The squirrel hasn't lost any weight

Two years, I wrote a blog post entitled, "The 800-pound squirrel in the room," that explained why packing/unpacking for an ADDer is a comedy for others to enjoy and the afflicted to endure. Here's a sample of that post: 

Unpacking a box with clothing, I decide to sort them into two piles: stuff I can wear and stuff I wish I could still wear (wink, wink). 'Oh, I should put these into another tub to put back into storage...'

I remember there is empty tub in the bedroom and wander in there to get it. I spot a box with stuff for the bathroom and pick it up and take it into the bathroom, where I unpack it.

Then I go back into the bedroom where I found the box and start to sort the socks before I put them into the dresser. As I'm doing that, I notice that I haven't found the pillows for my bed yet and go back out into the living room to find the pillows, only to notice that I never got the tub for the "non-fitting" clothes.  

Packing for this move is following a similar pathway. I was doing great at the start, but now that I'm down to random odds and ends and the stuff I need to keep unpacked for day-to-day life, I'm kinda sucking at it. 

It's been one of my goals with this project to throw things away and not move something for a third time that I haven't touched or needed. Strangely enough, spices fell in this category. As I was cleaning out the cupboards and got to my so-called spice shelf, I seriously looked at the labels on the spices. If I had to guess the average age of my stash, I would go with 8 to 10 years old. 

Unlike last time where I had stuff in three different places, I have simplified my life to two two and 1/2 different places. The storage unit in Albert Lea (200 sq ft) is about 75% full; my garage has been coverted in to a staging area where I'm putting all the boxes and bins that are full and then the rest is in the apartment - some in half-full boxes, some sitting on a table waiting for its fate to be determined and the rest that have to remain unpacked until the last moment. 

I pray that no emergencies happen that would require a clear pathway in or out of my apartment. If so, I'm doomed. 

Meanwhile...

It's been a crazy couple of months since I made the decision to move back to Albert Lea. The toughest and most important decision was where was I going to live. Smaller communities don't have many strong options for renting. And I'm kinda picky.

In the middle of it, I was presented with the possibility of owning a home. It was something I hadn't even considered, but the possibility was a bit intoxicating. So, it was a bit of downer when the option was taken off the table.

Soon after true reality sunk in, I spent an evening in Albert Lea looking for a place. First I went to the apartment complex that I had always thought I would like, to meet up with the rental agent. I waited and I waited and I called and didn't get a call back. While waiting, I started to cross the apartment off my list, thinking I had built it up in my head as something that it wasn't. After waiting 25 minutes, it was off to see three more places to rent. 

The first one was a house in a great neighborhood and when I pulled up, I couldn't believe how big it was for what I would be paying. Wrong! I wouldn't be renting the house, I would be renting a tiny two-bedroom mother-in-law's suite on top of the garage. No thanks.

The next was a townhouse that was on the opposite side of town, but it was roomy, had a detached garage and a washer & dryer.  The third one was even more out of the way, but had a nice layout, a washer & dryer hook-up (not the actual appliances) and an attached garage. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but I didn't think I had many more options. I told the rental agent that I would take the application home and send it to him that weekend. 

As I was driving out of town to head back to Rochester, my phone rang and it was the rental agent from the apartments I had given up on. He had spaced the meeting and would be happy to show me the place right now if I was still around. I agreed and headed back to meet him.

The DON

Even though I had sort of written it off, I still remained hopeful. It was the best decision of the evening.

Robert, the agent, apologized for forgetting the appointment. He had been helping to move one of the current tenant out of the apartment he was about to show me. The DON apartments were built in 1927 and have that quality of 1920s style. DON stood for the Dormitory of Nursing as it was built about a block away from Naeve Hospital. It's now Mayo Clinic Health System Albert Lea and it's no longer one block away - it's across the street. 

Floor plan

There were so many reasons why I shouldn't have liked it. No air conditioning, but if I buy A/C units, Robert and the caretaker will install them. (!) No dishwasher or microwave in the kitchen. No washer/dryer in the unit, not even the hook-ups, but the coin operated washers/dryers were just below my unit. It's got an attached garage. 

I fell in love with it and wrote out the deposit check before I left. 

Why? In a word - location, location, location. 

It's right by the lake and I'm excited that I'll be able to get up each morning and take a walk around the lake (about five miles). It's within walking distance of downtown Albert Lea with a great little coffee shop, a fun/casual locally-owned bar, the community theater and the weekly Farmer's Market. It's also across the street from Mayo. So, if I ever have wi-fi or VPN connection problems, I can just cross the street and solve my problem. They might not have an office space I can use, but I'll just hang out in the cafeteria that overlooks the lake.

So, next Monday, the moving van is packing me up and moving me home. 

Next blog post - The joys of packing with ADD. Or I could just repost this one from my last move "The 800-pound Squirrel In the Room"- the situations are pretty much the same.  

Going home

I'm ready to challenge Thomas Wolfe and prove him wrong. "You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood." Just watch me.

Back in March, I wrote a post about the six week telework pilot that allowed me to work from home half time. It's been a great experience and while I haven't yet met with my boss to confirm that we're going to continue this arrangement, she also hasn't given me any sign that this experiment didn't work.

At the end of that blog post, I mentioned that the ability to telework half time would allow me to live anywhere I want. As the month of April started, I received a letter from the landlord that told me that the rent was going up and I had to let them know by May 1st if I was renewing my lease for another year.

Time to make a decision.

Time to stop telling friends that I'm thinking about it and take the step forward. I haven't been thinking about this in a vacuum; I've heard opinions from lots of different people.

I know there are some, possibly related to me, that may think it's slightly nuts of me to do this.  (and they wouldn't use the term 'slightly' to describe how nuts they think I am) I listened to my brother-in-law Paul and his thoughts about making the move. The practicality of winter driving and the fact that my car is nearing the end of the forcibly extended life and that I was going to need something dependable sooner rather than later.

There was  an article in the March 2013 issue of Real Simple magazine entitled "back where I belong" by Rod Dreher, that brought home the decision I had ahead of me.

The author shares the story of how he ended up moving from big town Philadelphia back to his hometown after being away for years. The sad twist to the story is that he only realized the value of small town life when his sister, who had always lived in their hometown, passed away from cancer. He saw, during the months leading up to her death, how the community showered love and compassion on her.

But, it was the conversation with my friend Jessie that helped me get right with myself for this decision and realize it's a no-brainer. Jessie and I don't get to see each other a lot, but when we do, we often act as sounding boards to each other.  We met Sunday night at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis for dinner and a play.

Her one simple question, "what is your circle of friends like in Rochester," showed the reality of my life. Socially, besides my family here, it's very limited. I have friends here, but not 'hanging-out-friends.'

"And," she continued, "it's not like your family is going to stop inviting you to hang out if you move to Albert Lea." I hope not, Sunday dinners at the Knutson's is one of my favorite parts of the week. Being closer to family here in Rochester than I have in the past 20 years has been outstanding. It's the best part of living here.

Then Jessie followed up with, "what is your circle of friends like in Albert Lea?" I smiled, then smirked. When thinking of my Albert Lea friends, the phrase 'circle of friends' is usually capitalized to "Circle of Friends." In the 22+ years since I've been gone, those friendships have remained strong and have even grown.

Way back in 1988, Jessie and I met and became friends in Albert Lea during a community theater production of "Anything Goes."  When I mentioned to her how I knew it wouldn't be long before I was back at the theater and singing at church, she smiled and said, "you're going back to Albert Lea. It's a no-brainer."

"I'm going back to Albert Lea," I said calmly. Then it became, "Oh my God, I'm moving back to Albert Lea."

But I'm not thinking of it as moving to Albert Lea as much I think of it as I'm going home.

My Blue Coat

Bell ringing for the Salvation Army wearing
my blue coat. The red spring Santa cap
is optional.

It's time to put away my winter coats and it got me thinking about my blue coat ... 

The first World Synchronized Skating Championship was held in Minneapolis in 2000 and I was one of the volunteers. There are always vendors at skating competitions, usually companies selling skating dresses, skating jewelry, and skating knick-knacks.

One of the vendors at the competition was a Canadian company called Blue Skies <no longer in business> and they sold team uniforms (dresses, warm-ups, outerwear). I might not have taken a second look at them except for the cobalt blue coat that they were selling. It's the one color that always draws my eyes.

It was a beautiful long coat made of fleece with black trim on the collar, cuffs and at the bottom edge of the bodice. It had a hood with black fur and a matching scarf.

I had to have that coat. But Blue Skies wasn't the type of retailer that lets you buy off the rack. Every coat was custom-made for the individual. They measured the length of my arms, not just for the sleeves, but to determine the best location for the pockets. (So, when I put my hands in my pockets, the finger tips touched the bottom of the pocket.)

When they told me the cost, I almost said no. I can't remember the exact cost, but it was more that I had paid for any piece of clothing. The sales person told me that I should think of the coat as an investment and that I would most likely wear it for several years.

If they would have told me that I would still be wearing this coat 13 years later, I'm sure I would have laughed. Who wears a coat for 13 years? But I certainly have gotten my money's worth.

This coat seems to be indestructible. Since it's made from fleece fabric (which is recycled material), it's washable and I usually wash it once or twice a winter. Color has never faded. Since the coat isn't bulky, it packs well for those summer months when I travel for skating competitions. (What? You put your winter coats away for the season?)

I sometimes wonder if my skating peeps roll their eyes when they see me wearing my blue coat each season. If the fabric was worn away anywhere on it - like the cuffs or the collar - maybe I would replace it, but it looks the same as it did on that first day.

I was at a skating competition a few weekends back, but not as a judge. I was on the other side of the rink as the aunt of one of the competitors. Of course, I knew most of the officials there and stopped to chat with them later. One of them told me that she had spotted me across the rink - "I'd recognize that blue coat anywhere."

Shortest Commute I've Ever Had

Couple of weeks back I wrote about my "experiment" of dumping cable TV and only having Apple TV. After six weeks, it's going okay. Not sure I'm cut out for doing this permanently, but worth giving it a try. 

My next experiment starts tomorrow when I start a six week pilot of part-time telework. I guess Mayo Clinic has decided not to add any more office space in downtown Rochester. Some department are making it optional, while other areas are downsizing their work space footprint and having only drop-down space for when staff has to be on campus. 

Public Affairs is just starting to get into telework with a handful of people opting in. When it became an option, a very large and very bright light bulb went on in my head. If I were to telework, I could live anywhere I wanted. And where I've been wanting to live, for let's say the last 20 years, is Albert Lea. 

When I moved to the Twin Cities in 1991, it was supposed to have been temporary, at least it was in my mind. I'm pretty sure that I went home every weekend I could. By the time I purchased my condo in '97, I had come to the realization that I might never be moving back to home, so I should find a more permanent home. I just couldn't imagine an scenario where I could live in Albert Lea and still work in my chosen career (nonprofit management) and be able to pay my bills. 

Back to the whole telework pilot...

My ideal set-up is what we're going to be piloting - I'll work Monday, Tuesday and every other Wednesday "in office" and then Thursday, Friday and the other Wednesdays from home. So much of what I do can be done at home, in the comfort of my sweats. When I've worked from home before, those days turn out to be highly productive because I'm not racing off to a meeting or getting distracted by other conversations, etc. I know that I'll never be a 100 percent work-from-home person as I need the human interaction, but I think I'll like doing this on a regular schedule. 

After the six weeks are up, my manager and I will evaluate the pilot and make the decision if telework becomes a permanent plan or not. If it does, then I'll have to make the decision of where I will live come this July 1 - Rochester or Albert Lea or ???

A Physical Manifestation of Friendship

If you've read my blog before, you might have heard me talk about my life-long best friend, Mary. (Click here to read our story) We've been best friends since third grade and until college, it was rare that you saw one without the other. 

Best friends often do activities or sports together. Mary and I joined the figure skating club about the same time, but other things interested her more. 

She went into gymnastics - the girl was super flexible. (I have memories of her putting her foot behind her head <from the front of the body> and me telling her to stop that!) So while Mary was in gymnastics, I was at the ice arena. 

Mary studied ballet. I took ballet, too (to help with my skating), but while I was learning the five positions, Mary was on pointe. 

Mary was in band. I was in choir. 

I've always wondered what it would have been like if we would have had interest in the same sport and trained together. 

Recently, I saw what that looked like. I saw the physical manifestation of friendship. 

Two young women, friends since they were toddlers, Syd and Bryn have played basketball together for about as long as they've been able to dribble a ball. When they are on the court together, there's a certain amount of synchronicity to their play that isn't as dominant with the other players. 

Maybe I see it this way because I don't know as much about basketball as others (didn't play it - hard to dribble a ball on ice skates), but that doesn't mean I'm wrong. I would guess that their coaches, and maybe their parents (who are sometimes both), would say it's from years of practice and playing together. 

Nope, not buying it. It's not just about practicing. There are plenty of people who practice, practice, practice and never master this. 

• In their playing, I see trust. Trust that the other person will be there when they need them.
• I see knowledge. Knowledge of what the other person is capable of and how to help them succeed. 
• I see confidence. Confidence that their friend pushes them to be the best they can be. 

I see the physical manifestation of friendship. And it's pretty cool. And I could sit and watch it for hours.