We Come as You Are

The Covid-19 shutdown and impact to the economy has roughed us up. Add in some rioting, wildfires, and a presidential election, and 2021 can’t come fast enough. But the dismal truth is the drama will not end when the clock tolls 12:00 AM on January 1st. Normal is now social unrest, quarantines, and zoom. Because of the virus and overpopulation, people flee the urban centers for countryside freedoms, crushing the housing market with their financial resources and defiling peace with their attitudes.

Please understand, there are wonderful people who originate from the golden state, and plenty of jerks born and raised elsewhere. But for the perspective of this post, and the perspective of Oregonians, we are being overrun by immigrants from our southerly neighbor.

Our home in Southern Oregon for the last four years, our first home since leaving the military is now surrounded by Californians who can’t even make eye contact let alone wave hello. The newcomers installed power poles right in front of our house with an amazing view without a second thought or hint of remorse. Their jacked-up SUVs and trucks speed up and down our road. Where once we could hike from our home into the forest, ugly fences and orange no-trespassing signs bar our way. Overpopulation strangles our home. Rudeness strangles me; I cannot breathe.

Covid-19 shutdown taught many of us we need not work in an office. I took that lesson to heart, embracing technology to step away from this lifestyle, my 30-minute commute, the paper reams, time-wasting, archaic fashion of running a business that my business partner will not abandon. My partner needs to adapt or retire. I won’t be there to change out his printer ink cartridge anymore; he will retire. Baby-boomers are a selfish generation but a topic for another day.

We have only have one life to live, and my husband and I choose to break away from this overpopulated, rude neighborhood our country street has become. So we put our house on the market and had it under contract within 36 hours at more than our asking price (that is how crazy the market is here). We close in 9 days and still don’t know where we are going.

We have areas we love out-of-state, homes we have looked at in May and July. Most of those houses sold already (that is how crazy the market is in quieter communities). But I am optimistic we will find the right place. We will go where it snows…a lot. Most Californians can’t handle real winters. It will be green year round, wildfires minimal, and traffic a distant murmur. From my home office window I view the trees. From the porch I inhale the clean air. Motivated, I write consistently, world-building with vigor to see the end of that great story. I jog and hear only my footfalls on the road and the birds chirping in the distance. We hike from the house into the forest without being ambushed by no-trespassing signs. My son attends school in person with classmates and play sports because the state has not mandated safeguarding the old at the detriment to our youth (another selfish move by the baby-boomer generation).

There is adventure and peace in that place, wherever it may be, and hopefully community and friendship. And to that community, I promise we will not hang ugly power lines, fencing, and no-trespassing signs. We want to be part of your community, not change it. We will wave to you and with smiles, invite you into our home. I want to be your friend and neighbor. We come as you are.

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