My first set of wheels

Last Thursday I met a young couple from Kansas.  I don't remember where he is originally from, since he moved around a lot as a child.  His lovely wife is from Idaho. He is in the army and they now live in a small military community.
We got to talking about our new life here in Sonoma, and he was baffled to learn that we don't have a car.  As the conversation went on, he was even more shocked that I have never owned a car.  When I divulged the fact that I have never actually had a driver's license, he almost fell back in awe.
His world would be impossible to live in without a car to get around in. 
The truth of the matter is, lots of people react the same way.  People who have known me forever don't get it. 
It wasn't something I planned for.
 When I was a teenager -overachiever at heart- I decided I couldn't drive unless I knew how to fix my car in the event of a breakage. Then I got over that, but I was in a time in my life in which the French Education I was pursuing forced me to study for several hours a day, after several hour long tests after several hours at school. Learning how to drive was not a priority.
 Once I graduated I got a permit and  started to learn manual, since the overachiever was still in there and I didn't want to learn just automatic. 
For anyone who has not been to my country, I shall let you know that driving there is not as simple as it is here.  Learning was a bit harder than I anticipated since you have to watch out for cars and motorcycles coming at you from all directions, legal or not,  physically possible or not.  Before I knew it, I left for the States and I still hadn't secured the license.
At school I relied on my friends and their driving.  At one point I tried to get a permit, and at the DMV in Poughkeepsie, NY, they wanted me to provide them with a ridiculous amount of identification, which of course had to be all legally translated into English, which is a costly and annoying process that did not seem worth it to the 18 year old version of myself.
From there I moved to San Francisco, where, lets face it, you don't need a car at all.
I had always loved to walk, and after living in that beautiful city for a while, it became a part of me more than ever. I returned for a year to the Island, and cultivated my hobby of walking, surprising friends and family alike, since it is not customary for anyone to get around walking in that city.
 Then I returned to San Francisco, and from there somehow ended up moving to Boston, where, again, you don't need a car.
Now we live in Sonoma, where you obviously can't live without a car, right?  Wrong. 
As we first arrived back in California, I was sharing with my friend Eric my plans of purchasing a bike as soon as we got settled.  He had bought his girlfriend, my dear friend Courtney, a bike about four years ago for her birthday, which she had somehow never used.  He offered it to me, she approved, and I inherited a brand new, if a bit weathered, Giant mountain bike.  It even came with a wicker basket!
It's not the bike I had pictured I would get for myself, but it actually turns out to be so much better this way, since I can go on rough roads and mountain paths in it.
I have been using it as my main mode of transportation.  I get our groceries in it, I run errands in it, I made friends with the owner of the local bike shops  and the the guys who work there because of it, and I have explored the area around our new home extensively in it.  That's before getting to how good of an aerobic exercise it is to ride my bike around town.  And how much fun and therapeutic it is as well.
As we debated on what car to get,how much we want to spend on it, what our needs are as far as a vehicle is concerned, I realized a few things.
The first one was that even though we don't have children, we actually need a back seat for all of our little friends that we have around here.
The second, that right now, we don't really need a car per se. Right now, a car would be a great convenience, but it would be more of a luxury than a necessity.
The great Mexican band Molotov, states in one of their songs that since we were not born where there is nothing to eat, we don't have to ask ourselves what we are going to do (" porque no nacimos donde no hay que comer, no hay porque preguntarnos como le vamos a hacer").
My bicycle and lack of car made me realize, that sometimes, when we are fortunate enough to have lived a life full of necessities and luxuries, at whatever level those may be, we tend to forget the difference between need and want.  For those less fortunate than us, who have lived with a lack thereof, the line is much clearer.
A car would get us to the city to see our beloved San Francisco, and our dear friends.  A car, would get us to Petaluma, and Point Reyes, to go to the beach, to explore northern California. A car would get us to Auburn, to spend time with my bike-giving friends. A car, would make it much easier and faster to get downtown to get food. It would get me to the chicken man, to buy the chickens I yearn for to have fresh eggs everyday. It would also get us an ironing board, which would make it a lot easier to  iron my husband's work shirts on (I can imagine my sister in law and my friend Natalie cringing in disbelief that we still don't have one). 

Sure, it will be great to have. But as long as I can bike to town, and he can walk to work, we don't really need it, and I am proud to know that we accept that, and are doing just fine without it.
My grandfather once questioned me about the reason why I had never gotten my license. We where in Seattle, on our way to Alaska. As I told him the story I have written here, I realized, that for someone who has never driven, I have gotten pretty damn far....

A lesson in Patience, and it's little sister Impatience.

We are finally settled in our new home. We really did live in Boston, and we really did leave Boston. I am currently not working, and although as my husband says, I am a darn good "housewife" I have started to get impatient about finding employment.

I didn't even realize it. All of a sudden, this terrible feeling had completely taken me over. It was on my skin, in my blood, in my every thought and action. I was going a million miles an hour and had absolutely no time to waste. I also had no idea.
That's the thing about impatience, sometimes it just creeps up on you, without you noticing it. It starts very slowly, ironically enough with lots of patience, so as to acclimate itself to your being and you to it. Then one day, it's there, a part of you. And it has completely changed you. That is unless you take the time to scan yourself regularly for behavior changes, in which case you will eventually spot it. Everywhere.
I spotted it this morning, as I was getting ready to go out for breakfast with our friend Ray. He had come to visit from the city, as we have still not made it down there. I was trying to pick out the right outfit, then put on makeup, matching jewelry, and then I went downstairs and realized it was so much colder than I thought it was. So, I should go change since I was wearing a summer dress. No, I shouldn't! It will be fine...I have a jacket. I don't have time to change! He will be here any minute!
 Well, it took him longer to get here than my impatient self had thought it would. So I waited, still in my summer dress, still cold.  Then he got here, we went out for breakfast, and I remained cold. Stubborn, impatient, and cold!
We had a lovely visit, and he was kind enough to drive us around to do some errands since we still don't have a car. One of those errands consisted of getting a few herbs to perk up our yard.
This is my first attempt to keep a garden. When I got home with my compost, my potting soil, my herbs and some larger pots for existing plants, in my same impatient manner, I immediately got to work.
I turned the soil, I shoveled, I raked, I sweat. I planted the little purple flowers that we choose as ground cover. I scavenged around the yard for more rocks and made a little fence for our newly planted area. I read somewhere that peppermint likes part shade so I planted a few of them as well in that space.
 I replanted the hot pepper. I filled an old half wine barrel with soil and planted thyme, basil, sage, lemon verbena and oregano in it.  Time went by and I was completely unaware. I was being as present as I could. Gardening away.  Thinking of how I had never done this before. Of how great it was. Of how amazing it was that I had found all those stones right there in our yard. And then it hit me. I had to be patient now.  This was as much as I could do. How slow or how fast the little purple flowers were going to take to cover that area was entirely up to them.  And there is nothing I can do about it but enjoy every step of their journey.
In the same way, how long it will take for me to find a job is out of my control.  I look everyday to see what's out there.  I apply to everything that I feel I can do. And I have no choice but to wait.
My lesson in patience comes with the realization of what I can and should do with my time while I wait.
So I cook everyday and enjoy the bounty of delicious fruits and vegetables that are available right now all over California.  I do Yoga for longer than I'm used to, and mostly in the yard. And I have decided I will also write. Maybe once I am so comfortable in my routine that I have forgotten that I was looking for a job, a fulfilling job will find me.