It's Fall....

Well, summer's over here in Western Washington. This morning I woke up to clouds, rain, and wind. Goodbye sunshine it was nice while it lasted. I'll miss you and look forward to seeing you sometime after the 4th of July 2006.

Even though I've lived here 18 years I've never been one of those residents who say, "I can't wait for the rain, I'm tired of this hot weather." Yes, there are people here who start saying this in July when the temperature reaches 80 degrees. I always felt like we don't get enough sunshine and warm days to complain about them when they happen. I personally feel that sunny days should be treated like major holidays. All businesses should close so that employees can take advantage of the rare treat and go to the beach. Well slathered in sun-screen, of course! Unfortunately, my own bosses haven't seen fit to grant that wish so I guess they won't be starting any trends.

Six years ago I ran a retail store on the rare sandy beach here. It is very popular with tourists and locals alike so we got a lot of sunny day business. Not so much when it was cloudy. Our building got sweltering hot and we slaved over a hot grill making burgers which made it even worse. People would come in wearing shorts, bikini's, flip-flops, and all variety of summer wear making me long to be out there with them. I'm not exaggerating when I say that six weeks in a row it would be beautiful on the days I worked and cloudy and rainy on my days off. It didn't matter when I took my days off. Weekends-crappy weather; midweek-crappy weather; late in the week-crappy weather. It was all I could do not to cry. I told people that one day I wouldn't come to work and all they'd find would be a note from me that said, "I've gone South to find sunshine. I'll be back when I'm sick of it." I don't think I would ever get sick of it.

I knew a guy in highschool who went to the University of Hawaii. He transferred to University of Washington after one year. He said that he just got tired of it being sunny all the time. 12 years later I still can't fathom that.

Despite the weather I still love it here! I just want to win the lottery so I can have a 2nd home in New Mexico.

One More Reason I Love Living in a Small Town

I went to the grocery store last night after work. There are two major ones here in town and one of them I don't like because it is too big and crowded. But it is closer to work so I've been using it more often than I used to. However, this time I went to the other one. I shopped, got in line, was rung up, and gave the checker my debit card. I was using it as a credit card because I can never remember the PIN number the bank assigned to me. It wouldn't go through no matter how many times he swiped it.

He called the lead checker over. She is my favorite person at that store and she tried to swipe it. It still wouldn't work. They said, "You can write a check." I was out of checks and didn't have enough cash. I said, "Let me call my husband." My favorite checker said, "No, don't do that." She whipped out her own debit card and with me protesting she swiped it through the machine. She said, "You're a good customer. Pay me back the next time you come in."

I thanked her profusely and went home. I told my husband about it and immediately set about balancing my check book. I had thought there should be enough money for my purchase. However, when I looked I realized I had forgotten to deduct an automatic payment. No wonder the purchase wouldn't go through! I have a thank you card and cash to pay her back today, but it is just one more reminder of why I live here.

My Eyes, My Eyes!!

I was on my way to my second job yesterday afternoon and I saw something that made me almost drive off the road. I've lived here 18 years so I know I should be used to the hideous things that people wear but this was truly stunning, and I don't mean that in a good way. This woman was walking a toddler and wearing baggy light green and moss green tie-dyed pants and a shirt and polar fleece vest of a similar green. If that was all it would have been unremarkable, however she also had on a knee length A-line skirt with hot-pink and black stripes in a chevron pattern. I wanted to stop and say, "Did you lose a bet? Are you color blind? Can I help you clean out your closet so disasters like you're wearing won't happen again?"

And I need to publicly express my extreme dislike for the whole wearing skirts and dresses over pants thing in general. It is ugly and tacky looking. Especially over jeans, yuck, yuck, yuck! I understand when women wear dresses over stretch pants since I am from a northern climate but it's unacceptable with any other pants. And around here I see it a lot. Including on my own sisters who think that I'm hopelessly out of date.

Losing Weight...Or Not

So I've gained aproximately 55 pounds in the last 7 years. Many people, maybe they're just being kind, say, "You don't look like you weigh 200 pounds." But I do and I really don't like it. I've never been the kind of person who went on diets or worried incessantly about my weight. Maybe that's why it kind of crept up on me until I finally faced reality and decided I had to do something.

Someone I know told me about the South Beach Diet and how succesful it has been for her. She lost over 50 pounds in six months. I read the book and decided, ok, I can do this. The first two weeks you eat lean meat, low-fat cheese, and low-carb veggies. Then you start adding back some select complex carbs until you are at your goal weight. After that you can add back a few other things.

After a week of only eating those few things I stepped on the scale thinking I would see at least a little decrease. Imagine my shock when the stupid needle hadn't budged even a pound. Still stubbornly stuck at 200. Well, I'll give it another week. If it still doesn't move I'm throwing the diet book away and eating a Twix bar.

Work, work, work

I wanted a lazy weekend, unfortunately I had said that I would work at the local "alternative juvenile detention facility" that can house up to six residents. It would be my first weekend there alone as my husband had to be out of town. It was originally his gig but when he didn't want it anymore I said I would do it. I was hoping that there would be no kids and was on a yo-yo Friday afternoon...Noon: No kids-Yay; 4:00: getting a tweaky boy-Darn; 4:30: never mind, he's going to standard detention-Yay; 4:50: however, a girl just came in and blew .037 on the breathalizer so the cops will bring her by at 6:00, Darn, definitely can't follow through with plans for a lazy evening.

I ran home and threw everything I needed together and was unloading just as the police officer brought the 14 year old girl with a tear-stained face in handcuffs. I recognized her as a prior resident and had to fight two different urges- 1) to scold her for being so dumb and 2) to pat her on the shoulder and tell her everything would be ok. Instead I did the intake paperwork, called her mother, got some dinner, and tried to ignore that she was still crying, especially after her mother dropped off some clothes and toiletries.

I'm not completely hard hearted (I'm actually a big softy) but when a kid keeps getting in trouble and doing stupid things and gets caught drinking two days after they got out of detention they need some sternness. The good thing is that I had my dogs with me. They are lab mixes, on yellow and one black. Molly, the yellow one, is an attention hog and loves nothing more than to be petted and also knows when people need her so she was right by the resident's side ready to give comfort. This resident loves dogs so it helped a lot to have one to pet. She wanted to go to bed early but my instructions were to keep her up and productive until standard bed-time at 9:00. My supervisor said, "If she wants to go out and party, let her party in here!"

Having one cooperative female in residence actually made for a fairly easy weekend. I was there once with my husband when there were 5, count them 5, teenage boys. Too much testosterone for this girl! Luckily it was my husband's weekend to work so I could escape.

The rest of this weekend was pretty uneventful, except for my first night doing the alarm system alone and it wouldn't arm. I had to search the house for the open window which turned out to be the room the resident was in. Grrrrr....

My Home Town

I live in a little "Victorian Seaport" (or tourist trap) in Washington state, with around 8,000 residents. I've lived here 18 years. After college I kept thinking I was going to leave but it kept not happening and then I met D who I later married. He was very definitely here and not going to leave and I figured that I couldn't throw away a perfectly nice man just because I wanted to leave. I know I could get a far better job if I lived somewhere else but the trade-off is that it's beautiful here, the beach is 6 blocks away and the furthest I have to travel for family get togethers is 45 minutes. Also, my commute is 7 minutes so I frequently go home for lunch and the view from my office window is of the bay. I think there is a lot of intrinsic value in those things. There are days when I have to remind myself of that, however.

There is a huge debate over "liveability," "sustainable growth," and "living wage jobs" in this area. At heart I tend to be a liberal environmentalist but pragmatically I know that we need more than just tourist trade jobs here. I hate that the people who've moved here from out of state in the last ten years now want to shut the doors behind them. Port Townsend's housing market has become unaffordable for the average working person and I don't want to see it become a place where only rich people can afford to live and visit. I certainly don't want it to become the kind of town where the people who actually do the work have to commute from another nearby town.

I love that when I go to the grocery store the clerks know my name, and it's not just from reading the name that is on their scanned coupon cards. I love that a trip to the store also usually involves seeing someone I know and a stop to chat. My poor husband has sometimes had to wait 30 minutes or more for me to come home and make dinner. I love that many of the people I run into ask about my family. I love that strangers say hi to eachother and that you can strike up random conversations at the coffee shops or the art galleries.

That's my hometown.

So, OK, I'm new to this

Wow, my first ever blog...I have the niggling feeling that there are jillions of these in web space and they go mostly unread. Could I accomplish the same thing by writing in a diary?

Today I went and got my hair cut at my favorite salon. I had to because last week I let someone cut it for free! I learned my lesson, there's no being cheap with haircuts. The morning after the free cut my husband looked at me and said, "I was hoping that your bad haircut was just a dream." That's support for you. Then he said, "Are you calling Shawne?" Well, then I knew I really had to get it fixed. I spent my lunch break gossiping with Shawne and getting a new haircut...so much for growing it out. He changed my part! We'll see if it takes.