The Road to Here

In order to really understand our excitement, anticipation, and anxiety about our upcoming move, I think you need to understand where we've been for the last few years.  So allow me to fill you in.

In the spring of 2009 - a little over two years ago - Peter and I were balanced, productive members of society.  We both had full-time jobs, we owned a house and two cars, we went on vacations, and we bought new clothes and furniture and things when we wanted them.  We had a darling little two-year-old boy and I was pregnant with our second son.  Life was great, and we had a great Plan for the future.

Oh, yeah.  Things were looking good for us.

Peter had been accepted into nursing school at Chemeketa Community College in Salem, and our Plan was that he would cut back on his work hours when school started in the fall.  I would continue working full-time while he was in school.  My two kids would go to the same daycare that Solomon, my oldest son, had been going to since he was 12 weeks old.  Peter would graduate from nursing school in due time, get a job at the hospital in Salem, and life would proceed.

Me, about nine months preggers.  Gracious, I was huge.

It was a lovely Plan.  But one day as Peter and I were talking about our Plan - holding it in our hands and stroking it lovingly, admiring it and ourselves for having come up with it - we came to a Realization.  With two kids, we would be paying twice as much for daycare.  Most of the money I'd be making by working full time would go to paying someone to watch my kids so that I could work full time.  It was suddenly and undeniably clear to both of us that I needed to quit my job.  Our beautiful Plan died on the spot.


Of course we realized that it didn't make any financial sense for me to quit working.  Peter wasn't going to be working, and if I wasn't either, how were the bills going to be paid?  We had no answer for that question, but somehow we weren't too concerned about it.  We knew that we were doing the right thing.  It was the best decision I have ever made in my life.

Moments like these are worth being around for.

I was going to be staying home with my kids.  I was going to be just a mom and stop trying to be both a mom and everything else in the world at the same time.  Money would be practically nonexistent, but that didn't matter.  For the first time in my life, I truly felt that I was going to be fully living the life that God wanted me to live.  I would be living in harmony with His will, following His plan for me instead of my plan for me.  It felt so good, and it still does.

Good golly, they're cute.

So that is how we've been living for the last two years.  Nursing school was a time-claiming, life-consuming, soul-sucking experience and Peter only had time to work about one day a month.  He received student loans and scholarships.  Peter's parents helped us out enormously every month (for which we are eternally grateful and for which we love them dearly).  We're on food stamps and our kids are on public health care.  We have sold our possessions.  We have cut expenses.  We have made sacrifices, big and small.

Life has certainly been easier, but it has never been better.

Luckily, it's pretty cheap to entertain these guys.

And now that nursing school is over, we feel like we are at the finish line.  These last two hard years are past, and we can finally move into the next phase of God's plan for us - whatever that may be.

Our Biggest Challenge To Date

In order to make our plans to move feasible, a couple of major things have to fall into place.  First and foremost, Peter needs to get a job in Pendleton.  And secondly, we have to sell our house here in Salem.

I'm happy to report that item #1 has already been checked off the list.  Peter just graduated from nursing school a couple of weeks ago, and he already has a job offer in Pendleton.  What a stud.  He starts August 1st at a family practice clinic in Pendleton (which shall remain nameless until Peter actually signs some paperwork).

Item #2, however, has been a little slower in coming about.  Okay, a lot slower.  We've been trying to sell our house for a year now, first "by owner" and now through a realtor.  So far, no offers.

My front yard in full bloom.

Now don't get me wrong.  I love my house.  We bought it six years ago when the housing market was really hopping, and it was dirt cheap.  It's not like any other house you've ever seen, and we really like that about it.  It was our first house and we spent a lot of time and money and effort on fixing it up just the way we wanted it.


But it is a weird house in a lot of ways.  First of all, the location.  It's on a flag lot, which means it's not situated right on the street, but behind another house.  You have to drive down a little driveway to even see it.

This is the only view of our house from the street.  Doesn't exactly scream "Come on in and take a look!"

And then, when you do finally find the house, the view that greets you is not exactly the most flattering one.  Our house lacks what you'd call curb appeal.  Like it has none.  It's mostly the fault of our garbage cans and some crumbling concrete pads out front.

We call this the "ass end" of the house, and unfortunately it's the first thing people see when they drive by.

There are two different "front doors" visible from where we park our car, and visitors to our house are frequently confused as to which door to knock on.  (Here's a hint for anyone planning on paying us a visit: it's the one at the end of the pathway through the front yard).

Once you get inside the house, things get a whole lot better looking.  But the layout of the house itself is unique, which some people really like and some people really don't.  The house was originally built in 1958 with a living room, kitchen, one bathroom, and two bedrooms.  Then in the late 1990's, someone added on to the house, doubling the square footage.  The way that did that was to add another living room, bathroom, and two bedrooms that connect to the main house through an oddly-shaped hallway off of the kitchen.  The result is a very long and skinny house with all sorts of weird angles and narrow hallways that open onto surprisingly large rooms.  It kind of looks like a lightning bolt when seen from above.

Oh, and did I mention that the house in front of ours has a yard that looks like this?  No kidding.  This is the very first thing people see when they're looking for our house.  We're doomed.

I think in this housing market, even the cutest craftsman-style 3-bed 2-bath home would stay on the market for a few months before it sold.  But trying to sell a house like ours in this market is going to take a loooong time.  And we're moving in a month.

We've been talking about all sorts of different options, including renting, leasing, leaving it vacant - even foreclosing (did I mention that money is scarce around here?).  For now, our plan is to sell it.  But we don't have any control over when that will happen.

It's a scary thing, and we didn't really see it coming.  We're trying to stay optimistic.

We've Got Our Reasons

When we tell our friends here in Salem that we're moving back to Pendleton this summer, we get mixed reactions.  Part surprise, part understanding, part flat refusal to believe us.  But once we explain our reasons for moving, everyone seems to understand why we made the decision we did - even if they are sad to see us go.

As I mentioned before, we have some really good reasons for moving.  I will list them here (I love a good list).

1. Proximity to our parents.  We want our kids to grow up around their grandparents.  This will not only be a benefit to us and our kids, but we are hoping to be a benefit to our parents as well.  We'll do yard work for them, take them to doctor's appointments, help them with projects.  We'll even clean their bathrooms.  Seriously.

Grandpa Jim makes stuffed animals talk.  This entertains my children for hours on end.  This is a very valuable thing.

2. The community.  Pendleton really is a great little town, especially if you choose to be there.  You can make it what you want it to be.  And there are tons of cultural and entertainment opportunities, especially considering the size of the town.  Like the Arts Center, which has free classes for kids and grownups every week.  How cool is that?

The Pendleton Aquatic Center.  No joke.

It's easy to see how you can have a positive impact on other people in a town like Pendleton.  Not that there's anything wrong with Salem or that we couldn't impact people here - we just feel like we could have a greater impact in a smaller town.  Plus, we're way more comfortable with small towns than cities.  Cities make us uncomfortable.  Too many people, too much going on.  That may qualify us as hicks, but I'm really okay with that.


3. The housing market.  Property values in Pendleton are way lower than in Salem.  It will probably take us a few years to sell our house in Salem and buy another one in Pendleton, but we'll have property values working for us when the time comes.

My dream house in Pendleton.  Waaaaay out of our price range, but I still love it.

4. The climate.  I remember being dazzled the first spring we lived in the Willamette Valley.  Everything was so green and lush!  Every plant was covered in flowers!

The State Capitol grounds in Salem.  All those pretty flowers come at a cost.

And then when autumn came, and winter after it, I understood why it was so green and pretty.  It rains here.  A lot.  For weeks on end.  Sunshine is not to be found.  Seasonal depression abounds.  And all those spring blossoms create another problem: allergies.  Not for me, but poor Peter.  Every spring he has to medicate himself like an addict just in order to breathe.  No thanks.  Give us the dry, high desert climate of Eastern Oregon.  We can handle 100-degree summers and snowy winters.  At least you can see the sun.

Aaaahhhh.....much more like it.

5. The people.  I don't know why, but small-town people tend to be friendly to strangers and neighbors.  City people tend to be wary.  I know that's a stereotype and I know it's not always the case, but people just act nicer to each other when there are fewer of them around.

6. Our own childhoods.  I would be lying if I said nostalgia wasn't playing a part in our decision to move back to our hometown.  Peter and I both had great childhoods, and now that we have our own kids, we want them to experience the same type of happiness we did.  We both felt so free when we were kids, and I don't think I could give my kids that same freedom in a big city.

Don't keep us cooped up indoors, Mommy!

Pendletopia - The Journey Begins

My husband Peter and I have been talking about starting a blog about our transition to living in Pendleton, Oregon.  This is the beginning of that journey.

Pendleton, Oregon.  This is rather an unflattering picture of it, and I suspect it was taken in the 1980's, but there it is.

Peter and I both grew up in that idyllic town in Eastern Oregon, where we met in junior high and where we got married when I was just 19 and he was 20.  We moved away to the Willamette Valley as soon as we could, feeling like we were escaping some sort of black hole of parental oppression, backwards rural thinking, and dead-end economics.  We went to college at Western Oregon University and after graduating we moved to Salem a bought a house (which is now for sale, in case you know anyone who's interested).

Now, ten years and two kids later, it is our heart's desire to return to the town we were once so eager to leave.

Our reasons for going back are many, and if you ask me they're pretty darn good reasons.  First of all, it's one of the best places in Oregon to raise kids.  If you don't believe me, read this.  See?  Also, both our parents still live there.  That's both sets of grandparents for our kids, in the same town.  Free babysitting, anyone?

Hey Grandma and Grandpa, can you watch us while Mommy and Daddy go on a date?

Pendleton also has a shockingly active music and arts community.  They have two symphony orchestras based there, for crying out loud.  That's pretty good for a rural farming community with a population of about 17,000.

And have I mentioned that it is GORGEOUS out there?  Goodbye, endless rainy Willamette Valley winters.

But for us, it's not just about what we can get out of living there that attracts us.  It's what we can put back in to the community.  We feel like Pendleton is a place where we can engage with our community, get involved, and really make a difference. 

Remember those grandparents I mentioned?  Well, they're not getting any younger (sorry, Mom and Dad, but it's the truth).  Peter and I want to be near them, to mow their lawns, to help them with house projects, to drive them to the doctor, and to care for them in their dotage (to borrow a phrase from my mother-in-law). 

We want our kids to have a close relationship with their grandparents and not just know them as people who we visit occasionally.  That's a luxury neither Peter nor I got to have when we were kids, but we always wished we could have had.

My goal with this blog is to chronicle both our journey getting to Pendleton and our new life as it unfolds there.  I'll write about our plans, our challenges, our failures and triumphs, and the things we'll learn as we go. 

I'll also write about the town of Pendleton itself as we re-discover it as adults and as parents.  And I'll write about our families as we learn to adjust to living together once again.

And yes, I'll write about the rodeo.  There's really no way to escape it.

It's as inevitable as spinal trauma is for this cowboy.

Peter and I have joked about the way we've idealized Pendleton in our minds as we've planned for the last two years to move there.  We've taken to calling it "Pendletopia."  That tongue-in-cheek name reminds us to keep our expectations balanced as our plans finally come to fruition.

Thank you for joining us as we move into our new life.  Let the journey begin!