The Spirit Of This House

Nine years ago I moved to the wee corner here in suburbia in Northern California.  At the time, I was a spiritual zombie, having moved myself, Rosie, Major and a few pieces of furniture after a very painful divorce.  I loved the house we moved from though I could not afford the mortgage and so,we had to move on.  I was more than a basket case at the time, maybe most of a cask of trouble, a steamer trunk of regret or simply a nation of sadness.  Painful divorces sometimes show you what you are made of and I had little to fall back upon.

Nine years ago, I put my name on the title to this old house at a time when values in Santa Rosa were starting to escalate very rapidly.  Although I did OK by the standards of appraisal at the time, in two years my house value was said to be half a million dollars.  That was crazy for California.  Especially because we still have the same wall heater goddess that keeps us alive in the winter and well, real estate used to be an investment. Nine years after 10/26/03, this house has a value  $100,000 less than what I bought it for.  Kinda sounds like insanity.  It is.

Nine years ago, I moved here with many more friends than I have today.  My sister came to help me move and even she has moved on in the intervening years to a husband and stepchildren.  We don't talk like we did at all and the divide still feels very painful.  That is, however, what can happen in life.  People make choices that move them away from us and we must accept the unacceptable.  Life is a dramatic event after all.

Nine years ago I knew very little about myself and what life would hold for me.  This old house has been a witness to beautiful Fall colors and the most amazing sunsets just over the fence. There have been hopeful Springs that were sometimes rainy and sometimes drought in the making.  This old house has stayed hot in summer and held us dear as we sipped iced tea on the back patio as the hummingbird who lives off the abutilon has come and gone and his kin. 

Nine years ago I did not realize that I would soon lose Major to bone cancer and a few years later, Rosie as well.  I have made great friends and pissed them off and they have left forever.  I have lived next door to people who never say hello and watched as the small plants that I put in the front garden have become massive and full of blossoms.  I have watched those plants create a bird habitat where each morning with a little help of some wild bird seed, gold finches, towhees, black capped chickadees, blue jays, crows and another hummer all come to feed and find shelter. I love watching them and it makes me feel real.

Nine years ago I came with a breaking heart to this cold, old house that needed to be fixed up and loved and she has held me close through the darkest nights of the soul and some of the most jubilant.  I am grateful to the spirit of this old gal, built in 1953 and now with a few repairs over those years, a veteran who shines in the golden sunset on a warm evening in October, 2012. 

Penny Inhales

I think I might be heading for a world record of unemployment periods in the last two years or maybe not.  I know I have lots of company, I just don't know how to find those fellow humans.  They may be home watching T.V. Trying to reinvent oneself creates a great disturbance in the force or at least, my force, my life.  I feel pretty disturbed. 

And so, once again, I am gathering volunteer gigs from our local area.  For me, having nothing to do does not mean I head towards the T.V.  Truthfully, I did get some brochures on travel cruises because I need a big change.  Then, duh, I realized that cruises don't happen during the winter!  Can you say...iceberg ahead!  Ah, well, I can dream of getting away with thousands of others.  Having no job means one had lots of time to ponder getting the hell out of here.  How is another matter.

Yesterday, I drove up Petrified Forest Rd. to Equi-Ed and a potential volunteer opportunity. A new idea thanks to my brother-in-law, I wanted to be around horses and help my fellow humans.  Equi-Ed allows people with disabilities to find new ways to move and new ways of seeing themselves with the help of horses and their trainers.  For me, a chance to shovel some horse poop and be outside was key.  The program director walked me around the facility and I met several horses. 

However, it was Penny, a big, bay horse who towered above me in her stall, who made an impression I will not easily forget.  Penny, her head above me, pressed her nose to the gate of her stall and inhaled deeply.  She actually inhaled me as a greeting.  Her nostrils wide and right in my face, I felt the wind of her breath against my cheek.  Wow.  Incredible.  That settled it for me.  I am ready to show up and do whatever is needed.  Penny lifted my spirits up and I really needed it.

I am doing my best though I feel discouraged as never before, attempting new ideas, running farther on my run days, contacting new volunteer directors, meditating and trying not to worry so much.  It is frightening to have so little money and even more frightening to have so little chances to get a job, keep a job and thrive in a job.  It is everything, but it is essential if you are going to live here, in the most expensive county in California, or anywhere from Ashland, Oregon to Austin, Texas to somewhere in Vermont. 

For today, I am thankful for a big horse with a lungful of horse breath.  Thank you Penny!