Lazy Week....

Another quiet week with little to report but yes, I am still here and still alive and well.

I'm not sure if it was the weather or what, but I just haven't had much interest in going out and exploring this week. I've been sleeping well, thank goodness, and have morphed into a rather strange sleep pattern that I've fought in the past, but which actually seems to work for me. My drowsy times are generally in the early evening -- 6pm-9pm, or thereabouts. I've fought this because it seemed counterproductive to sleeping well during the night. Lately, with little real reason to worry about having to get up in the morning -- no work! -- I've just relaxed into this and if I doze off while watching a movie, I don't fight it. Oddly enough, it revives me just a bit and then I settle in to watch another movie before getting drowsy again and actually sleeping through the night. Big stuff, for an old insomniac like me.

One would think that sleeping well would lead to more energy, but that hasn't been the case. I haven't felt tired, just -- comfortable in my peaceful pursuit of reading and watching movies. I've been a good girl, done my exercising as scheduled and puttered about a bit. But mostly -- I read.

Three wonderful books came my way. First, I finished Riverwalking by Kathleen Dean Moore. This lovely little book is a series of essays that mostly involve the writer's experiences in, fascination with and love of -- moving water. She is wonderfully, beautifully eloquent and aside from the beauty of her words, I was really moved by the beauty of herself and her family, all of whom share her water-borne adventures.

Then, on to Finding Beauty in a Broken World, by the famous environmentalist writer Terry Tempest Williams. This is her latest and I admit that I had some trouble getting into it, but in the end I am SO glad I persevered. After that initial reserve, I couldn't put it down and once again I was moved as much by her personal inner beauty and her long, happy marriage as I was by the story she told.

And then -- the unauthorized biography of Ernest & Julio Gallo, fittingly called Blood & Wine. What a story! I just finished that one today. Go out and buy some JosephFarms Cheese (Google it), produced by Joseph Gallo, the 'unknown' Gallo brother who by all appearances was robbed of his parental inheritance AND blocked from using his own name on the label for his cheese. Incredible.

In the midst of today, to take a break from the heaviness of the Gallo trials, I watched Bottle Shock, a movie that I just loved, but had never heard of. Released in 2008, it's the story of the famed 1976 Paris wine tasting that virtually made the Napa Valley world famous, when a local chardonnay and a local cabernet beat out the best of the French in Paris by French judges. I moved to the Valley in 1979 and this tasting was still a big topic of discussion. Maybe I was moved more because I know the story and the wineries, but even if you didn't, it's still a really well-done feel-good movie about the little guys winning over the big guys. And the cinematography of the Napa Valley is exquisite -- although that could just be Kitty feeling a little nostalgic for days long past.

Aside from books and a lot of movies, I also made a faux Mexican casserole, some banana bread and some yogurt this week. AND I have fought -- and lost -- with IKEA and North American Van Lines regarding my furniture delivery. IKEA is wonderful -- unfortunately the goods are being held hostage by the van lines in Portland until they have a truck coming this way. Last week I was told "Friday", then on Friday I was told "next week" and now this week I've been told "next week" once more. I am not amused.

Alas -- not exciting to write about, but pleasant enough to live. Let's hope for more interesting news next time.

A Lovely Surprise!

I had a truly wonderful weekend and so far, the post-holiday week is trending fairly well also. The sun is shining bright, the air is warm, life is good.

Aside from the parade and other Azalea festival events on Saturday, my best friend from Eugene decided to pay me an impromptu visit on Sunday. Nothing could have been better than that! He arrived mid-afternoon, left Monday morning, and while it wasn't a long visit, we had a great time and I am SO glad that he was here. I needed that contact -- needed to see someone dear and familiar to me. We didn't do much -- a couple of shops to visit in town for him, then lots of good food, good wine and good conversation. I hated to see him go, but more happy that he came at all. So, thank you, my friend. It was wonderful sharing my new home with you.

And speaking of my new home, it's finally beginning to actually feel like home. I expect part of that was because with a guest in the house, I finally needed to use my kitchen for some real cooking, and of course, share the results with someone I care for. I bought some tulips to brighten up the place, and was happy to find them this late in the season. Today, as you can see, they're opening up and still looking quite lovely.

I made a wonderful soup for dinner. A few weeks ago I read in the NY Times web edition about Rancho Gordo, an heirloom bean company down in Napa, and ended up ordering some. Along with the article came the recipe for Rustic Rancho Gordo 'Yellow Eye' Bean Soup. My only complaint is that when you order the beans they come in one pound packages, about 2 1/4 cups of beans, and the recipe calls for 3 cups of beans. I know -- the world has bigger issues. Still, rather than try to re-proportion the entire recipe I used it as-is but with fewer beans. It was wonderful! Anything that has 2 whole heads of garlic in it can't be all bad, really. We enjoyed it with some fresh-baked southern buttermilk cornbread and I have lots left in the refrigerator and freezer for future use. Yum.

I'm heading down to visit friends in Napa soon, and hope to get some more of those beans while I'm there. They're a bit pricey, but worth it. Besides, if they're good enough for The French Laundry (home of Thomas Keller, about the most famous chef and restaurant in the Universe), they're good enough for me. I tried the pinto beans first, and let me tell you, I've had a LOT of pinto beans in my life so I didn't really expect any surprises. I got them anyway. Who knew pinto beans could be so much better when grown and packaged like this, and sold about as quickly as they can get grown and dried. Highly recommended.

I love this bay window in my living room, especially when the sun starts streaming in early in the morning. I tried the table and chairs in the 'dining' area of the room, but it didn't work for me. This works.

I'm still awaiting a call from North American Van Lines regarding delivery of my furniture from IKEA. I can't say I'm happy with them. Last Wednesday the IKEA people checked with them and relayed to me that they had a firm delivery date for last Friday and would call to set a time. When Friday morning rolled around and I hadn't had a phone call, I called IKEA again -- and North American gave them a different story this time -- said they'd be calling me this week for delivery this week. OK, it's only Tuesday and they would have been closed yesterday, but still no phone call. My guess is that my stuff is sitting in a warehouse maybe in Grants Pass or some larger city waiting for a convenient time for them to make the trip over this way -- or a truck headed this way. I'm not a happy camper on this issue, but will continue to bug IKEA as needed. With any luck, by the end of the week I'll be able to show you new pics of the living room. I want my footstool! Everything else is less important.

Anyway -- the sun is shining and the air is warm. Life is good. Stay tuned.....

Quiet Sunday

I'm feeling really pensive this afternoon. Perhaps it's the effect of the book I'm reading, which is Trespass, by Amy Irvine. I've been immersed in it for days and am nearing the end. Is it her personal struggle for inner peace and contentment that's bothering me, or is it her sad but beautifully-written tales of how the desert wilderness in her world of Southern Utah is being desecrated? Perhaps it's both. I've found some sense of connection with her personal plight, even with some of its seeds and perhaps with some of its meaning -- or is the meaning only of my personal plight as it parallels hers? Hard to tell. And, perhaps I'm simply feeling content with my day and that alone has awakened the pensive mood.

It's been a beautiful, warm and sunny day here in Brookings. Since there was no morning fog, I went on a very early walk of exploration of a state park less than a mile from here -- no need to drive, I simply walked down the road. A couple of hours later I returned home and have since spent the day puttering and reading and.... being pensive.

I miss my friends and contacts and yes, even the street people and strangers on the sidewalks of Eugene. I'm much more isolated here -- much less contact with people and I'm needing contact. I could, of course, go upstairs here in the building and no doubt find people in a community room, but so far that has not appealed. Most folks here are a good bit older than I am and not as active and I just don't feel like partaking of the necessary conversation that takes place as people first meet. I get tired of questions, of talking about myself and my past. There's a community dinner next Friday night and unless I get a better offer, I'll probably go to that with my neighbor the artist, who has made the offer.

Lots I want to do this coming week -- check out the local Azalea Park to see if the Azaleas are in full bloom for next weekend's festival; follow a path off the highway in search of a particular beach; and drive back north to Pistol River to walk that extraordinarily beautiful beach and check out the little village of the same name. I also am beginning to itch to ride my bike -- take off on a short trip up the highway to see how strong my biking legs are after a winter hiatus. Busy, Busy, Busy. But -- those are all solitary activities and I think I need to find something less solitary -- perhaps check out the local animal shelter to volunteer. That's been in the back of my mind since I first came down to check the town out, and I need to check it out. My furniture should also be arriving this week, although I don't yet know what date. More Busy, Busy, Busy.

My legs and ankles feel the barefoot walk in the sand -- which is a good thing. More muscles being awakened and used and strengthened.

What to do?

This retirement gig isn't as easy as I thought it would be. Sure, if I'd stayed in Eugene where all was familiar and the only thing that changed was that I didn't have to work, it would have been a piece of cake. But combine that with a move where everything is new and unfamiliar and home doesn't feel like home yet and it's another story.

This is the first day I haven't had a bunch of stuff to do and while on the surface that sounds wonderful, I'm also not quite sure what to do with myself. My mind isn't settled down enough to while away the hours by reading yet. I don't have the energy today to go out and walk or explore. Nothing new I need (or can afford) to order for the house. I can only spend so much time at this computer. Mostly, today I feel like sleeping, although my mind is a bit too restless to allow that. I think I'll walk down the block to watch the ocean. That should cure all ills and remind me why I'm here.

OK.

NOW I remember why I'm here. And I think it's time to take a short journey and spend part of a day on a beach, rather than just looking down at one. By the way -- I learned today that the island in the distance is Bird Island, which is the largest island off the coast of Oregon and is breeding ground for many sea birds, inclucing the tufted puffin. Cool.

Here at last!

This is the view from my bedroom, and also from the living room, minus the deck. As soon as I have the energy (!!) I'm going to fill those holes on the railing with pots of petunias, so I can have that sweet smell wafting into the house.

Yes, as you can see it is a picture-perfect day here in Brookings! Warm and sunny and utterly delightful. Yesterday was the same. Windows open, door to the patio open, birds singing, the occasional raucous seagull. Lovely!

The move went off without incident and I have almost everything unpacked and my car filled with flattened boxes for recycling. "Almost everything" may be an overstatement, but still, there really isn't much left. Most of it will go on the bookshelves and I'm almost ready to do that. Had to figure out how to layout the room, then get the phone/internet setup. Thank goodness for the laptop! I could not possibly have put this desktop together yesterday -- too brain dead. Almost too brain dead this morning, but it's working, and so is the stereo so all is well.

I am SO glad to be here! My heart started singing yesterday when I first began following the Smith River (I cut south into California for speed purposes), and kept singing for miles and miles as the road followed that beautiful green river that has much more water than a few weeks ago. Then a few redwoods, and then a few minutes later the distant blue of the Pacific. This really is where I need to be -- if I had any doubts, they are long gone. I met a couple of men leaving the building this morning with hiking sticks and asked about beach access. There is none here, but they told me how to find a lovely overlook down at the end of the street, and that will be good enough for an evening or morning walk when I need to clear my head. Like right now!

There is still so much to do here -- and yet, the body needs to rest a bit, if I can force the mind to allow that. The kitchen is wonderful! So large, so many cabinets and so much storage space everywhere. Much, much more than the apartment in Eugene. Cabinets are fitted out with glide-out drawers and a swing-out corner shelf. But again, the dishwasher door won't open all the way unless the refrigerator door is open, so it has its quirks.

I'll post more photos of the apartment once I get the boxes cleared out. For now, adios.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life.....

It really hasn't sunk in yet, totally. Still, there have been moments this morning when I reminded myself that the time didn't matter, that when and what I ate for breakfast didn't matter, and that I am free to do whatever I wish today. Each of those thoughts brought a smile to my face and I must say, it feels really good.

My bosses and coworkers gave me a lovely parting party yesterday. Piles of pizza, lots of good wishes. My boss (ex-boss!) is one of those people who has a rather phenomenal knack of choosing gifts that really fit the recipient, with lots of imagination used in the process. I am not one of those people, so I really appreciate her talent. Sometimes, it's a little scary to think how well she knows me. For example, this card is so appropriate -- she said it reminded her of my long ago bicycle trip through the Colorado Rockies. Perfect.


And then there was this lovely surprise gift, for taking to the beach, she said. A perfect self contained thermal wine carrier (including wine!) for two with an over-the-shoulder carrying strap. This is something I've always thought would be terrific to have -- for the beach or????? Now I just need a willing partner in crime to make good use of it. Any volunteers?


And then there was a fabulous and beautiful chocolate cake -- chocolate inside and outside with a bit of raspberry jelly and wonderful spring flowers cascading down the side. I think my penchant for chocolate is well-known, but how did she know that one of my very favorite combinations is chocolate with raspberries? No way!


So thank you, all of you. You know who you are. I'll miss you, but please understand when I say I'm really, really happy not to have to go to work today!

So, onward. Lots of errands today and not many days left to get everything done that needs to be done, but all will be well.

A Beautiful Day's Journey

Lucky me -- I ran into a dear friend at the Farmer's Market yesterday morning and he suggested that we travel up into the Cascades so I could say goodbye to them. I, naturally, was thrilled and quickly agreed, with the request that if possible he show me the Metolius River he'd told me about so often. Thankfully, he agreed. Off we went.

Our first stop was this magnificent waterfall on the upper MacKenzie River -- Sahalie Falls. I've seen it numerous times, and yet memory is never adequate to tell me just how incredibly beautiful it is. I have to be there, see it live and in person, in order to remember. Yes, that is a patch of snow on the right and the path down to the falls was icy and slippery but this sight was well worth the effort. As always, sound would add a great deal to this. I actually used my camera's video option and took a short video of this and maybe I'll try and figure out how to post it here.

There are several other equally beautiful falls and pools nearby, but the path was snowed over and we really didn't have time, so off we went towards the little town of Sisters, where we had a yummy lunch, browsed an equally yummy bookstore, then backtracked a couple of miles to the turnoff to the Metolius. This river is somewhat fabled in Oregon -- it springs full-blown at the base of a rocky mountain called Black Butte, then it travels about 15 miles, enters Lake Billy Chinook, which eventually flows into the Deschutes River and on into the Columbia.

As you can see, the weather wasn't overly cooperative for photography. Our first stop was the headwaters of the Metolius and yes, just to my left was the base of Black Butte and the source of the river. This is how it springs forth from that mysterious source -- full and flowing and equally quiet and serene and peaceful. In the distance a big, pointy snow-capped mountain poked its head out of the clouds for a few moments, but you really can't distinguish the mountain from the clouds here.





We drove on downriver and found this quiet, peaceful and totally beautiful section where we simply sat and absorbed all that peace and serenity for awhile before moving on. That may be Black Butte in the background, but I wouldn't swear to that. The only sounds here were the gentle gurgling of the water, birdsong and sometimes, wind whistling through the trees.

All in all, I could not have asked for a better day and the good news is that even though this was goodbye, it wasn't a permanent goodbye. It'll no longer be a 1-day excursion for me, but it'll still be there and once more I am SO grateful that I decided against Georgia and will remain in Oregon. So -- thank you, my friend, for this splendid, splendid gift.

Here's the video of Sahalie Falls. When I was recording it I forgot that the camera also recorded sound, so you'll hear my voice, briefly. It was also my first effort with videography so in that I leave much to be desired. I promise to do better in the future. Enjoy.

Redwoods, Wild Rivers, Home Again

Capturing the majesty of the redwoods with a camera -- much like capturing the Grand Canyon with a camera -- is truly an impossible task. Yet, the photographer in me is driven to try, always.

I never did find the little cabin in the redwoods this morning, although I found the road and followed the directions I never saw the place. It wasn't in the redwoods anyway, and I didn't feel too comfortable in the little community, so I didn't search too long.

Much like yesterday, this morning's trip was a symphony of nature at its finest. I was tooling along Hwy 199 peacefully en route to the cabin when I found myself at the edge of a deep gorge to the right and far into the distance, at the bottom of which roared an incredible green river whipped with the froth of whitewater. I could have killed for a photo of this, but there was no place -- absolutely no place -- to stop so I had to continue onward and let my heartbeat return to normal. A little further down a lovely old bridge lured me to the right, across the river and down to its side. Beautiful, but without the spectacle of drama of the entire gorge seen at once.


I was frustrated that I couldn't capture all that, but I did get right down to the water's edge and this photo at least shows the pure green color and the incredible clarity of the water. It is, of course, the Smith River, which happens to be the last major free-flowing river in California. If I'd had more time, I could have followed this road way back into the Jedediah Smith State Park and probably better views of the river, but alas -- I had an appointment to see the cabin so off I went. Another time.





A little further down the highway I found another gorge -- smaller and less spectacular, but filled with the green and white water nonetheless. Much like the redwoods, I found the camera and its operator not up to the task of capturing the fullness of this scenery. First of all, you'd need sound -- the rushing roar of all that water tumbling through the narrow sluice, churning and rumbling and echoing off the rocks. And then, a little motion might help. One of these days I'll figure out how to use the video feature on that little camera of mine.




After I gave up on finding the cabin, I drove back down 199 to the Jedediah Smith Redwood Park and stopped a couple of times because I just had to. First of all, I was driven to stop -- and secondly, there was no way I was going to get my body into redwood country without getting my feet on the ground and my hands on at least one redwood.

At my first stop I was greeted with masses of Trilliums, which are always a welcome sight. Such a simple flower, yet so beautiful in its simplicity.






Since there's no way to photograph an entire tree, I find myself drawn to the bark and breadth of beauties such as this -- which is actually rather small by redwood standards but still impressive.

As you can probably tell, the area was still shrouded in the morning fog that is the norm, and which is what helps these big boys grow and survive on this north coast of California. They love this weather.






I love these uprooted monsters, fallen in place, nurturing new generations, the shallow root network exposed to all the world and much taller than I am.

I didn't go in search of the really big trees, nor take any long trails. This was a simple 1-mile path right off the highway that satisfied the need for the time being. I touched a few, sat in the still quiet and just absorbed it all for a bit. Lovely. And a long way from Eugene so I had to hit the road north once more. The good news is that this state park is about a 25 minute drive from Brookings.

Aside from dropping off my rental application in Brookings, and stopping for gas in Coos Bay, this walk in the redwoods was the last time I was out of my car until I got home about an hour ago. Only took about 4.5 hours this time -- because I wasn't stopping every few moments to take a photo! I'm a little pooped again, but it was a lovely trip and a very worthwhile trip.

I don't think Georgia is on my mind any longer.

Brookings

Guess I'm starting at the end, rather than the beginning, of this day but I couldn't resist starting with this photo taken around 4pm on the beach near the Port of Brookings.

It's been a picture-perfect, chamber-of-commerce day on the southern coast of Oregon: warm, clear, sunny and impossibly seductive and beautiful. Come hither, it says, loud and clear and often. And I'd love to answer that call.

The possibilities of things to do in this area are damned near endless, for an outdoor sort such as I. Expansive beaches, tiny river inlets that cry out for exploration, the wild and wonderful Rogue River all of 30 miles away in Gold Beach, wetlands and river mouths to explore in a kayak -- and the scenery certainly can't be beat! The Oregon Coast Bike Trail follows the highway for the most part, but veered off onto tantalizing side roads from time to time that I simply itched to follow. Would love to get back into shape to ride that highway to my heart's content, and I don't think it would be all that hard to do. The California redwoods are no more than 30 miles to the south, so I could visit to my heart's content. What's not to like about this?

Driving down here I tried to figure out how long it's been since I've been in this area, and it has to be at least 8, maybe 9, years. It's a trip I made often when I first moved to Oregon -- driving to Napa, or just to the redwoods -- but it's been much, much too long.

I do remember very clearly the first day I drove up this coast. It was in May of 1996. I'd driven west from Atlanta at a very leisurely pace, stopping for a week at the Grand Canyon, a few days at Sequoia National Park, a week at Yosemite, stopped in Napa and nobody I wanted to see was in town, so I kept driving north up the coast highway. A day in the redwoods and then across into Oregon and jaw-dropping scenery that pulled me into its magic and hooked me forever. It wasn't a pretty day, weather wise. On the contrary, I drove all day in a wild wind and rain storm and wasn't phased by it in the least, other than the effort of keeping my car on the road because of the wind. I simply didn't care -- the coast was/is so beautiful, weather didn't matter. I thought then -- and agree now -- that this has to be one of the most beautiful stretches of highway that exists anywhere. Simply breathtaking between the California border and the town of Port Orford. Beyond that, the road travels inland much of the time up to Florence, but down here, you're right on the water, with all the surf and rocks and nature anyone could want.

Lets start this day at the beginning, more or less. I realized when I hit the little village of Mapleton, just inland from Florence on the Siuslaw river, just how much I really love coastal river estuaries. They sing to my soul, call me toward the peace and beauty that is so natural to them. It wasn't a new realization, merely one I tend to forget until the sight is before me. This photo is Florence, from the Old Town area.

If this is a trip for seeking, for soul-searching -- and it very much is that -- this was the first inkling that I was on the right track. Every inlet, every glimpse of the ocean afterwards simply built upon that inkling. By the time I reached Brookings the anticipation was incredibly high.

I stopped at a variety of towns with ports and river estuaries and thought I'd remember which was which, but I'm afraid that's not the case. I'm pretty sure this is Bandon, but I wouldn't swear to that. Bandon was about where the weather changed from showers to blue skies and warm weather. Well, warm by Oregon standards, anyway. According to my car, the outside temp here in Bandon was 49. The highest I saw it all day was 55, but it felt much warmer, even outside on the beach. The banana belt lived up to its reputation today. I do realize that might all change tomorrow.




I know this is Bandon -- I took a little scenic route from the port area and found this incredible beach. This was definitely the high rent district, and there was a 'for sale' sign on the road where I stood to take the photo. One of the beauties of Oregon is that every mile, every foot, every inch of beach along it's 350 or so miles that front the Pacific Ocean is public property. You can lay out a small fortune and buy a beachfront property such as this, but no amount of money will buy you that beach, or give you the right to control access to that beach. I don't remember which of several far-thinking governors brought that particular legislation to pass, but I'm forever grateful he did.

Not sure where this is. Gold Beach? It was after Bandon and before Brookings, and that doesn't leave many options. That would make this the Rogue River estuary.

I didn't take many photos of the inland side of the highway, seen in the background here. Rolling green hills dotted with sheep or cattle, cranberry bogs around Bandon, lots and lots of farming and living off nature in this part of the world.

And of course, fresh seafood everywhere, for sale right on the docks.



This is the Port of Brookings -- no doubt on this one. I'm really impressed with the overall charm of this little town, particularly with it's waterfront area. There's a lovely boardwalk area with shops and restaurants, a public fishing and crabbing dock, and the lovely beach in photo one above.

Many of the little towns I passed through weren't all that charming. Beautiful natural settings, absolutely, but without the personal, man-made charm of this town.

I could live here. Would like to live here. Now I just need to figure out how. I looked at one place to rent today and was ready to take it sight-unseen just because of the yard and view. Unfortunately, the inside was butt-ugly (think 1960s era Harvest Gold appliances, for starters). It was tiny, with almost no living space and no closet, but it had a shared laundry room with the house in front and I could have gotten creative and made the space livable. I think. There was a nice fenced yard with plenty of space for a garden, a large deck, a fab view of the waterfront/port area below, even an outdoor but glass-enclosed area that would have all kinds of possibilities, year round. So what, you ask, was the problem? Aside from the tiny, butt-ugly inside, I am not enamored of the shared utilities aspect of the place. I've lived in that kind of situation before, and one has absolutely no control over utility cost or usage. I don't use much, but if the other unit does, then I end up subsidizing their usage. I'm not fond of that. Plus, the total utility cost was incredibly high, almost totally offsetting the low price of the base rent. I'm still considering it -- possibly only as a place to land, short-term.

I also looked at a senior housing complex which might be doable. There is an apartment available, although it's at a higher rate than I'd like. The manager wasn't there, and I knew in advance she wouldn't be, but she invited me to go inside, check out the 2nd floor library and 3rd floor rec room, which I did. Both are lovely -- the rec room has an ocean view, large TV, lots of cushy seating, a big kitchen and a couple of exercise machines. I have filled out an application for this one and will drop it off tomorrow. This may be my best bet.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to drive down into California and see the little cabin in the redwoods, which sounds wonderfully romantic, but not overly practical. Still, I'll have a look at it and hug a redwood or two along the way. My heart is pulling me to the coast -- not sure I'd be happy for long in a lonely cabin, even if it is in the redwoods!

I think that's it for now, folks. It's been a long day and I'm crashing but totally happy. And to think -- when I woke up this morning I'd pretty much decided against the trip but an email conversation with a friend in Florida seemed to turn me around. I resisted because of money -- then realized I really needed to do this or I might regret it forever. And I would have done just that!

A Holiday and a Road Trip

My goodness, what a week this has been! Lots of uncertainties, as the last post showed rather clearly. Much of that, I think, was caused by a bad combination of stress and long-standing lack of sleep/rest, which in and of itself causes stress. One of those vicious circles we all hear about.

The good news is that I feel better today, although sleep was seriously missing for most of last night. All the indecision, the stress, are making me look deeply inside and question so much, and I have been narrowing in on what's important to me, what I want and need as well as what I do NOT want and need. It's all good.

Since I have a three-day weekend, I'm going to hit the road tomorrow and drive south down the Oregon coast to the little town of Brookings, just north of the California state line. It's an area I've been drawn to for a variety of reasons -- not the least of which is its 'banana belt' climate. It's a charming little port town, picturesque, and within easy driving distance of the redwoods, and not too far from Napa and even Eugene -- all the places I love about the west coast. It's a great location. I have numerous apartments to look at along the way -- all affordable, tax-credit housing for low-income seniors and families. And on Saturday morning I have an appointment to see a little cabin in the redwoods down in California. It's in an extraordinarily beautiful part of the world -- big redwoods everywhere, the fabulous Smith River, just lovely. The cabin is small, but may be doable. Hard to tell until I see it. There's also a little 'mother-in-law' cottage behind a larger house in Brookings.

I don't know if any of these will work for me, but I feel the need to give it a try before I take off for Georgia. Friends say the worst that can happen is that I'll get to Georgia and end up coming back to the west coast -- but I don't see it that way. I really don't see me making another cross-country move, so I need to get this one right, if I'm going to do it. I'd rather make a move to Brookings or elsewhere in that area and have that be temporary -- move on to Georgia if I find I still need to do that. Cheaper and easier in the long run. So -- stay tuned for results of this trip. As of today there is a wireless card installed in my laptop, so I'll be mobile and able to upload photos on a daily basis.

One thing that has become crystal clear is that staying in Eugene is really not an option for me, as much as I like it and as much as I'll miss it. There are simply too many unhealthy emotional ties here that need to be broken, and that can only happen with many miles of distance. I'm very comfortable with that, finally! And it's about time.