We arrived at our new house on a Saturday evening, sweaty and disoriented from the drive. Our new neighbors were having a front porch happy hour because of the unusually nice weather for April.1 We introduced ourselves and everyone was so kind, one even offering the use of an air mattress which she promised her son in law would bring the next day.
We wandered around our empty new townhouse and I finally understood why people on House Hunters complain about stairs. So many stairs. We dumped the cats in an empty bedroom with their stuff and immediately checked into a hotel for the night. It was the best night of sleep either of us had for a while. Blissfully cat-free. Suck it, cats.
The next day was Sunday and we had an empty house, two angry cats, a borrowed air mattress and some kitchen stuff we’d brought with us. That was pretty much it. We both had to work the next day which gave us no real adjustment time.
There was a small desk and chair left behind in the loft so I set up there for work. My workplace had allowed me to work fully remote on a temporary basis (though HR was really not happy about it.) I’m incredibly grateful for this because it made my first year in Oregon so much easier. Not only did I have a job, but I was working East Coast hours2 which meant that I was off work at 2pm.
That first week, sans furniture and stuff, was super weird. I worked in my little loft office during the day and ate lunch like it was an inside picnic. When Fred got home we’d pick a place to eat dinner - mostly making the wrong choice. We also took walks on the power line trail that ran through our neighborhood and is still our favorite local feature.
I spent that first week riding my bike through neighborhoods and along the paved trails, trying to make sense of it all and get my bearings. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t tell you which way was north. It still trips me up that the coast is to the west, not the east! So disorienting.
My car was delivered mid-week and I remember being paralyzed by the fact that I had no idea how to get to anything. Like, where is the nearest gas station? I am incredibly thankful for cellphone mapping but it’s less helpful when you have three stops but don’t know the best order - does it make more sense to go to Target, then the post office and then the grocery store? Am I doing it wrong? It took me a full year to understand the best way to organize my errands and it was intensely frustrating on a daily basis to never be able to be on auto-pilot while driving. I got lost a lot that year.
The next Saturday the furniture truck arrived and despite our advance warnings that the street was extremely narrow and would require a smaller truck, they still showed up in a giant moving van and then were like “Uh, we can’t get this down your street.” No shit, guys. They left to get a smaller truck to move our stuff in and said they’d return on Sunday, which really sucked but why would anything go right at this point?
They did come back the next day and suddenly we were dealing with this:
Oh, wait, no. This is not what I want either. I take it back! Over the next week we unpacked every single box, dealt with the reams of packing paper and removed little red stickers from every single piece of furniture.3 Gradually, things took shape and we had a fully functioning household.
Once we were settled, that first summer was honestly pretty freaking great. Every day is a Summer Friday if you get off at 2pm! I spent my afternoons riding my bike and shopping in the best thrift store. For those first few months I had no friends, no real responsibilities, and a lot of free time. On the weekends Fred and I would drive into Portland and explore a cool neighborhood or leave town and visit some other part of Oregon - Astoria, Tillamook, Bend. In some ways it felt like an endless vacation. We’re just visitors here! Who also happen to live here? It’s crazy, y’all.
And now it’s been three years and we’re fully settled in. I’ve made some friends, I got a new job, and I’ve started getting defensive when people talk shit about Portland.
Oregon couldn’t be more different from Virginia but it turns out I love them both. I blew up my life and it wasn’t a mistake. (More about that in my next essay.)
The weather in 2021 was unusually warm and dry. I spent the whole year thinking it was normal. It was not normal.
Yes, this does mean rolling out of bed at 5am but it was worth it.
If you’ve ever done a professional move you know about these fucking stickers. We’re still finding them.
MOVING! We moved just 2 hours north and brought our entire feral cat colony and our personal cats with us and that was a fun ride. We hired an airport van, courtesy of the mom of a school friend of my son's who co-owned a transport business with her husband. We got a discount, but as you might imagine it was EXPENSIVE. I had two broken wrists. I will write this all up for my substack at some point but 7 years later, it's still a painful memory. I'm glad yours ended happily (though I know more is coming ...)
For my first real move, I carefully packed a small box with coffee, the coffee maker, creamer, mugs, spoons, etc., so we wouldn't have to figure out everything the first morning. Sadly, I forgot the can opener for the coffee!! After about 20 minutes of fruitless searching, I gave up and went to Starbucks.