It's Hot

It's hot out — 102-plus this afternoon. I'm learning to be like the natives and stay inside during the hottest part of the day. I still haven't developed the habit of getting up and out early. It's the habit of the unemployed: stay up late and get up late.

I'm taking a trip back to the Oregon Coast in a couple of weeks, where it's still not hit 70 degrees even once this summer and sometimes doesn't get out of the 50s during the day. Unless the weather changes substantially, I will experience a drop of 40 to 50 degrees over the course of an air trip and a shuttle trip. In fact, I'll probably hit 90 degrees temps in Portland. I'm pulling out a pair of shorts and a couple of tees and the rest is jeans, a sweater and some long-sleeve shirts. Thank goodness for layering! And staying with someone who will have sweaters.

I wouldn't mind being a snowbird, because I love my temperature range to be between the 40s or 50s in the winter (I like sweaters) to the 80s or low 90s in the summer (I like shorts). But I'd need to be able to work anywhere I lived, either having a job that existed in two places or having two jobs or being able to telecommute. 

My friend Thea told me I need to live in San Diego. My BFF and a handful of other folks want me in Seattle. I have some people who think I'm in Houston forever. And I have a compulsion toward living on the Oregon Coast. 

I feel as if I were a kid wondering what I'm going to be when I grow up: I don't know what I want in specific. It's all just dreams right now, dreams of heat and cold, light and dark, here and there.

What climate do you prefer? Would you be a snowbird if you could? Where do you want to be?

The Estate Saga

Finally, I am near the end of my time as Executor of the Estate. It hasn't been fun and I haven't been great at it, but nothing's blown up and I made it through alive. (I was going to say "no one died" but that isn't quite accurate.)

I've got many tasks to accomplish in less than two weeks and I'm hoping for help that may not manifest for my hardest task. I thought to myself, what else can I do to make my life easier? That thought ran away as fast as it could, so I then decided I should blog about these next two weeks. Because it will all be so fun!

I flew into Portland Airport on Wednesday at about 11 am, but had to wait until 2 for the shuttle to the coast. A friend picked me up and took me to the store so I could buy some basic groceries, then brought me home. I ate ice cream for dinner; it just seemed the thing to do.

Thursday almost killed me: I spent the day and much of the night fearing and feeling as if I was going to barf. I stayed very still on the couch and I slept as much as I could. I did manage to get up long enough to see my realtor and sign a couple of things and talk. She rocks. She even volunteered to be "my place to stay" so I'm not losing the beach after all. 

My friend Sierra spent a few hours texting me amusing thoughts and pictures, and sent me a truly bad joke, just to amuse me and make me feel better. Sierra rocks, too.

Now it's Friday. I don't feel like barfing, but I'm being careful, which means I've accomplished nothing on my planned tasks. Nor did I walk on the beach. But I haven't moved backwards, so that's something. And the appraiser came by: they had better say that not only is this house worth what the buyers are paying for it but that they are getting a damned good deal! (Click through to see the interior shots, especially the living room and kitchen!)

As much as I hate giving up this house, both as my mom's home for 20 years and as my place to stay at the beach, I realized that I really couldn't live here on my own or keep it comfortably. It's my mom's home. Well, even tho' her second husband shared this home with her for more than half of that time, she re-did it after he died and it really is her house. I don't think I could ever make it my house, and it isn't exactly the house I'd buy if I were just out here picking out my own place. So it is okay that someone else will own it.

I also need to get over my anger and resentment over having to split the estate equally with the Steps. Here's why I'm angry and resentful: nothing in this house came from their father. When he and my mom got married, he had virtually nothing. My mom had a nice house and nice furniture that she bought with my dad. Second husband retired a year or two after marrying Mom and pretty much brought nothing money-wise to the marriage. Proceeds of the house my mom and dad bought allowed Mom and Second Husband to buy this house outright. And yet my mom, from some misguided feelings of being "fair," left equal shares of this house and its furnishings to her second husband's two daughters. And while they have both said a few times "let me know how I can help," they were empty offers because we all live in separate states and they weren't around or able to help me at all. Once the shares are distributed, they will add to the lives or retirements of the Steps, who have homes and jobs. My share will keep me from having to live in my car. In trying to be whatever her mind was thinking of as "fair," my mom practically left me hanging out to dry and was exceptionally unfair to her own daughter. Yeah, I really need to get over it. I just haven't figured out how yet.

I do love this house for many reasons, but not for the design or layout — it is pretty dark inside and completely misses most opportunities to bring light into the interior. (It truly is beautiful, it's just not my style.) I would happily take the kitchen and dining nook and place it into any house I ever live in again. It's within four or five blocks from the bluff overlooking the beach and out onto the ocean — with a several-story set of stairs down to the beach. And it's within walking distance of a grocery store and the main downtown strip, including my bank.

I'll continue the story of my love-hate affair with Lincoln City in another post. 

It's Friday night, and I'm signing off for the day.

Travel Tribulations and Exaltations

or How I came to the Coast, met Julie of JulieLand, and rediscovered the Need for Sleep

For those who don't already know, I flew from Houston to Oregon on the 18th and Julie promptly visited me here on the Coast. She arrived late Wednesday night, we stayed up way too late talking (plus I was already two hours behind and suffering from a 4- to 5-hour, broken sleep the night before — I don't always travel well), and she left Thursday about 8 pm. And we didn't accomplish nearly enough or spend enough time together! But much fun was had by all, and there was much rejoicing (and we didn't even have to eat the minstrels! — we did, however, eat dessert).

The fun began when I forgot to bring my cell phones with me. I discovered this delightful fact when I got out of my car at the Park 'n Fly lot in Houston. Too late to go back and get them (yes, there are two and no, I won't explain it right now) and how would I call someone to get them for me?

Portland's elevated walkway with clear "ceiling".

The line to check baggage was long. The line thru security made the baggage line look like a poser. A third of the way thru the security line and I was wishing for my cane; my lengthy exercise-free phase and my "oops, accidentally undernourished" streak made me weak and unready for such a long time standing. When I finally arrived at the gate, perfectly ready to upgrade to first class, the flight was not only full, it was already boarding! I typed up a couple of urgent emails and sent them off so people would know that I had no phones. It has been (and continues to be) Very Uncomfortable.

Long flight, interesting seat mate, too little room, got a kink in my back (not the good kind and I'm still working on it). Waited three hours for the shuttle out to the Coast, then half an hour for my ride home. At least the sun was shining. 

I got the basics of food, went home and exploded all over my bedroom (luggage here, clothing there). Then I proceeded to email Julie and nap until she arrived around 11. Ah, the wonderfully distinctive sound of the VW Bug (original) engine!

Julie was everything I imagined she'd be and more. We had the best time and we both talk a mile a minute when we are excited. We both adapted our sleep schedules. Then, instead of tromping thru the treasure cave (storage unit), we spent the day dealing with dead car battery, trying to charge it, getting new one. I think some of our activities were redundant, but that's okay.

Julie's the cute one. I'm the scary redhead.

While waiting for the car, we wandered around the shops nearby (one or two were highly interesting), then went home. At least Mom's house is within walking distance from the mechanic, a very useful aspect of that mechanic shop (besides being trustworthy and good at their job).

Then it was time to take a nap, then have dinner, and there went Julie, driving off into the darkness toward Eugene.

I'm already looking forward to this coming Wednesday and I'm trying to catch up on my sleep beforehand!

Now I'm off to rest up so I can write another blog post later!