In Which We Bounce Around the World

I was born in Indiana where I grew up safe and happy and went to college 3 miles away from my Kindergarten. I loved growing up there. In a graduating class of 140 students, I knew every one of them. My mom and sister and I attended the Folk Mass at the Catholic church on campus, where they had a guitar and tambourines and the old-timers viewed such oddities as very impertinent, I'm sure. During our summers, we netted butterflies then let them go, we trapped fireflies in jars, and went fishing with Dad at the gravel pit when we weren't turning brown as Indians at the neighborhood pool. July found us at the County 4-H Fair, eating elephant ears and riding the Octopus; visiting the bunnies and wrinkling our noses in the pig barn. Each winter we dug snow-forts out of drifts, cut our own Christmas tree at the local farm, and played gin-rummy in front of the fire with Mom. It was an idyllic childhood, the kind that my children, when they are feeling particularly dissatisfied with their lives, remind me that they never had the chance to experience.

And then at twenty I moved away to Alabama where life is completely different in almost every aspect. Southerners move at a slower pace. Speed in the drive-through at McDonald's is not something they aspire to. Iced tea is sweetened with a mountain of sugar, grits are considered breakfast and rain every afternoon is regular. Sometimes their accent was so thick that I couldn't make my ears hear what they were saying. And I talked so fast that I was constantly having to repeat myself to be understood. I spent just over 2 years in Alabama, and while I didn't hate it there, neither was I completely comfortable. I packed up my things and cried with relief when I passed back over the Indiana State Line from Kentucky.

Two years later, I sat in shock as my car, packed full of boxes and suitcases, sped back down I-65 towards the South, this time to be plunked down about 4 hours farther south in Pensacola where I discovered much of the same "Southern Charm", all tempered by the Gulf of Mexico. Any time you find yourself uncomfortable, I highly recommend throwing in some white sand beaches and warm sea water and watch your level of tolerance shoot right up.

1994 found us packed up again, this time headed west. To Utopia. Otherwise known as San Diego. We spent the next six years there. With the Pacific Ocean and palm trees and a beautiful blue sky. We went to The Zoo and Sea World and took walks and went to the beach. We went antiquing in La Jolla and to Old Town for Mexican food. But, as they say, "All good things must end." (I think "They" suck, by the way.)

And we moved to Japan. Four and a half of my very favorite years yet. Definitely the best (and the some of the worst) of our 15 years in the Navy. Dinners in Tokyo, a standing date every Friday night, the discovery of new best friends, dancing at The Club and Japanese Grandmas. Life in Japan was amazing.

And Now. The past 18 months have been spent in the Suburbs of DC. It's been a great experience for the kids. How can you argue with The Smithsonian? Fairfax County Schools? Mt. Vernon, Williamsburg, reconnecting with long lost friends? A day's drive from home in Indiana. The East Coast isn't really my thing, but it doesn't suck here. That's the bottom line.

And if I had to choose ANYWHERE to go next, where would I go? The possibilities are endless. Well, if "endless possibilities" means "four choices"... San Diego, Hawaii, Jacksonville, and Japan. (But not so much Japan since we already were there twice. It was all smooshed together as once, but really, it counted as twice.) So, in this case "endless" means "three". Three choices, none of which are unbearable.

And today was the day we found out where we next pitch our tent.
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Drum roll, please...
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SAN DIEGO, it is!!!!!!!!!!!!

And we've been grinning from ear to ear all afternoon. Tater will leave here next January, headed to this school and that, Mac and I will remain here with Dillon until his graduation and then either join Tater in or beat him to San Diego. With a big smile on my face and my Birkenstocks in my backpack.