! This is going to be fabulous. And it was. The new McCaw Hall was just gorgeous and the ballet was so incredible. I was very impressed with the live orchestra and the beautifully built sets. The dancers were amazing and the story very sweet, very unique. What a special time. I remember sitting there thinking I should have made a career out of something like this. Not, that my clumsiness would have ever allowed me to be a ballerina. But, I could have played an instrument and been in that orchestra. I could have been a set designer and created that beautiful stage. Hell, I could have been a painter and painted the props, whatever. I should have been creative is the point. And here I am working for municipal government. How did that happen? :)
Saturday was filled with shopping and lunch at the grill in Nordstrom’s. Kel and I each had the tastiest salads, soup, and of course great bread! We talked and laughed about our family, a subject that is always good for a lot of humor. I don’t think we could possibly run out of stories to tell and memories to recall. These moments are always the highlight of my visits with Kelly. I just love remembering things we’ve shared and the deeper look at our Texas roots we often explore. Not, that we are less than proud of our family or upbringing but the reality of how different our lives are now is always good for an hour or two of conversation...minimum. Upon our return home, I decided to grab my laptop and head out to that Japanese garden with a glass of wine and take a stab at describing this trip. And there I was, enjoying the last few moments of my never-to-disappoint-trip to the lovely Northwest when Kelly showed up with wine refill and two homemade cookies. How thoughtful!

If that wasn’t enough he then announced that we’d be staying in for a quiet lobster dinner at home out on the back deck. The Cash-Finer Spa is a five star joint in my book! Too bad, it’s a completely private resort…. :)

the meaning

this blog inspiration falls in my lap nearly a year to the day of making one of the most extreme moves of my life. extreme in that i'm approximately 4000 miles away from my nearest relative, besides my husband and dogs of course. extreme in the 330+ inches of snow my little town receives at sea level each year, extreme in raw and untouched beauty unlike any other landscape witnessed in my life, extreme in ultimate humility.

simple.
simple in my new trailer-ific digs. simple in the freedom of limted possessions, limited responsibilities. simple in the shortest commute to work in my entire working or college career. simple in what makes me smile each day. simple in what defines a fun night out or in for that matter. simplicity in just being.

in pondering these thoughts I realized that i kind of live my life this way. not that i'm super hard core or extreme by any means but that i live life loving extreme differences in people places and things for sometimes the simplests reasons.

life is simply, damn good, a lovely pleasure filled ride of highs and lows so often found in stories depicting love and the fondest of memories, not to mention nostalgic country tunes cryin' about inescapable and often unrelenting heartbreaks. The paradox just makes sense to me and seems more than fitting to write about.

My forever love, life....from simple to extreme...