Hmmm. I thought that moving would provide me with all sorts of wonderful blog fodder, and that I would while away my lonely, friendless hours by regaling you with tales of this strange new life. But it turns out that I have both too much and not enough to write about, as is always the case for me during major life transitions.
The "too much" concerns the question occupying most of my brain space these days: Where should we live? There is no charming old neighborhood here (as there was in Boise) with good schools. The suburbs vs. city debate has become very real to us, as there is a significant difference in crime and school quality, depending on which neighborhood one is in. Would we be selfish to choose the city? Overprotective and insular to choose the suburbs? Aack. Where would Jesus live?
The "not enough?" Well, when wrestling with big questions about my ultimate values, it hardly seems worth mentioning that I am disconcerted by the giant slugs (bigger than my middle finger) that come out here when it rains (every day) after not having seen a single gastropod in over five years.
Or that I encountered my first real live 9/11 conspiracy theorist. I overheard him passionately expounding his views to a fellow dad whom he had just met at the Cafe Sip 'n Play. Wow.
Or even that while Shaun and I were eating dinner, seated at the table in our stately dining room, we saw a young man in a pick-up pull up and park across the street. From our dining room window we could see him disappear into the bushes to take a pee before getting back in his truck and going on his merry way.
Well, OK. That last anecdote is one I'm proud to share, major life transition or no.
And, by the way, it rained so hard the other day that I had to slow down to 35 mph on the 5 freeway. The windshield wipers couldn't keep up with the volume of water, and I could hardly see. It's nice that the Pacific Northwest is so far living up to its reputation.