Garbage Day

A friend back home told me that things would be different in Montana and that it would be like going back in time a bit. For me, this is mostly a good thing, in fact, a great thing. People are friendly and don’t appear to be moving at an ultra-fast pace all the time.  Individuals bending over with their eyes glued to a smartphone are a rarity. Most I’ve met take the time to chat and get to know me. I’m highly social, so I enjoy that.

One of the first things I learned is that most homes don’t have trash pick up, at least not in the smaller towns. In fact, my real estate agent seemed to think I was a little silly when I asked her about it. “You just go to the container site,” she responded.

The what?

My environmentally-minded Seattle area friends probably remember the days of going to a recycling site up through the 1980s and into the early ’90s.  Well, the container site is kind of like that, but there are also dumpsters for trash. And you have to sort everything else: cardboard, mixed paper, aluminum cans. Plastic, glass or metal cans? Nope. Those just go in the dumpsters. (It’s not a lack of environmental consciousness, though. China has stopped accepting plastic and metals for recycling.)

Therefore, I’ve designated Thursday as garbage day.  I’m sure the novelty will wear off when the temperatures dip or my beloved garage starts to stink.  But right now it’s rather satisfying to sort and dump.

 

 

Garage Love

It’s taken just a little over a week, but I’m in love…with my garage.

Today’s must-do chore was setting up the storage racks in the garage. Not my favorite task, but I had just purchased some used furniture and wanted to start refinishing it. Thus the need to finally organize the garage.

You have to understand something about me. I’m not really a garage person, or at least I didn’t think I was. Sure, I’m a bit handy. I have a cordless drill, finishing sander, and a toolbox with the basics. I need space for my sports equipment, too. But I’ve always thought of garages as yucky, dirty places.  Continue reading “Garage Love”

The Journey Begins

I’ve been saying that I want to write for quite some time. So here I am! Actually, I have only lived “here” for eight days. I’ve packed up and moved to the beautiful state of Montana. Not a second home, but my new home.

I started making plans for this move about a year ago. I was four years out of a divorce, had been teaching for over twenty-five years, and really, really needed to make a change. First, I made lists. What do I really want? How can I truly find contentment? Then, I did quite a bit of reading. Finally, I did some in-person investigating. I visited the places at the top of my list, and then met with real estate agents. I wasn’t messing around or just talking about it; I was doing it.

Besides the divorce, I was at that turning point known as the empty nest. Fortunately, my kids turned out alright and had begun supporting themselves. This is what really opened the door for a big change. (Yes, I do consider myself quite fortunate.) Additionally, I hadn’t been particularly successful in the dating game and was unattached. Many people had told me I was picky. Darn right! Why would I compromise and agree to spend the rest of my life with someone unless he was going to make my life better, and I could do the same for him?  Essentially, there was nothing left to hold me in place.

And that brings me to the purpose of my blog. I just want to share and express myself. I do have some strong opinions, but I’m not out here to create controversy. I’ve had enough of that. I just want to write, and see what happens. I do hope to entertain and hopefully make you laugh, as well as provoke some thoughts.

cloudy sky

Wrestling the Kayak

One of the reasons I moved to the Flathead Valley was the abundance of natural beauty. I wanted a lower-stress life with a greater connection to nature.

I enjoy several outdoor activities but consider myself “intermediate” at pretty much all of them. I don’t do any physical activities to the extreme. Broken bones and painful injuries are just not on my to-do list. I hike, walk, bike, cross country ski, kayak and do yoga.

In the summer, I tend to get on my bike much more than I kayak. Why? Loading that darn piece of plastic on top of a small SUV is not as easy as it looks! Okay, I’m pretty fit, but really, it is just heavy enough, and awkward enough, to make the job difficult.

First, there are the racks. You really have to crank them down on the cross bars. I have a little stool that I stand on to aid in the process, and no, I’m not short; I’m 5′ 7″.

The next step is foisting the kayak up at just the right angle so that it sits correctly in the racks. I learned this by trial and error. My sister and I had a nightmare two-hour drive last summer because I stupidly insisted on bringing the kayak along for our girls’ getaway. That thing was slipping and sliding all over the place while we were driving down I-90.  Anyway, I finally figured out that it’s best if the kayak actually touches the rack (duh) before you tie it down.

Then you have to loop the straps correctly to make adequate contact with both the kayak and the rack. (I know, I know—duh again!) This involves tossing the strap up and around. I’m actually getting pretty good at this. Cinch it down nice and tight, but not too tight.

Finally, you run a rope from the front of the kayak to the front of the car, somewhere. This is your backup plan if the kayak starts slipping.

And don’t forget to pack the oar, life jacket, sunglasses, sunscreen, hat, ID…you know. Really, the oar is the most important. I may have forgotten that once. Oh ya, that was tonight. Luckily, I didn’t have far to turn around, living close to nature and all.

If that doesn’t sound like enough fun, you get to unload the kayak and launch it when you arrive. Then, the best part is after kayaking, you get to load it again.  But this time, your arms are tired from paddling, and that oversized, overweight piece of plastic is wet, adding just a little more of a challenge to the process!

But really, I did have a lovely night kayaking the river. Time for sleep.