What plan?

I forgot to post this--it was written two weeks or so ago.

I don't know what our 5 year plan is. Will we still be here in this one bedroom apartment? Drying our laundry in the basement with quarters? Waiting for endless screeching subways and checking the weather because by God if they say it is going to rain you better have an umbrella. A NY rainstorm is nothing like a Portland drizzle. There is no hose for washing dog crap off your shoes and you can't shake your rugs outside. There is no outside. I saw someone smoking crack in the park for the first time, and I am starting to recognize the local homeless guys that always hang out in the same corners of the park. And the ladies in hats who sit on the benches handing out copies of The Watchtower. Yesterday we saved a chicken wish bone. It was on the counter in a little dish. Today it was mysteriously gone. The kids and dog couldn't have reached it. It wasn't in a place that could have easily been knocked off. Where the hell is it? Surely if there were rats exploring at night our trusty dog would wake up and snap to attention? Tell me one of us forgot it was to be saved and threw it away? There aren't rats in the suburbs, are there?
On the flip side--I am afraid if I move away from here I might be bored. Or at least under- stimulated. Or missing out on something. The possibility of a thousand restaurants and museums so grand they take many visits to really see and people who are from everywhere--it is so rich and intoxicating. I love the style and the action and the pace, and there is so much to learn. I don't think my kids would ever have had a friend with dreadlocks in Portland, would they? There is history and art and culture around every corner. And there is something liberating about living with less stuff and cleaning out the belongings. Not by choice but because you have to--it doesn't all fit here. And somehow, especially when you think of the whole world, this much space per family seems more fair.
I am tempted by those of you with chickens. Or a trampoline in the backyard. A barbecue. By the bookshelves filled with books, the cars in the garage that easily handle 10 bags of groceries at a time. Have I told you what it is like to grocery shop here? In Trader Joe's you get in line the minute you get a cart and shop while the line winds its way around the store. When you have to carry laundry soap and dog food up and down subway steps, grocery shopping becomes an exercise in balance and strength. Those plastic bags cut into wrists and fingers way deeper than you ever thought possible, and before the end you find yourself cursing anything liquid, heavy, unnecessary. Damn Jonah for spotting the watermelon. Why did I buy laundry soap and canned goods in the same visit? This week we took a taxi home for the first time. It was a lot easier than playing Super Sherpa.
Then again, being able to walk to a store, countless restaurants, the park, the library, the bookstore, a University, a swimming pool in summer and ice rink in winter. It is absolutely incredible. Home becomes more than this little apartment and the concept of living in a place where you need a car sounds strangely claustrophobic.
I guess a lot of this really depends on Brett and his work. And he is rocking the block right now. He has never had a job that put all the pieces of his experience in one package like this one does--the military, the attention to detail, bridge and inspection background, the writing ability, the the presentation skills, the diving. Work is really going well, he is a big stud there and I am so proud of him and I see how as long as he is in engineering, this job is a great fit.

Maybe it is kind of like deciding what to make for dinner. I like everything! But you can't eat everything at one meal...so you have to choose. And sometimes deciding what to make for dinner is really hard for me. But ultimately, I always choose something (even *not* choosing is choosing, actually, because somehow we always end up eating eventually) and if the produce doesn't look good or if the kids collapse on the floor in disgust at the mere thought I can change this choice. For now, we wholeheartedly choose the city. I guess we will just check in periodically to see if we are still hungry for the same thing.