We moved out of our apartment in Santa Barbara last weekend.
Well, mostly out. There are still a few things at the old place and it needs to
be cleaned up, so a part of me is still there.
When we moved from the Bay Area to Santa Barbara, I had a
hard time finding a place that would fit our needs. There are only two of us
but I wanted to be sure there would be room for family when they came to visit.
I’ve always wanted the home that my kids and grandkids could
come back to and a one-bedroom apartment wasn’t exactly my dream home. But we
made it work.
I started writing this post about five times now and couldn’t seem to get past the first few lines. Forgive me if I ramble or it seems disjointed.
The last six weeks have been filled with so many highs and lows, I can hardly keep it all straight. In June, I was riding roller coasters with my granddaughters in Legoland and Sea World laughing and have a great time.
I didn’t realize at the time that my own personal roller coaster ride was just starting.
I’ve loved cherry pie every since the first one my mom made for me. We picked sour cherries each summer in Michigan and mom would make the best pies from those cherries. The funny thing is, I can’t seem to find one that tastes like hers. And I’ve searched, believe me, and so has my family.
Last year I finally went back to Michigan to see my family. We tend to see each other during times of stress or for funerals and I needed this visit to just be about spending time with them. I’m pretty sure it had been twenty years since I’d been back and I was excited to see my sisters at the airport waiting for me.
I didn’t intend to be in another relationship at 20, but there I was living with a man in a tiny home in Bend Oregon. I met Joseph in July of 1979 and by the fall of that year we were living together.
It only seemed natural to move my belongings and my cat in with his belongings and his cat. I had a kitten named Joe when we met and it didn’t take long before my boyfriend’s name became Joseph instead of Joe.