Today’s post comes from Barbara in Rivertown

When we moved here to Winona in June, I knew one of the things I would miss most from our Robbinsdale home was the back yard, a huge “park” and garden that was lush and green and private – from trees and shrubbery as much as from the existing fencing. Imagine the adjustment to our cute little yard, most of it encased in this lovely white plastic fence!

I understand – the former owner had a young child, and what better way to keep track of him? Husband doesn’t seem to mind the fence – he’s happy trading the lawn for veggie garden no matter what. But I feel a bit like a caged animal whenever I spend time out in the yard – the fence is visually solid, not even a crack to see what might be on the other side.

Add to this the fact that upon talking to our neighbor with whom we share this fence, it turns out the fence was both poorly erected and may have been built onto his property. (Luckily this neighbor is an old friend.) At any rate, its proximity to his driveway makes snow blowing almost impossible in winter. So there is plan afoot to move said fence this fall to where it should have been built, and add the missing 4×4 posts.

But – AHA! – Husband has had another idea – what if we just eliminated that fence? Granted, he needs some fencing around the garden for the bunnies, which (thanks to tim) we have in the garage, waiting for just such a purpose. But after that, do we really need a fence?

I asked Robert Frost, who wrote “Mending Wall”:

… Before I built a wall I’d ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, That wants it down.’…

I think it’s worth talking to Neighbor about. It may be that some fencing is in order – maybe they’re used to the privacy, too. But it might be a low fence, or just at the back of the drive where more privacy is desired. For my money, I’d like to see more open space.

Is your yard fenced? How do you feel about fences?

Today’s post comes from Barbara in Rivertown 

I’ve noticed since moving that there are lots of new sounds here at the new Winona homestead. While there isn’t as much traffic noise (sirens, planes, and freeway) as there was in the city, there are number of things that get my attention:

1. 8 a.m. bells from St. John’s Catholic Church just a couple of blocks away, not to mention noon and 6 p.m. bells as well! If we’re not already up by the 8:00 bonging, by golly we are up when they finish.
2. The truck of a neighbor across the alley who leaves at 6 a.m. – have only met this person to wave at. There is also a motorcycle that comes through the alley (we are RIGHT ON the alley) often enough. No more distance between us and the garbage trucks, either.
3. A mournful dog who is vocal when his people are late getting home from work. He belongs to  our next door neighbor to the north, who is, happily enough, someone we know from folk dancing here in the early 80s! Was amazing the first time we looked out the window and said “Isn’t that Gerard??”
4. Gerard’s cat, who was formerly invited in to what is now our house, and lets us know she ought to be allowed in ANY time she wants.
5. A plethora of as yet unidentified songbirds (plus the usual robins, cardinals, woodpeckers).
6. Train whistles (luckily, during waking hours) – the trains aren’t as close as they were in Robbinsdale (back yard), but they’re more frequent.
7. There are even a few sounds that I had a hard time figuring out – the “clucking” I thought I heard periodically (thinking someone on the block had chickens) turned out to be our refrigerator when it goes back on. Then a low hum in the middle of the night, just once, had a very mysterious quality to it – I even got up and walked outside to see if I could identify it, but never did. Something on the river?

There are actually some sounds from Robbinsdale that I miss, particularly the chipmunks and some of the birds.

Where have you lived that was a location rich in sounds?

Today’s post comes from Barbara in River Town.

I woke up feeling out of sorts, basically missing The Familiar.

We’ve been here in our new home (Winona, MN) for a total of three weeks, and I still haven’t found places to plug in all the lamps (I dislike overhead lights) or put the contents of all the boxes. I sometimes stand in the kitchen and rotate 360˚ while I try to remember where an item is located.

To top it off, this morning the freezer door was standing open when I got up. I’d forgotten that we have to check on the refrig doors, since they don’t “close by themselves” as they did in the old place.

We are still getting used to the idiosyncrasies of this new house.  I am, in a word, unmoored.

Except for visiting my mom, I am currently without direction (now that most of the unpacking is done). In my old life, I had several commitments a week that had me busy and involved – with people I like and projects I felt were worthy of my time. I remember this period from the last time we changed city, so I know it gives way to something better, and I will find my people and projects here. But I’m in that awkward stage of BEFORE, and need to give it some time.

Don’t get me wrong – the house is delightful in many ways, and this town has ‘way more going for it than I even remember. I just need to start connecting.

When was the last time you felt “unmoored”?

Today’s post comes from Barbara in River Town

On a pleasant Wednesday evening in late June, with a “little” help from some nephews, Husband and I filled the front half of a 15-foot U-Haul truck with the remainder of our stuff at the old house in Robbinsdale, and slept one last time on the screen porch of that house (since most of the rest of the house was empty). On Thursday morning, we drove over to my mom’s senior residence and spent the morning loading the remaining U-Haul space with HER stuff. Then we all headed off – Husband in the truck, Mom and me in a full sedan – on an adventure to the Southeast, and we landed in Winona, Minnesota.

My mom, whose name is Hope, is 90 years old. She has put up with my moving her four different times since Dad died in 2006, and is nothing if not intrepid. This is the second time she’s come to a new residence “sight unseen” (either she really trusts me, or she just has no choice). At this point she doesn’t remember all of the places unless she is prompted with a photo. She is, in a word, amazing – and always ready for something new, some fresh adventure.

We were stymied on Highway 100 by construction for a frustrating while, then finally eased out of the city. Once we got past the stoplights along Hwy 55/52, and found the roller coaster hills of Hwy 50 between Hampton and Red Wing, we were sailing. She was enthralled by ALL the scenery – even planes overhead and the refinery at Rosemount. She especially loved seeing the patchwork fields; she noticed every pretty church steeple, the pink and yellow vetches along the sloping ditches, the farm houses, the Round Barn just south of Red Wing.

But once we had reached the Mississippi River, it was the bluffs that captivated her. They are totally blanketed right now with trees of the richest greens – it looks like you could reach out and squeeze them like a sponge. They reminded Mom of her native Sioux City, IA, also long a great river – the Missouri. She couldn’t take her eyes off them, and kept commenting on their beauty.

So imagine Hope’s delight when, a few hours after setting out, we got to her new apartment at St. Anne of Winona, and the view from her windows is… the bluffs of Winona.

What’s the best view you’ve had from a window in a place you’ve lived?

Today’s post comes from Barbara in Robbinsdale

We are nine days out from our move to Winona, and they are coming fast and furious now – the Lasts. I have been to my last Board and Committee Meetings; Husband has been to his last Story Theater rehearsal. We have been to last practices for two choruses. Yesterday eve we hosted our last Annual Circle Dance Potluck in the back yard. Sniff.

It is a bittersweet time. It feels good to be relieved of some of these responsibilities, but saying good-bye to so many wonderful characters, who have been a regular part of our lives, is… hard. Been in this city for 31 years, and in this house for 27. We’ll be only 2½ hours away, and can come back to visit. But a visit is not involvement in the same way. We leave behind a rich set of experiences and people.

We’re into serious packing now, it’s really starting to look weird around here… that tripping over boxes stage. Still to come are things like packing up the Last Box, or removing the Last Piece of Furniture. Then in a couple of weeks we’ll come back to clean the Last Closet, wash the Last Window, and remove the Last Bits of Stuff.

What is a Last Time event or occurrence that you would welcome?

Today’s post comes from Barbara in Robbinsdale

Well, I Changed My Mind

Husband and I got a call on Monday from the Winona realtor who has been working with the seller of “our” house (See East Side, West Side).

Let’s call this House A. He said, and I quote, “I don’t want to complicate your lives, BUT…”  Turns out another east end house we had looked it has jumped back on the market – the newly divorced woman who had bought it has figured out (just before moving in) that she’s not ready to be a homeowner. Let’s call this House B.

When we viewed House B a couple of months ago, we were instantly ready to make an offer, until we found an offer had already been made, and it was no longer available. It was exactly what I was looking for in a house – smaller, so we’d have to downsize; lots of light; hardwood floors; gas stove) – and has several features not found in the House A, the house we thought we were buying. (House B is still on the east end of Winona, close to our friend Walken and a community of people we know, just not quite as close as before. It is only a few blocks from The River.)

MEANWHILE, the Seller of House A has, in the last 10 days, discovered she would like to back out of the sale, for a number of reasons we don’t need to go into here. I have to wonder how many times this situations occurs – a seller reneges on offer to sell, and the buyer gets to have a house they wanted, after all, which just happens to be available again. (Remind me not to go into real estate.)

So in short:

• We will travel to Winona early next week for an inspection of House B, after which we will probably make an offer, when we are legally released from our offer on House A.
• We will have to re-do several change of address notifications we have already sent.
• We need to tour our current house again (House C?) and see what else we can discard, as House B is considerably smaller than House A.
• We are still planning a move to Winona on June 8, with several of our late son Joel’s friends helping us load the U-Haul the evening before…  We just don’t yet know WHICH HOUSE we’re moving into.

What has been your most dramatic Change of Mind?

Today’s post comes from Barbara in Robbinsdale.

Without realizing it, I have come up with a little system for packing up the goods. (For the novice reader of this blog, Husband and I are moving to Winona, MN in June.)  Part 1:  I have been through each area of the house once, armed with an empty box or bag with which to remove the obviously unwanted items. This first round wasn’t so bad – when you’ve lived in a place for 27 years, you’ve forgotten half of what’s in the back of closets, under the basement stairs, in that bottom drawer. “Oh, I kept these skirts?” or “I don’t even remember ever having this calendar from 1984!”

Basement is ground zero – the holding tank, as it were. There is a “sawhorse table” where the stuff from above is dropped off until it can be boxed and carted away. There have already been several trips to Valu Village and Half Price Books; for each meeting or gathering I go to, I bring along a bag of something for people to paw through (just ask the Babooners who attended Book Club at Occasional Caroline’s in April).

But now I’m starting Part 2 of this system, sorting through a second time as I actually pack it in a box. This takes more time and thought. Hmmm, do I still really need three mixing bowls that size, and does the one from my grandma win out over my favorite color? Will I ever really play all this piano music again in this lifetime?

Luckily, I have help:  I’m almost finished reading a best-selling book by Marie Kondo – The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.

There are many good ideas here, as well as some quirkiness, as she almost gives her possessions human feelings. But the most profoundly useful tactic is her insistence to work by category, rather than room by room. Say my category is “candles”: I travel thought the house and gather ALL the candles into one place, one pile; and then pick up each item to evaluate, based on whether or not it brings me joy.

This is what I want, to have all my possessions be things I use and/or love. So now there is a box of candles leaving, and a box of candles coming with us. And I feel almost euphoric after discarding – there is something about lightening up that… well, actually lightens me.

When have you needed to create a system on order to complete a task? 

Did it work?