Gulls & Home

Our going away party: One year ago today!

I sat on the balcony at usually the time where the sun blazes right into my eyes, but today it's different. The sky was prematurely grey with clouds looming over the mountains in the distance where the sun typically retreats behind every night. There was a patch of a brilliant yellowish pink that peaked out a bit in between the mountains and the clouds, and I knew that somewhere in Washington someone was getting a view of a beautiful sunset.

A sunset from the balcony, on a much more impressive day

Without the fantastic display of colors to distract me, I watched the seagulls, whom I'm convince have houses on every roof in Victoria. Some glide lazily along their way before they flap briefly before touching down on the Tudor-styled building across the way, and others flap rhythmically, as if unable to catch a break in the wind. I now love being surrounded by seagulls; they remind me that we really are living in a shore town. Usually I only heard their calls about twice a year when I went down the shore in Jersey, but now I hear them every day.

Sunrise at the Jersey shore, 2010

The beach here is so different. There's no mile-long stretches of umbrellas, dozens of happily screaming children, or people battling the waves at the end of summer for hours. There's no boardwalk, no "Wildwood '04" hoodies, no loud rap music played for the singular pleasure of teenagers. No, here there's little waves with patches of rocky shores mixed with kelp, drift wood, and rocky formations. A beach comber might find about a dozen or so wanderers like themselves, or perhaps an avid reader plopped on a make-shift driftwood seat. When I used to see straight lines, now I have diagonals.

Dallas Road beach in Victoria

There's only ten days until Jon and I leave our rocky shores for smooth, sandy ones. Ten days until we leave our temporary home temporarily to remember what we little details have forgotten. The unfamiliar has become so common place here so quickly, only within a year, but I now long to see something that is known deep within my bones, and is burrowed in my heart. I love living here, but it's time to visit home.

Bay-side sunset adventure.

Holiday Thoughts

While we have spent many Christmases together, this is me and Jon's first Christmas as a married couple, and our first Christmas we'll be spending all day with one another. Last year I went home for the holiday and Jon stayed in Boston to welcome Mr. Clemens into our lives, and the years before that we either split the day or spent it apart.  This year will be a happy, loving relief from wanting to see our families but also wanting to see each other because not only are we not going home, we're having some family coming to visit us! Jon's father and younger sister will be arriving on Sunday, and we anxiously anticipate their arrival!

This will be, by far, the most intimate Christmas I've ever had. My family is quite large, and each year I spent Christmas morning with my three siblings and two parents, were welcomed in the afternoon by my Mommom and my Aunt, and then all eight of us shuffled down a few avenues to my other Aunt's house for Christmas where we were greeted by anywhere between eight to twelve family members. I will miss my family sorely this year, but I'm looking forward to spending some quality time with Jon's family and showing them the city that has been becoming my home these last few months. 

In these last few days before Christmas, I have a lot to do (I have yet to do any gift shopping and have only written out half of my cards [and still haven't mailed the ones I wrote!]), but I feel more in "the spirit" of the holidays than ever before. I feel like we're making it our own and starting traditions that will be remembered for years to come. 

Exhausted & Excited

These last few weeks have been spent seeing friends, visiting favorite spots, packing, and sorting out our lives. We've gone out to dinner so many times I can barely count them, and I'm so happy I got to spend some quality time with some of my most favorite people. I couldn't have asked for a better last few weeks on the east coast.

Boating with Jon down the Jersey Shore

Despite all of this happiness, it's been bittersweet. Our cat, Mr. Clemens, has noticed the air of temporariness and has been crying almost every night, and Jon and I have both become exasperated with the endless packing and preparing with such a short time span. It feels weird to know that we're leaving in three short days while being in an area that I've known and lived almost my whole life. I've barely begun to process that I won't see my twin sister and her husband for a year and a half, except via Skype. They're moving to England for a year only a month after Jon and I leave, so even if we do get to go home for the winter holidays, they're not going to be there.

With so many exciting, nerve-wracking things to be handled, I feel simultaneously exhausted and excited. But right now more exhausted than anything. We're having our going away picnic/reception tomorrow (will it rain?) and then will be packing the car up on Sunday and leaving Monday. A part of me wants that time to be now so we can start the biggest adventure of our lives, but another part wants this time in limbo to never end.

Out to lunch with Karen

Dana's birthday vegan dim sum in Philly

The ladies at dim sum

Alex reading her vows to Matt near Boston

Some of my favorite Boston ladies

My sister Kate eating raspberries like Amelie

I guess this could be seen as a type of milestone in maturity. I was up in Boston for about three weeks before I made my first impromptu 8 hour bus trip back home, but I won't have that luxury now. We'll be on our own, supporting and relying on one another through the thick and thin, and I'm looking forward to that new stage of intimacy with Jon. I know whatever the future will bring will be saturated in great stories, happiness, and heartbreak-- all for a new life.