When Life Hands You Lemons... If you're me, you have to ponder them for a while, but then you figure out how to make lemonade, with a lot of sweetness and love.
Linda, thank you very much! I remind myself that I am fortunate: no one is bombing my country, I have plenty to eat and a comfy place to live (until someone buys it!) and I can afford to move. So lemons are relative. Still, it will be hard to leave here.
Well, hell, Nell.. is what my Mom would say. I am grieving with you for the necessity of leaving your beloved home.
You would think life would leave you at your ease for a bit. But it seems more adventure is ahead of you.
I am sending all the light I can to help you on your journey to your next heart's home. And I know the universe is full of goodness just waiting for you.
How sorry I am...but how excited too. May your path be smooth, my friend.
Kathleen, I love your mom's expression! I'm stealing it, if you don't mind. :) And thank you for your thoughts and your support. I know I will find a good place to land; I just thought that this was my place and I wouldn't have to even think about finding another one. Such is life. Hugs to you there in the shadow of the Blue Ridge....
Oh nuts! I’m so sorry you have to move again! Your little casa is so perfect! You are a great example of resilience and for people like me who are living with complex chronic diseases, a beacon of hope, that life can be fully enjoyed by being adaptive! May your heart and eyes be open to the next place to live and may your body tell you when you are home again🙏🏽
Nuts, indeed! (And of course, that makes me wonder what kind of nuts go with lemons...) I think the hardest part of living with complex chronic conditions is that we keep having to adjust. Just when we think we have things sort-of figured out, some balance shifts and there's more adapting to do. But we can adapt, and in the adapting, sometimes we find strengths and capabilities we didn't know we had. I know that's something you are learning for yourself. Thank you for the thoughts and the good wishes and support!
Oooof, that's a big lemon to have to digest, Susan. I know the beauty of this land and what it might feel like to contemplate leaving it, but it's also so good that you are valuing your physical health and I just know that your next home will offer you everything you need, on every level. I do hope you stay fairly close by. Blessings to you.
Yeah, it's not what I was imagining or planning on, but that's life. Especially life with my own particular health. Thanks for the good wishes and blessings, Maia!
This is a beautiful piece about a crummy situation. You are brave and resilient, but I am sorry that you have needed to be on so many occasions. I am sending good energy and vibes.
Thank you, Christina. (Especially for the compliment on my writing!) I very much appreciate your words and your thoughts, and those good vibes. Adapting really is one of my strengths; I use wasn't thinking I would have to adapt in this particular way. So it goes.
I understand so well what this means for you. I have a mix of autoimmune diseases, and on my last trip to the mountains and pines that I love, I suffered from the elevation so badly I almost ended up in the hospital while on the road alone with two of my animals. It was not only scary. It was frustrating. I'd hoped to return to that area in retirement. It's the only place cool enough for me to live (I'm also badly affected by heat.) and be closer to family. While I'm a few years older than you (71), the physical and emotional journey took place a few years ago. I've always lived by saying when things change, make a new plan. My plans and revisions would fill a house.
Penny, I am so sorry to hear that the elevation made you so sick on your trip into the mountains that you nearly ended up in the hospital! And I am also very sorry that you cannot return to live there because of that. It's hard to give up that kind of dream and that kind of bond. I have to say that your last phrase made me chuckle--"My plans and revisions would fill a house." Indeed! My life resembles that statement. Many blessings as you adapt as best you can.
Sending you love and light. You will make a home for yourself wherever you choose to live, and email and the internet and Zoom (not ever as good as a warm hug) can still bring us together. You are always welcome in our humble Placitas adobe hacienda when you need the desert for a visit, if you are able. And you will take care of yourself, as you must. But we are very sad to see you go!
Thank you so much, Phyllis! I am a mite frazzled right now, getting ready to dash out of the house because it's showing in a few minutes, but I will definitely keep your warm thoughts and generous offer in mind. Hugs to you!
You have always been so resilient and strong- one of the MANY traits we all love about you! I am saddened to hear that you need to leave that land you love but trust you will be able to return for shorter visits and you will find your next terraphilia! Sending you love on that journey!
Dearest Kathie, I appreciate the reminder, because right now I just feel frazzled and a bit unmoored. But I'm headed on the road this weekend to look at one of the places I have in mind (Montrose) and will take the love you send along with me. Thank you and warm hugs back to you.
I love Santa Fe; what a bummer you must leave. I try to look for the positive—this is another one of those life lessons that just may open us to a new adventure. Here in Tucson we have lots of adobe houses and flowering cactus. Plus I love being able to see nearby mountains always.
A few years ago I developed a clot in one of my lungs which caused a twenty percent drop in lung capacity, so I have an idea where you are coming from.
When I get down, I sing, which never fails to push me up again.
Yikes! A clog in your lung is no small thing. I hope it was safely broken up before it did permanent damage.
Tucson is a lovely city, and I have some family roots there: My folks lived there for 26 years, and my great-grandfather (the botanist who I take after, apparently) moved there in 1903 to study the desert. (My great-grandmother painted the desert and raised my granddad and his brother while Dr. William did research on desert plants.) But it's too hot for me.
And yes, this is just another life challenge to learn from! But I'm not going to sing unless no one can hear me. :) Hugs back to you!
I am so sorry to hear about this sudden reality. It is heartbreaking to create and then leave the energy you have invested. As someone entwined with place and home, I share your sorrow. The journey of aging is never easy. I'm a hugger, so I am sending you a virtual hug, wrapping energy and wisdom for this next journey.
It is hard, Sue, and thanks for understanding that, plus sending the virtual hug plus energy and wisdom. I'm still feeling a bit frazzled and unmoored. The house only went on the market yesterday evening but already has a showing, so I need to figure out where to go before it sells out from under me!
I am not surprised - your home is beautiful. The process of relocation is nerve-wracking. There's no sagebrush scent in the Columbia River gorge but ...
There is actually tons of sagebrush in the Columbia River gorge, where the fires haven't burned it off. But I don't do well near sea level--the humidity makes my joints very painful. My brother and family live in western WA, and my bro and SIL have land on the Klickitat, so I've spent quite a bit of time there in the gorge. It's, well, gorgeous, but not for me.
I'm so sorry for such sour lemons, Susan, but grateful you have a supportive community to help make that lemonade. Wishing you much wonder, beauty, and love as you create your new home.
Courtney, Thank you so much. I am fortunate in that my lemons are pretty small stuff compared to a lot of people in the world--I'm not where bombs are falling or people are killing each other, I have enough to eat, and I can afford to move. So all in all not so bad in the relative sense. And thank you for those good wishes. Blessings!
I'm so sorry you're going to have to move again, Susan, especially, when you thought you were done. We think we're moving next year so that I can be closer to where my husband works in Iowa. Unlike your situation, it's not a surprise and doesn't involve health stuff, but moving is work! Adaptability is a hard earned and very useful skill. Bless you during this time of change.
Oh, Emily! I hope if you do move, you find a really wonderful space to create a new garden and refuge. Moving is always work, it's true. Even when you have as much practice as I do. And thank you for your empathy and thoughtfulness. Right now, I'm feeling frazzled and unmoored, but this too will pass. Blessings to you too!
Yes, the garden is the hardest thing to leave here. But I have every intention of creating a new one, I’ve done it each place I’ve lived. Frazzled and unmoored sounds about right and completely expected given the circumstances. And as you say, it will pass, which is such a good thing to know!
Hi, Susan. Oh, my gosh, this news came as a shock. I am sorry you are facing yet another move after finally landing where you thought you would be forever. I also know your resiliency and can-do positive attitude will rise again and carry you on your journey. Some special place is waiting for you, I just know it. Sending you hugs and strength and healing energy, dear Susan.
Dear Jacque, It was a shock to me too, believe me! And thank you for your support and thoughtful comments. I do believe that I will find a special place to be, I'm just feeling a little frazzled and unmoored at the moment. The hugs and healing energy help!
I’m so sorry to hear you need to move, Susan. Somehow, just knowing you lived up the road (so to speak) always brought me joy. Sending lots of sugar to go with your lemons. Blessings 🙏🌀
Morgan, thank you for the chuckle about sending sugar to sweeten my lemons! I'm sorry we never managed to connect in person, but perhaps that will still happen. Life is always a mystery and usually interesting. Blessings back to you!
Holding you in healing energy and light.
Linda, thank you very much! I remind myself that I am fortunate: no one is bombing my country, I have plenty to eat and a comfy place to live (until someone buys it!) and I can afford to move. So lemons are relative. Still, it will be hard to leave here.
Well, hell, Nell.. is what my Mom would say. I am grieving with you for the necessity of leaving your beloved home.
You would think life would leave you at your ease for a bit. But it seems more adventure is ahead of you.
I am sending all the light I can to help you on your journey to your next heart's home. And I know the universe is full of goodness just waiting for you.
How sorry I am...but how excited too. May your path be smooth, my friend.
Love, Kathleen
Kathleen, I love your mom's expression! I'm stealing it, if you don't mind. :) And thank you for your thoughts and your support. I know I will find a good place to land; I just thought that this was my place and I wouldn't have to even think about finding another one. Such is life. Hugs to you there in the shadow of the Blue Ridge....
We've always wondered exactly who Nell was...lol
Sending fierce hugs to you.
Lol indeed! That makes it an even better expression. :) xo, S
Oh nuts! I’m so sorry you have to move again! Your little casa is so perfect! You are a great example of resilience and for people like me who are living with complex chronic diseases, a beacon of hope, that life can be fully enjoyed by being adaptive! May your heart and eyes be open to the next place to live and may your body tell you when you are home again🙏🏽
Nuts, indeed! (And of course, that makes me wonder what kind of nuts go with lemons...) I think the hardest part of living with complex chronic conditions is that we keep having to adjust. Just when we think we have things sort-of figured out, some balance shifts and there's more adapting to do. But we can adapt, and in the adapting, sometimes we find strengths and capabilities we didn't know we had. I know that's something you are learning for yourself. Thank you for the thoughts and the good wishes and support!
Oooof, that's a big lemon to have to digest, Susan. I know the beauty of this land and what it might feel like to contemplate leaving it, but it's also so good that you are valuing your physical health and I just know that your next home will offer you everything you need, on every level. I do hope you stay fairly close by. Blessings to you.
Yeah, it's not what I was imagining or planning on, but that's life. Especially life with my own particular health. Thanks for the good wishes and blessings, Maia!
So sorry to read your news. No doubt you will find the right and best place to set down roots and form your new community. Best wishes.
Thank you very much, Janet. Life is what it is, and we do our best with what we get....
This is a beautiful piece about a crummy situation. You are brave and resilient, but I am sorry that you have needed to be on so many occasions. I am sending good energy and vibes.
Thank you, Christina. (Especially for the compliment on my writing!) I very much appreciate your words and your thoughts, and those good vibes. Adapting really is one of my strengths; I use wasn't thinking I would have to adapt in this particular way. So it goes.
I understand so well what this means for you. I have a mix of autoimmune diseases, and on my last trip to the mountains and pines that I love, I suffered from the elevation so badly I almost ended up in the hospital while on the road alone with two of my animals. It was not only scary. It was frustrating. I'd hoped to return to that area in retirement. It's the only place cool enough for me to live (I'm also badly affected by heat.) and be closer to family. While I'm a few years older than you (71), the physical and emotional journey took place a few years ago. I've always lived by saying when things change, make a new plan. My plans and revisions would fill a house.
Penny, I am so sorry to hear that the elevation made you so sick on your trip into the mountains that you nearly ended up in the hospital! And I am also very sorry that you cannot return to live there because of that. It's hard to give up that kind of dream and that kind of bond. I have to say that your last phrase made me chuckle--"My plans and revisions would fill a house." Indeed! My life resembles that statement. Many blessings as you adapt as best you can.
Oh, Susan, I am so sorry you have to move again. Love, Tito
Thank you so much, Tito. I'll be okay. It's just another adaptation, if not an easy one....
Sending you love and light. You will make a home for yourself wherever you choose to live, and email and the internet and Zoom (not ever as good as a warm hug) can still bring us together. You are always welcome in our humble Placitas adobe hacienda when you need the desert for a visit, if you are able. And you will take care of yourself, as you must. But we are very sad to see you go!
Thank you so much, Phyllis! I am a mite frazzled right now, getting ready to dash out of the house because it's showing in a few minutes, but I will definitely keep your warm thoughts and generous offer in mind. Hugs to you!
You have always been so resilient and strong- one of the MANY traits we all love about you! I am saddened to hear that you need to leave that land you love but trust you will be able to return for shorter visits and you will find your next terraphilia! Sending you love on that journey!
Dearest Kathie, I appreciate the reminder, because right now I just feel frazzled and a bit unmoored. But I'm headed on the road this weekend to look at one of the places I have in mind (Montrose) and will take the love you send along with me. Thank you and warm hugs back to you.
I love Santa Fe; what a bummer you must leave. I try to look for the positive—this is another one of those life lessons that just may open us to a new adventure. Here in Tucson we have lots of adobe houses and flowering cactus. Plus I love being able to see nearby mountains always.
A few years ago I developed a clot in one of my lungs which caused a twenty percent drop in lung capacity, so I have an idea where you are coming from.
When I get down, I sing, which never fails to push me up again.
Hugs . . .
Yikes! A clog in your lung is no small thing. I hope it was safely broken up before it did permanent damage.
Tucson is a lovely city, and I have some family roots there: My folks lived there for 26 years, and my great-grandfather (the botanist who I take after, apparently) moved there in 1903 to study the desert. (My great-grandmother painted the desert and raised my granddad and his brother while Dr. William did research on desert plants.) But it's too hot for me.
And yes, this is just another life challenge to learn from! But I'm not going to sing unless no one can hear me. :) Hugs back to you!
I am so sorry to hear about this sudden reality. It is heartbreaking to create and then leave the energy you have invested. As someone entwined with place and home, I share your sorrow. The journey of aging is never easy. I'm a hugger, so I am sending you a virtual hug, wrapping energy and wisdom for this next journey.
It is hard, Sue, and thanks for understanding that, plus sending the virtual hug plus energy and wisdom. I'm still feeling a bit frazzled and unmoored. The house only went on the market yesterday evening but already has a showing, so I need to figure out where to go before it sells out from under me!
I am not surprised - your home is beautiful. The process of relocation is nerve-wracking. There's no sagebrush scent in the Columbia River gorge but ...
There is actually tons of sagebrush in the Columbia River gorge, where the fires haven't burned it off. But I don't do well near sea level--the humidity makes my joints very painful. My brother and family live in western WA, and my bro and SIL have land on the Klickitat, so I've spent quite a bit of time there in the gorge. It's, well, gorgeous, but not for me.
Yes - on the east side of the state there is a beautiful sagebrush steppe.
I'm so sorry for such sour lemons, Susan, but grateful you have a supportive community to help make that lemonade. Wishing you much wonder, beauty, and love as you create your new home.
Courtney, Thank you so much. I am fortunate in that my lemons are pretty small stuff compared to a lot of people in the world--I'm not where bombs are falling or people are killing each other, I have enough to eat, and I can afford to move. So all in all not so bad in the relative sense. And thank you for those good wishes. Blessings!
I'm so sorry you're going to have to move again, Susan, especially, when you thought you were done. We think we're moving next year so that I can be closer to where my husband works in Iowa. Unlike your situation, it's not a surprise and doesn't involve health stuff, but moving is work! Adaptability is a hard earned and very useful skill. Bless you during this time of change.
Oh, Emily! I hope if you do move, you find a really wonderful space to create a new garden and refuge. Moving is always work, it's true. Even when you have as much practice as I do. And thank you for your empathy and thoughtfulness. Right now, I'm feeling frazzled and unmoored, but this too will pass. Blessings to you too!
Yes, the garden is the hardest thing to leave here. But I have every intention of creating a new one, I’ve done it each place I’ve lived. Frazzled and unmoored sounds about right and completely expected given the circumstances. And as you say, it will pass, which is such a good thing to know!
Hi, Susan. Oh, my gosh, this news came as a shock. I am sorry you are facing yet another move after finally landing where you thought you would be forever. I also know your resiliency and can-do positive attitude will rise again and carry you on your journey. Some special place is waiting for you, I just know it. Sending you hugs and strength and healing energy, dear Susan.
Dear Jacque, It was a shock to me too, believe me! And thank you for your support and thoughtful comments. I do believe that I will find a special place to be, I'm just feeling a little frazzled and unmoored at the moment. The hugs and healing energy help!
I’m so sorry to hear you need to move, Susan. Somehow, just knowing you lived up the road (so to speak) always brought me joy. Sending lots of sugar to go with your lemons. Blessings 🙏🌀
Morgan, thank you for the chuckle about sending sugar to sweeten my lemons! I'm sorry we never managed to connect in person, but perhaps that will still happen. Life is always a mystery and usually interesting. Blessings back to you!