Our Stepping Stone

It seemed destined that Seattle was in our future.

From the time I was eleven years old, after participating in a softball tournament in Mankato, it had been my desire to live in Minnesota. I don't know what it was, but for some reason or other I loved the entire atmosphere of the place. The feeling of being "up North" was so alluring. And hard to ignore.

Someday, I swore to my (then) young self, I will live in Minnesota.

Now that might not seem like a huge dream. Considering I was already living in Iowa, Minnesota wasn't really that far away or that grand of a place to relocate to. One might think I should have had a desire to move somewhere far more interesting and exciting, like New York or Los Angeles, Miami or Washington, D.C.

But no. The desires of my youth were all pointed toward Minnesota. The lakes. The cooler weather. The pine trees. Minneapolis. Lake Superior. The Edmund Fitzgerald... I was fascinated by anything and everything "Minnesota."

At the age of twenty-six, I saw my dream fulfilled. In October of 2003, Chris and I packed up a U-haul and made the six hour trek from Sioux City to Woodbury, Minnesota. It was a big move for us and, I might add, quite a leap of faith. I say that with a fairly dramatized air because we actually rented our townhouse in Minnesota before having actual jobs there. But as Chris's current company was resituating itself down in Arkansas, we figured getting up North would avoid a transfer down South. (We had initially weighed the pros and cons of a move to Arkansas and, thankfully, the cons won.)

Minnesota. Minnesota, Minnesota, Minnesota. Ah, Minnesota. An interesting three years, to say the least.

After two and a half years in Viking Country, however, I started to get stir crazy. I suddenly found myself craving another move, a new adventure. Yearning for new scenery. And literally aching for new surroundings.

Even though we were enjoying our time in Minnesota, I couldn't help but feeling restless. We had been talking about settling down and buying a house in the 'burbs, but for some reason neither of us really seemed that determined to follow through with any of the listings we checked out. Our life seemed to be hanging in limbo. It was almost like we were waiting for something. We just didn't know what.

I remember one day in particular, while we were driving down I-694 and heading toward another lazy day at White Bear Lake, when that stir-crazy-butterfly-flapping feeling got to be too much to ignore. I turned to Chris, studied his profile for a moment, and popped the question. "Do you really want to live here for the rest of your life?" He glanced sideways at me, a quizzical look in his eye. He then, much to my surprise and relief, made the comment that no, he wouldn't mind moving and experiencing another state. But, he was also quick to point out, how and where? Having just seen a special on the Travel Channel featuring the Pike Place Market, I suggested Seattle. Chris nodded but gently reminded me that we lived in Minnesota and Seattle was half a country away. At the time, we just couldn't take on a big, expensive move like that. And I, reluctantly, agreed.

But I still dreamed.

About a month later, I had a friendly interaction with a wonderful psychic. She informed me that a move to the West Coast was in my future. Hmmm. My interest was piqued.

Fast forward a few months to the end of September. It was a pleasantly cool Thursday evening and I was relaxing comfortably at home while chatting with my boss on the phone. He had just returned from Italy and was filling me in on the exciting trip. At one point in the conversation, he told me about the American tour guide he met while visiting the Colosseum. Apparently, through amazing extenuating circumstances, this particular man had gone from teaching history in America to giving guided tours in Rome. "How cool," I commented. And then, in a whiney, pathetic, unappreciative voice, "Argh - exciting things like that never happen to me."

Ever the optimist, my boss tried to make the point that anything can happen, that life can change in an instant. "Lisa," he said in his stern, confident attorney-like voice, "you never know what tomorrow will bring. Anything is possible."

Right.

Well, the very next day, Chris was let go from his job. The company he had been working for went bankrupt and cut everyone loose immediately. Without severance.

For a week Chris and I sat in wounded astonishment, contemplating our options. Finally, one week to the day that he had been let go, he received a call from a company that had worked closely with his former employer. They needed help finishing up a project in the area and wondered if he'd be interested. It would only be for a few months, but it was a paycheck. Chris immediately jumped at the chance and went in to meet with the company's big wigs.

Well, long story short, that company turned out to be based out of the Seattle area. And they liked Chris enough to give him a job. And hire him on full time after that project was done. And pay for our move out here...

It was all relatively quick. And very painless. We said good-bye to Minnesota with the same amount of exuberance we had given Iowa three years earlier.

Just the other day, Chris pointed out the amazing fact that we've now been out here for a little over two years. The time has flown by; it feels like we just arrived yesterday. Yet, at the same time, it feels like we've been out here all our lives. That may not make sense, but it is what it is.

So far, I haven't gotten that stir-crazy-butterfly-flapping feeling back in my stomach. In fact, I feel rather content. Turns out my frantic need to get to Minnesota was valid, I was just a bit misled. Minnesota wasn't our future, it was our stepping stone. A midway point on the way to our true destiny.

The Pacific Northwest.

These shots are hardly artistic... Rather, they represent the sentimental vibe of our move out West. Note how the dogs were packed into the Jeep like sardines... Ah, memories. :)