But You Can Still Be Friends

Isn't it always the case that after you break up, the other party pulls it together and then you can't remember why you wanted to break up?  He gets off the couch, quits the fantasy football league, shuts off the TV, and finally starts the company that he kept talking about while you hung around offering encouragement...he loses ten pounds, he starts cooking, he goes dancing...basically he does all of the things that you had wished could happen while you were together, but he does them with someone else.

Houston is doing that to me a little bit right now.  I have been hanging around, waiting for Houston to come into its creative own, looking for signs of creative life.  Hints of it surfaced here and there, but still it has sometimes felt difficult to actually find people to do creative things with.

Last week, literally weeks before our departure, a new place opened for people to rent space and make things.  People close to me know that I have wanted to try this for sewing; every time I pack up my heavy machines that do not get daily use, I wonder why more us don't share these things.  I have even sketched out a rough idea for a business model.  But the constant moving has stopped me from actually going for it because I was terrified of having to leave it behind.  Anyway, I'm not bitter that someone else did it first; I'm happy it exists because it makes so much sense.  I'm just disappointed that it didn't happen two years ago, when I could be part of it.

Regardless, Houston, you are looking better already, and I'm sure it's not out of the question that I will be back.  Maybe we will make things together at some point in the future.  In the meantime, good luck to Houston Makerspace!

(I couldn't help but add the photo of this cool bus stop bench around the corner.)

You Have to Break Up with a Place

Living in Houston has been nothing like I imagined it would be, way back when I first realized that I would inevitably be moving here.  The last two and half years have been pleasant, relaxing (in between life curve-balls which were not Houston-specific), and a nice time of both connecting and re-connecting with friends.  Getting set up was fast and hassle-free compared to past locations.  It turns out that extricating ourselves is the tricky part.

We are in the process of selling our house, which is a pain in the patoot, as I always suspected doing such a thing would be.  The trouble is mostly due to managing baby paraphernalia and a baby schedule in the face of unpredictable periods of exile, and the fact that our first offer fell through, slowing down the process of finding the correct buyers.  Since the first offer came within days of listing the property, we were faced with wrapping up our life in Houston in a few short weeks, a prospect which left me feeling sad and slightly frazzled.

Mini Rant

Dear Random Man Who Believes Secession is the Solution,

I frequently run past your truck while you are working in my neighborhood and your "Secede" bumper sticker gets me riled up every time I see it.

I just want you to know that Texas will run out of oil, and therefore its primary means of supporting itself, long before the rest of us will exhaust our ability to govern ourselves peacefully and without you.

I guess your expenses will remain low, since your government only convenes briefly once every two years and doesn't believe in raising taxes to maintain infrastructure.  Unfortunately though, your crumbling sidewalks will disintegrate completely, your aging highways will cease to allow the passage of vehicles from far-away ranches to urban workplaces, and your citizens who lack healthcare and education will gradually bankrupt the rest of your citizens who do not see the link between themselves and those who go regularly without.  However, I am sure you will resolve all of that whenever your leaders finally reconvene in a couple years.

Maybe the nation of Texas will have enough water, but I guess if you don't you will figure something out.  I'm sure you won't need any help recovering from any drought, hurricane or fire issues like you have in the past, or any financial aid like the $44 billion dollars you received from the United States federal government in 2010.

Anyway, it sounds like you have thought long and hard about this, and we wish you the best.

Warm regards, and we will see you at the U.N.,

The Rest of the States

Happy Holidays in Houston

Another Festival of Quilts

I can't believe it's been a year since I went to the Quilt Festival here in Houston.  Suddenly it's that time again.  I heard on the radio this week that the festival draws over sixty-thousand attendees and that quilters spend more money on quilting than hunters spend on hunting and golfers spend on golf, which kind of boggles the mind.  Regardless of the hoopla, I just go to see the amazing display quilts from around the world.

It is bizarre how everything is different in my life than it was a year ago, and it all started just after the festival last year.  Last year I hung around the festival with my camera for hours, exploring and admiring the art.  This year, I raced around the festival with my camera in my diaper bag and my baby in the stroller.  I held my breath for most of the time and finally did a slower, more leisurely stroll only after I was certain that I had seen the highlights, lest I miss anything if the baby erupted.  But he hung in there, and I enjoyed a decent overview.

I was not as taken with this year's quilts as I was with those from last year, but they were beautiful and inspiring nonetheless.  The highlights for me this year were other details, like the fact that the friendly and enthusiastic ticket-taker at the door greeted me with "You must be from Wisconsin!", which was remarkable since I had never seen him in my life.  Even though I'm not from Wisconsin, from down here Minnesota and Wisconsin are essentially the same thing, so I was willing to consider that an accurate statement. Then I realized that he figured it out because I was wearing a sleeveless top and it was only 72 degrees outside.  For Houstonians, this constitutes a chill in the air.

Another aspect of the festival that amused me this year that I didn't notice last year was the husband's lounge.  It was a walled-off area in the back of the convention hall equipped with a big TV and a bunch of comfy armchairs and lounge chairs.  Pretty smart, and thoughtful, in my opinion.

There was something else I noticed this year that had nothing to do with quilts.  I noticed how many people in the world love babies.  As a person who has always feared them desperately, this fact never ceases to amaze me.  A sleeping baby in a stroller is a grandma magnet, and I was in a convention hall overflowing with grannies.  It's really fun walking past people who reflexively smile and get a little dreamy, giggly look on their faces when they look at your tiny companion.

Regardless, there were also beautiful quilts.  Here is a sampling of what I saw:

W(h)ine To Go

Our son is just over three weeks old now, which I find a little shocking in light of the fact that we haven't yet reached his due date.  The learning curve has been steep and the emotions are intense.  A flood of love and affection, both for him and my husband, who is turning out to be quite the baby-whisperer, but also emotions that are not always positive...fear and worry...discomfort at the loss of my old familiar self and worry for the future of our son in such a messy world.  We are managing pretty well, I think, one day at a time.  Our son has been reasonably accommodating, in my opinion.  Considering that he is technically a preemie, he is eating well and sleeping pretty well and we feel lucky that he hasn't had any other health challenges.

I have had a handful of health challenges which have made newborn care slightly more trying, but the assistance of my husband and several friends has made a huge difference.  The conditions of our son's early delivery necessitated a Caesarean section for me, which kept us in the hospital for a full week when combined with the blood pressure complications that I experienced.  As a result, the last three weeks have involved juggling extra medicine, simultaneous mandates to rest more and pump more and feed more but sleep more, and a also ban on driving.  I feel foolish because I never knew that newborns eat every two or three hours (sometimes even more) and trying to learn how to function as a normal human at the same time as these other tricky things finally built up in a big pile and left me ornery yesterday.  It all would have been impossible without the full-time help of my husband, but still there was no denying that even with his excellent help, I woke up cantankerous.

Festival of Quilts

Last week there was an enormous quilt festival practically in my backyard.  Normally, this is the kind of thing that I would think sounded nice and then I would be too lazy to do anything about.  I don't know how to make quilts, but I admire them enormously, and I imagined that the quilts at an event like this would be artful and inspiring.  They were.

Surly and Virtuous

This week I crossed a few items off of my to-do list, which gave me that virtuous feeling that you get when you do those things you know you should do, but that you don't really want to do.  Namely, I voted and I had my teeth cleaned.  I will spare you any images from the dentist appointment, but these images from our local early voting station are kind of interesting.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Fall

Three weeks!  Shameful, I'm sad to have not been writing all this time.  Everyone is busy, and I know that busy is a lame excuse, but I have to be honest when I say that September went entirely missing in the face of the move, and the first half of October wasn't much different.

Since we completed the move into the house, we have had a trip, a family wedding, a wedding anniversary, houseguests, intensive tackling of home-ownership-related tasks, a surprise visitor with fresh-caught redfish from the gulf of Mexico, and even a little (minor) surgery.  Uff-da, as we say up north.

So now, heading into the best part of fall, we are looking forward to some routine, borderline boring, possibly uneventful days.  Here's what's on the short-term agenda: setting up Third Coast Stitch Lab, doing some fabulous fall cooking, carving some pumpkins, and checking out Texas Wine Month events in Hill Country this weekend.

Happy Fall!

Home Ownership 101

It has been a month of learning about how to be a home owner, first legally and financially, and then logistically.  We finished moving into our house Sunday night and even have the pleasure of houseguests already.  We have met a few neighbors, and have wondered about a few more.  We have pest control and help with our lawn, and have already learned about our water heater and electrical system, through surprises and research.  Our house is old-new, first built in 1930, but stripped to the studs and rebuilt last year.

One More Move

Coming Soon: Third Coast Stitch Lab

Sign of the Times

Neighborhood Limes

The house that we're buying is only three blocks away from the townhouse that we are currently renting.  Also, it is empty while renovations are being completed.  As a result, I have become a stalker.  Luckily the seller/builder completely understands, and is on board with me visiting, taking measurements, and generally being around.

I have started thinking more about this idea of 'neighbor' now that we are committed...will we have nice neighbors?  Fun ones?  Mean or crazy ones?  Who knows.  In this old neighborhood, as in many big cities, homes are nearly on top of one another and the result is lots and lots of fences.  Our fence is tall, giving us the illusion of privacy, even though technically people are all around us.

Pursue Happiness

A program on the radio that I've listened to recently featured several TED presentations related to happiness.  One of the speakers, Barry Schwartz, concluded that "the secret to happiness is lowering expectations."  Not a romantic notion, but difficult to refute, as I happily snuggle further into a city that I thought I would hate.  Another speaker featured on that same program  concluded that too much choice increases dissatisfaction and also increases paralysis.  My husband and I can support this theory; while we have long appreciated options presented by his work, we have also suspected that the buffet of possibilities before us made our heads spin and sometimes threw up distraction barriers as we labored to make a more definitive life plan.

However, whatever the methodology, I am thrilled to report happiness.  Inside my gut, bubbling in my heart, leaking out onto my face regularly.  We have made lists, done comparisons, laughed and cried and imagined, and finally, decided not to move home to Minnesota.  Decided to remain here, in Houston, in order to prevent having to be separated while he is at work.  Making a hard decision like that was tricky enough, but the the truth is that my effervescent fountain of happy welled up from what followed, as we certified the first decision with a concrete second one: I fell in love with, and we are in the process of buying, my first house.

Confession

Confession: Last week, in the grocery store check-out line, I purchased my second issue of Garden & Gun.

To be clear, my position on guns has not changed.  I understand guns for hunting, and I can support that, with sufficient regulation.  The idea that guns should not be traceable is ridiculous.  Guns for non-hunting civilian pleasure are a recipe for mayhem, and Americans are not proving worthy of the responsibility.

However, Garden & Gun is good.  It feels similar to my favorite Twin Cities publication, Metro Magazine.  It is a fresh and hip report of southern food and lifestyle, and is proving to be a handy resource.  Aside from advertisements, articles about guns are far outnumbered compared to lifestyle, food, and culture articles.  The only reason I haven't yet subscribed is that we are still in the throes of finalizing next year's address.  Stay tuned.

August is My New February

I have so far treated Houston cordially and with respect.  I have not yet unleased a torrent of insults on the place that I thought I would hate more than all of  the others.  My sunny reflections on this tropical petri dish have confused a few people close to me, who have remarked upon their curiosity to get to know my Houston.  So I realize that it might be time for the gloves to come off...I don't want to lead anyone astray.  In short, it's pretty good, but mostly because it's not terrible.  I'm strangely content here, but the honest truth is that I'm not completely sure why.

Migrate: Read About It

Moving to places that don't make it onto ten-best lists, and trying to embrace what makes them tick, was the impetus for starting this blog.  It's easy to love a place where the priorities of the community match mine.  Thriving and finding happiness in places where people don't share my values has required developing new mental and emotional muscles, along with a willingness to more accurately identify priorities.

As mentioned in recent posts, in recent weeks my husband and I have been working to decide our next step.  For a period of time, maybe the last month or two, heading for a home base in Minnesota seemed both sure and sure-fire.  In the last few days, the pendulum has swung back to a grey area as we learn more about possibilities that exist if we remain in Houston, and I'm also feeling unsure about signing up for another immediate upheaval.  The benefits of taking our time heading home in order to make the most of the opportunities right here, mixed with an uneasiness about committing to separation for fifty percent of our time (which basing our lives in Minnesota would require), have risen to the surface of our planning efforts.  In all honesty, I'm stumped by this decision.

Montrose Weekend