Our little place in the Midwest PROLOGUE

The Year in Review

Over the last year my bedroom has stretched around the globe. Since saying goodbye to college, California and my favorite friend in May 2012, each season has brought a new home.

Summer 

My first place (EVER!) was a rundown motel in a abandoned town, on Highway 75, 14 miles from Stanley, ID. Mice scurried as I tried to sleep and the floorboards were one termite from utter destruction, but there were mountain top views beyond my bed. Outside a hammock balanced lanky limbs and a copy of War & Peace until the sunset.

My front yard, seriously. 

Fall/Southern Hemisphere Spring

Preston and I rented the balcony bedroom of a historic Sydney terrace home. The house sat above a brick laid park, with sidewalks were roads would be. Within twenty steps north or south was a pub, library, church and park. The house was furnished with an Ozzy man, an Irish lass, a South African dude and a very fat something-or-other cat. While living in Ultimo, we battled coach roaches, celebrated a summertime Christmas and wandered down the way to watch Sydney's Harbor fireworks.

Sydneysiders

Winter/Southern Hemisphere Summer

In the spirit of the bedtime classic Town Mouse, Country Mouse we booked one way tickets to the WA, to WOOF on a southern forest cattle farm. A campervan of our very own dwelled between pasture land and gum tree dells.  Morning, noon and night were met with cups of black tea and accented conversation. Between cuppas Preston served as a cow midwife and taught ukelele lessons, while I drove the family tractor. Kangaroo was ate, hay was hauled and the southern cross was bright.

The Farm

Winterish Spring/The Heat of Southern Hemisphere Summer/Between Here and There

Mid-February we moved to Manjimup Hostel, to live with our own kind, backpackers. The kitchen was dirty. The techno were ceaseless. And the goon, though very very expensive, was plentiful. Every morning we picked grapes with real-life Italians, harvested Apples with Belgians and worked in the fields with Taiwanese girls. The friendships were easy and the days were long.

Manji Nightlife

Before leaving the little bit of England and little bit of rough-n-tumble known as the land down under, we visited Perth.  Free black and white movies, bushels of Subway cookies and a terrible church service whiled away our city days. We never made it to Freo or the park across the city. But we lived in old barracks and slept in a thirty person room reminiscent of a Cambodian orphanage. The capitol city, and home of Heath Ledger, also marked the meeting of our final Australian friend, Seemoo.

Spring/The Hot Season(because that is a season in Thailand)

We had never planned to go to Thailand. It just seemed like the obvious next step, a quick escape route to beaches and Pad Thai. We went without plans.

Bankok's Cheapest/Most Interesting Hostel

Thailand is a place for being lost. We never quite knew what we were eating, where we were going or what we were seeing. Our feet led us down whichever way we hadn't been before. Bangkok was hot in way that my California sensibilities had never known. Two (hot, cold water does not exist) showers a day was the bare-minimum. We lived in a rundown building-turned hostel across from the outer suburb's brothel while learning Bangkok bus routes. Meals were a buffet of fresh pineapple, fried bananas and a few mystery pieces. We made home in an island hut, an old colonial city and above a Muy Thai arena. South East Asia was like nothing I had ever known before.

Summer

After a lunch stop in Tokyo we made it back to California just in time for my sister's graduation. June was a time for sandy toes and home-spun parties. Streamers were tapped up once a week in celebration of birthdays, graduations and a Christmas Fiesta. Trips to Trader Joe's and Target were a constant. Preston and I tromped around the paved paradises of Disneyland and Legoland. Once again I drove the familiar canyon roads that lead to my Pacific. And I as I prepared for my Midwest migration I started a blog.

The Welcome Home/Happy Graduation/Bon Voyage/Fish Funeral Party

Fall

For the first time since high school I will be residing in a single residence for an entire year. The lease has been signed and the pictures hung. Fargo is our first year-round home. We've witnessed the leaves the change and the first snow fall. I eat pasta salad and drink micro-brews. I haven been to Wal-Mart an ungodly amount of times. The people are kind the roads are wide. We own a couch; this is home. 

Cozy Sunday

Meet Minnesota

After a chatty airport shuttle crew, christening my carry-on's maiden voyage and splurging on a coconut water I finally made it to the midwest. Along the way I ran into thunderstorms above Denver and managed to stow a two foot canvas painting (thanks to a few accommodating and  rule-breaking flight attendants). I am pleased to announce that Fargo's  International* Airport has a fully functioning "Deer Hunter" video game and several Bobcats tractors artfully arranged at baggage claim.

* I assume Winnipeg is where that International title is earned

My journey concluded during my first ride down twilight freeways and thin whisky roads. A land without streetlights or lane reflectors, Minnesota stills looks to the stars for illumination. The next day's sun revealed the endless green of southern Minnesota.

I'd like to introduce you to Otter Tail County Minnesota. 

Cottonwood

The Farm

Dirt Roads

Woods

The Lakehouse

Battle Lake Views

Adios Arbole

I had a perfect drive today. Every song that came on the radio hit just right. My rolled-down window view of the Los Angeles  hills created the happiness found at home. The only thing out of place was the accent of sadness that chimed, "all is fleeting".

Thousand Oaks, California

Today is my last day in southern California. It isn't the first time I have left, but it's the first time I don't know when I'll be back. Instead of missing the place I know best, I am going to be grateful for bits of living that belong just here.

I am grateful for year round Pacific swims.

I am grateful for the smell of canyon trails and the chill of hillside shadows.

I am grateful for cars, and freeways and traffic.

I am grateful for mountaintops just beyond my driveway.

I am grateful for spanish courtyards, avenidas and fountains.

I am grateful for all my alma maters.

I am grateful for the big city over the hill.

And I am grateful for all 1,000 oaks, 

Like the tide rolls and retreats from the shore, my time in Thousand Oaks slips back into the ocean; an ocean that never fails to send another wave.

my bags are packed, I'm ready to go

The Dream

In my head packing is a very glamourous thing. My collection of dream cardigans are perfectly folded and placed on top of my origami-esque dark denim blue jeans. I breeze through my deep closet and easily select my favorite timeless blouse hanging on a dark mahogany wooden hanger. The event is concluded with the pianissimo rumble of a unstrained and fully operational zipper.

Outside of my head, packing is primarily sorting through a kindergartener-sized mound of wrinkled clothes. Channeling Zeus atop Mt. Olympus my mom intervenes from the couch on behalf of every garment I plan to ditch.  Thanks to her charity and my weak will, I am now travelling with ...FOUR FULL SUITCASES!!!! OIY! (however one is a carry-on, so it's just 3 1/2, right?) But at least the clothes are light. My other essential items are not so feathery.

My Quirk

I don't care for shoes, or jewels. I am not overall invested in stuff.  I do enjoy candles and have a pretty rocking lava lamp. And I love my photo albums. But those can remain on display in my hibernating southern California bedroom. My books, however, must come! As well as three different kinds of magnets.

Legoland Memento Magnets!!

Hebrew Alphabet Magnets!!

Target $1 Impulse Buy Magnet!!

After a very selective draft I whittled the competition down to twenty or thirty must-haves (probably closer to thirty). While choosing my "Fantasy Literature Team" it dawned on me that there must be something personally linked and essential to the books we love best.  As if just by looking at the books any one person would fill a suitcase with, I could know more about them than a facebook feed or instagram post could reveal.

In a similiar vein, idealbookshelf.com creates custom pieces of art featuring your favorite stories. You can even take a peek at a few famous face's "shelves". While I did enjoy internet snooping through James Franco's favorite titles, I  would prefer organizing bookshelves around the world, that's a job  right?

these bad boys will also be fleeing the state with me

The first real conversation my best friend Melanie and I  had revolved around our mutual love for M*A*S*H* and Scarlett O'Hara. The sacredness of Tara and Hawkeye's wily misdemeanours belonged to an essentialness of both of us. The stories we love are templates for the  living we do, the battles we wage and the friends we love.

But alas, there is a more important subject matter when considering packing...

The Question

Q:What is the perfect packing outfit when one is moving from California to North Dakota?

A: A refined ensemble that reflects your deep appreciation for your home, a reminder of another faovrite location and the an exciting accent piece in spirit of your new home. 


When undertaking a merciless task such as pack style is essential.

Voila! 

California Tank, Stanley, Idaho Yoga Pants & the world's most beautiful Uggs

Forward

I am moving to a place I have never been before. It isn't the first time and probably won't be the last. The unknown and underrated always seem to know my name; and each calls to me at just the right moment. I fall for those places least likely to land on a "Top Ten Best Places to Vacation this Summer". And my gut just knows that Fargo North Dakota is going to be a new and special kind of home.


Bets have placed at how long I'll last. My Uncle Mike, has dibs on a Thanksgiving retreat. And yeah, I know it's cold. Well not really.

I have done my research, and discovered that:

1)North Dakota is covered in snow from October to May

2)-30 is a real temperature

3)People and even whole communities can survive in -30

4) There is a thing called "Wind Chill"


 I was raised in a hilly and warm suburb of Los Angeles, and other than a semester in Prague, Czech Republic I have never really lived, visited or been in snow. To clue you in to my clueless-ness I didn't even pack socks for Prague. But lucky for me, Central Europe has many socks and some pretty cool snow jackets too.

Me in my super sweet Czech-made snow jacket

 Franz Kafka Museum, Prague, CZ

After graduating college my boyfriend and I dove down under for the year. As our summer time Christmas rolled around our European friends moped about the unfestive warm weather and "inauthenticity" of  a sunshine filled advent. The Ozzy Nativity  felt like one of the many magical childhood Christmas Days I spent swimming in my Aunt and Uncle's pool.

Preston & I at our neighborhood's live Nativity

Ultimo, Sydney, AUS

But for the sake of newness and armed with a double dose of wanderlust, I find myself headed to the great plains of America. And I just cannot wait.