I Want To Go Home

I'm so tired of Carlsbad, New Mexico. I haven't had any friends here in years. This mining town is in some mighty pretty country, but the whole point of the economy here is to ruin it.

I miss California. California is, of course, rather a mess of late. But it would feel like familiar ground, home turf.

Not back to Los Angeles, never that. Nowhere south of the City.

But I am thinking, more than wistfully, of organizing myself around getting out of here. Twenty years in Eddy County. Twenty years in Eastern New Mexico, in Little Texas. What was I thinking?

I got old while I was here. Work is harder, prospects more dim. But I have to ask myself, do I really want to let this drag on further, the tunnel narrowing more and more?

Maybe I won't get out. Maybe I'll die here. Maybe I'll die here tomorrow. Life is increasingly suspect as one ages.

But I don't have a plan. Shouldn't one have a plan?

I am feeling more and more, of late, that my plan should be about going home, wherever home is. And home is surely not here. There is much beauty hidden in the interstices of a desert mining town. I would miss that, as I miss all the beauty of all the places I have left.

And some of them felt like home, but this place, though it could have, though it had the potential - never has felt like home. It was always about other people, this little mining town. And they are all far away, even when I see them in town.

It seems kind of pointless to keep this up, this pretense of living here, when my heart is with others, elsewhere, in other places.

I would hate the abandonments required, though. Who would care for my trees? Would they just cut them down? Would they notice the little blue salvias, or just mow them into oblivion?

The land along the easement, where I have been cultivating wildflowers for fifteen years. What has that place to expect? Mowing to within an inch of her life? Herbicides? Asphalt?

I never watered her, just cut a bit when they made me. She has gradually been changing, becoming more diverse. It takes years. It takes decades. I was thinking about trying to seed in alyssum and gaillardia this year. Feeling a little hopeful. Watching the Mexican hats spread from a single volunteer, into a spread of glorious yellow and burnt orange glory in the summer, as I helped them along over some years.

This is my life, these small things. Watching the pecan tree's girth grow from twelve to eighteen inches. Seeing plants I don't know the names of, coming back year after year, this continuity.

In these small ways, it's exactly what I was looking for, except without the humans. I tried for a long time. But I never could find any here who stuck.

So I'm thinking about California again, which I know well, mad as it has become. I would know what to do with California, though never back to Los Angeles! Nowhere near enough weeds.

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I think many of us share your feelings. I have planted many roses, mostly old ones, at my house through the years. But the one-two punch of rose rosette disease and code enforcement forcing me to cut down climbers and shrubs to waist high has changed how I feel. The emotional attachment to the land and gardens has gone.
I talked to my coworkers just yesterday about moving. They asked if I would move the roses too. No.
I just want to farm.
Your thoughts are so very true. It takes decades for diversity to blossom and thrive.

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Miep's picture

I remember you from DK.

I'm a little especially worked up right now because my mother's partner is dying. He's been dealing with cancer for about five years, and has done remarkably well with it. But just this last week he is crashing fast. It's very sudden, but from what my mother tells me, from the hospice people; this is not uncommon with cancer: the body just decides to shut down.

Okay, I'm really upset.

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Stay on track. Stay in lane. Don't throw rocks.

Sending love and peace of mind and heart your way. May your memories comfort you as you mourn.
For many years I had a sign in my garden - 'The kiss of the sun for pardon, the song of the birds for mirth, one is closer to God in the garden than anywhere else on Earth.'
Blessings to you and yours...

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Miep's picture

You are very kind.

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riverlover's picture

it's your Mother's current life affected. You are picking up a cry for strength. I am a mother who lost a husband, father of two. As a mother, I also had to put on a face of strength, my children were experiencing parent death for the first time, not the last. That actually buoyed me through, other parents might not respond that way.

So I may guess your sadness, and shock. If you can, be kind to all. And I will be thinking of you, and your mother.

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Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.

was dying in 2010, the doctor said that one of the first senses to shut down is the sense of taste. Dad-in-law was a huge chocoholic; when some friends from church came to bring him Eucharist (Communion in the Episcopal Church) one of them also brought him a slice of his favorite "Death by Chocolate" cake from a local bakery. He was fed one bite and made a face as if it tasted horrible -- that was probably a sign that he was nearing the end. He died two days later during a morning nap.

Best wishes to you, your mother and her partner.

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Granma's picture

I'm so sorry you and your mother are losing this loved man suddenly. Will you accept a cyber hug? ((((((((((((((Miep)))))))))))))

And may your heart show you the right home for the rest of your days, a place you will find joy, peace, and companionship.

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Haikukitty's picture

I usually have a special tree or two who I really worry over, and I also usually have to leave behind the buried bones of one or two members of the cat herd who are always passing on. I always feel strange leaving those things for others to take over, not that a buried cat requires much tending, but it always feel strange to leave them behind along with my special plants and trees.

I think I was engineered to grow up and live my life in one place, like people used to do when land was passed down in the family.

I totally get how you feel about this. So hard to leave the defenseless green things to the mercy of any human who comes after you.

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hecate's picture

in a place for fifteen years, where I had rose bushes near big as trees, and had created micro-climates where I could grow things, in a hotter region of California, unseen outside wet English gardens. I had to move because the landlady "needed" to come into the place to become a greedhead marijuana farmer. She was ripping my living world out before I was even gone. You're not happy, where you are. And, you should be happy. So, when you move, to assuage the grief, for the living things, you left behind, just pretend, that you were evicted. Like I was. Then, when you get to California, you can start to grow again. That's what I'm doing, here, now.

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Miep's picture

That means a lot to me.

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Stay on track. Stay in lane. Don't throw rocks.

Family, job changes...just feeling like you can't stand it any more. You don't need a landlord to be evicted.

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“If there is no justice for the people, may there be no peace for the government.”

riverlover's picture

I can spend minutes at a time staring at it. And guessing. It is very fine, nice iron-work?

I know the Sense of Place. I know when some Places become tired, or boring and the colors wash away. I don't know what to do about that, either. Sunday morning I sat on ground I pay for the privilege of owning. There, in fall's leaves, are periwinkles blooming, vinca spreading by stolon, and I could hear them growing, little pops as green leaves moved up from the ground. Spring awakening. That was good.

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Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.

Miep's picture

Here are my purchase notes:

1800's original antique green marble hand carved Mughal bird hook hanger. From India.

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Oldest Son Of A Sailor's picture

As well, but never asked...

It looks pretty cool maybe one day you can share a better portrait of it...

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"Do you realize the responsibility I carry?
I'm the only person standing between Richard Nixon and the White House."

~John F. Kennedy~
Economic: -9.13, Social: -7.28,
Gerrit's picture

you can call home. Your essay resonates with me because I have the same feelings and thoughts about home and where it may be. And yes, the abandonments; those hurt.

Enjoy your day,

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Resilience: practical action to improve things we can control.
3D+: developing language for postmodern spirituality.

Rather it's just my experience that gives me some understanding maybe of your situation. More than 45 years ago I went on my vision quest in a self converted vw van/ camper. I was really impressed with the colors of the southwest and the quality of the sunlight. As a new englander I'd never seen anything like it and still dream of seeing it again, though it's unlikely. After being a true nomad for over two months I finally realized what I really hungered for was a place to put down roots. I wound up in rural Maine as land was cheap and there was then zero regulation. It seemed every property for sale had some flaw and there just didn't seem to be the perfect place in my price range. I finally came to thinking it really didn't matter as any piece of land can be made into something better/different or our own row to hoe so to speak.

So 45 years later, living alone, recently divorced, and now my son trying to figure out how to get dad out of the Maine woods. I know every tree on nearly 50 acres. I've pushed the woods back from my my now sprawling house I built myself and can feel the tide turning and the woods creeping in. When I visit my son in queens I sometimes go to Times Square to absorb the heterogenous mass of humanity. My brain says sell the place but my emotions say stay put. So Miep once again you struck a chord with me and I'm doing everything I can to put off doing my taxes (we get an extra day due to the patriots day holiday)

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“The longer we dwell on our misfortunes, the greater is their power to harm us”
― Voltaire

Miep's picture

It's just beauty.

Thank you.

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Alison Wunderland's picture

You struck a chord this morning, a chord that been resonating in the back of my mind for the last few years. Not going home so much as home not being home anymore. Though this is as long as I've lived in one spot, twenty-four years, it's lost its uniqueness. The 'hood was then out past the outskirts of civilization. We liked it that way. Relatively few people. The weedy lots. The seedy solitude. Then, a few years ago the developers descended on the neighborhood like a gold rush. Lot after lot was filled in with yet another house, and then another, and then another. And with the houses came the cars, usually several. It may sound petty to be upset about parking, but in the city just stopping the beast anywhere is a challenge since it costs money to to stop, to park. I gave up my own car over a year ago. Fuck it. No more. But the 'hood is infested with new people and parking the remaining beast close to home is always challenging, and frustrating. Plus, being cold is becoming routine. Winter starts in October, ends in May. I'd like to be warm. Florida sings her Siren song.

For what it's worth, Miep, we're here with you. Maybe we can support each other and get ourselves to where we belong. Home is where you feel comfortable. [[[[[Miep]]]]]

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Miep's picture

I lived in the woods.

The woods are still there. I checked google maps.

I could feel at home here with the right people, but it's not going to happen.

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riverlover's picture

I did not realize it then and then Time. My spot is big enough, with mostly like-minded people, that I now feel like digging in. For lack of an alternative?

Here I still have passive/active dreams. They make me want to stay. My woods. Help nudge toward a changing climate. And to try to protect it, against takers, be they of trees, or wild life, I desire control. My aspiration. Walk my woods, see life.

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Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.

Haikukitty's picture

When I moved into the house we're in, it was a little oasis of rural remnants in an otherwise endless suburbia. We lived on a small road that still had farms on it, and our little neighborhood still feels semi-rural once you get into it (or really old suburban, before the time of mass development of identical homes) . No sidewalks and the houses don't match.

But now all the farms are gone and replaced by horrible "luxury townhomes" and new cookie-cutter neighborhoods. The traffic is terrible and I feel trapped in my tiny oasis neighborhood now completely surrounded by new construction.

Its depressing.

I want to move out to the Western end of the state where there are still moderately open spaces, since leaving entirely seems impossible with all my clients being here.

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Bisbonian's picture

Arizona, another desert mining town. The mine closed in '74, but there is always the threat of it opening again. The scars, in the meantime, are immense, and yet we find the hidden beauty. And plant. And grow.

But home is in the hills, in San Diego County. I love it there...even now, with what the coastal areas have become. It's still relatively peaceful. I have deep ties to the place, beyond my love for it. My great-great-great grandfather settled there. His son-in-law, my great-great-grandfather settled there. They married into the locals...my grand mother was a Cupeño Indian. My mother, and we kids, grew up with her cousin, another Cupeño. Obviously, those ties go much farther back. Some of my friends, and most of my family is still there.

I can't go back. My partner wants to stay here. We have finally gotten a place with land, and water, where we can grow, trees and food. We have started setting it up to be sustainable, for us. I still want to go, desperately. Much as I love it, sometimes I hate the desert.

Go. Live where you want to live...I understand the ties. We only have so much time, and you ought to live where you want to. And if you don't have to worry about anyone else, then you can. Go Smile

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"I’m a human being, first and foremost, and as such I’m for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.” —Malcolm X

The desert is a nice place to visit but I really don't want to live there. Maybe I'll escape soon but there's no light at the end of the tunnel just yet. At least I've made up my mind to leave so now I only have to find the means.

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Pat K California's picture

Was born in Buffalo, NY, raised in Michigan, college and first decent job in Minnesota, other jobs in Iowa, Nebraska, Nashville, TN, Alaska. But Northern California (SF Bay area) has been "home" for the past 28 years now ... and I'm never leaving.

I've seen intolerance from one end of this country to the other, but here I see it to a remarkably lesser degree. I go to the grocery store and mingle with every color and language under the sun. My friends are forward thinking, optimistic. The Bay area, in particular, is a progressive bastion. I am "home" here. This whole place is "me". We are kindred spirits. Can't even imagine living anywhere else.

I sense that this is your "home" too, Miep. May you have the good fortune to wind up "home" someday soon.

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"Long term: first the rich get mean, then the poor get mean, and the rest is history." My brother Rob.

importer's picture

17 years, I couldn't believe I stayed that long! I hadn't spent that much time in one place since I left home after high school. I always had the wanderlust. Each new opportunity had me dropping everything to go and see a new place. While I was "away" most of my family died out, including my one brother. I had a couple cousins left in Seattle, but not much else to go back for. I entertained the idea of going to my 50th reunion, then realized I hadn't kept in touch with any of those people for 50 years, what was I going back to?

Then I got a call from a surrogate saying my siblings were looking for me. I took a little time to let that soak in, started corresponding with my mother's family, all back in Washington St. Went up to visit, came home to Albuquerque and made plans to move back. I was there for about 4 years, it felt good, everything "smelled" right, living in the wet. I found my father's family and flew to Newfoundland and met all of them. After having no family left, I went to having 11 1/2 brothers and sisters. It was exciting, overwhelming.

In the course of all this, I had left 3 sons at various places, they had all gravitated to Colorado by 2004 and I missed our holidays and family occasions. I was lured back with the promise of a grandchild. So, here I sit in Colorado, one son has moved on, two are here. The granddaughter is here. I fantasize about moving back to Seattle, Albuquerque, Anchorage, even to Newfoundland - not Buffalo and realize where ever I am, I'm still me. I take all my baggage where ever I go. I find that being with what is left of my family, now, is comforting, although exasperating at times.

Age and physical restrains have taken their toll. I scratch around in the hard clay here and dream of growing roses in Issaquah, along the creek, with big hanging baskets that didn't need to be watered. Now it is a comforting dream. I will stay put - for now. Facebook is my friend for keeping up with my new extended family, the internet is my ticket to exotic places.

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bodysurfer's picture

But I had wanderlust. I lived in Northern CA, Alaska, and recently Tucson, AZ. 30 years I wandered. After the kids grew out and divorce, I clicked my heels together and said. . .

My last summer Tucson, when I opened my front door in the midmorning, the first word out of my mouth was "fuck!" I was so done. It was imperative. I barely had a plan and suffered a little for it.

Stayed as a longterm guest with some friends, shorter couch surfs, house sitting gigs. . . nearly homeless at certain points, right in the middle of the "jobless recovery."

I stabilized my living and job situation eventually. SD was more crowded and douch-y than I remembered, too. Our Robinhood-backwards economy sent a lot of rich assholes here to America's Finest City.

But you know what? It is totally worth it. Still 4 years later when I take-in the scent of the air, the plants, the soil, a big grin shows up on my face. And the ocean!

OMFG the sea! I don't know how I lived away from Her for so long. She soothes me, thrills me, sometimes terrifies me, but makes me feel so alive. If I died in her arms, that would be okay (well, not really, but better than a car wreak or a lingering terminal illness.)

The years flit by. Think carefully about where you want to spend them. Any one of them, any day, could be the last.

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All I need are some tasty waves, a cool buzz, and I'm fine. -- Jeff Spicoli

Bisbonian's picture

a 10'2 Gordon & Smith, abandoned in a garage in Pacific Beach. My mother sold it in a garage sale when I went to college!!! "I didn't think you needed it any more". I need it more than ever, here in the desert.

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"I’m a human being, first and foremost, and as such I’m for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.” —Malcolm X

mimi's picture

that feels like a home to you, is not an easy thing to talk about for me. All I can say is that plans seldom come through the way you think. May be one has to accept that one can grow and build something everywhere, no matter where life drops you off. You grow into your home by building one yourself and plant. You get attached to the work you put into. Do not destroy what you build, just leave it behind and don't look back.

It's hard to not find people surrounding you, people to whom you can relate, who think like you. I lost my "home" with 19, and lost my country with 32, and lost people, I believed would still understand me during the rest of my life, during the last couple of years. I am old now and re-building a new home gets harder and harder.

You need a home and need to adapt the people in your surrounding community, no matter what. You can't live by yourself. If you can't do that, you are homeless in the whole meaning of the word. Homelessness destroys a person and can kill your spirit to survive for good.

Go and build you home, where you feel you might be more happy and hope to find people, who understand you and can become your friends. That's all I can say.

Good luck to you. Onward to California.

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is that when I do, the reasons I left are brought vividly back to my consciousness.
I left the Omaha Nebraska/Council Bluffs Iowa area because I could not abide the mindsets far too many in that area exhibited towards others. Especially towards the 'others' they insisted on 'othering'.
I can take a trip to Omaha but I won't be home until I cross back over the line into Minnesota.
There are those who demand sympathy for their lot in the place they call home.
I say, that sounds like they need to find a new home.

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With their hearts they turned to each others heart for refuge
In troubled years that came before the deluge
*Jackson Browne, 1974, Before the Deluge https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SX-HFcSIoU

Raggedy Ann's picture

I've always wanted to move away. New York. California. Anywhere but New Mexico. But, the universe has other plans for me. It always has. Every time I concoct a plan to move - a barrier reveals itself. So, here I am. Raggedy Andy and I have succumbed. We are now planning on ensuring our place will sustain us via plants, gardens, solar and wind, and shelter.

I'd like to know if/when you move. It will make my soul sing for you while it cries for me.

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"The “jumpers” reminded us that one day we will all face only one choice and that is how we will die, not how we will live." Chris Hedges on 9/11

Miep's picture

I'm sorry to hear that. Northern New Mexico sounds all right, and your plans sensible.

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Deja's picture

My only memories of the place are from childhood. Miserably cold, in "the" caverns. Terrified of the stalagmites that "might" fall, and of course the Bottomless Pit. Then the excruciating stomach ache, accompanied by a scalded tongue from the hot chocolate - Mom's failed attempt to warm me up. I've hated hot chocolate ever since, and to this day can shiver in an air conditioned house while everyone else is comfortably sitting under a ceiling fan.

I know nothing of the people. I'm sorry you have none of importance to you there. My only concern for you moving home is that you might uproot and leave the non human, living things you adore, and end up with people around you that get on your last nerve. You've likely become accustomed to solitude, and in Cali, you might end up with well-meaning folks who pop in, and disrupt the solitude you might have grown to love, even though you might not realize it. Kind of like, watch what you wish for, or, if you pray for rain, you have to be willing to deal with the mud.

I'm so not a risk taker, that I'd make some extended vists, before jumping. But that's just me.

I hope you find peace, regardless of what you decide, and where you ultimately decide to be.

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Miep's picture

Actually it's people here who want to just pop in. Funny how are experiences are so different.

I've been giving this all a lot of thought. Plan B always is a good idea. But I don't have to make any big decisions right away. It's more about working on what I want to do with my old age. I can't put off such decisions endlessly, and at 58 it's coming up fast. I am more tired and older and slower and it would be a good idea to have a goal.

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riverlover's picture

He died when he was only 63, I have reached that age now myself. One health crisis for me, a year of convalescence, and I feel less "old" now than I did then. 'A certain age' may be when death appears around, in increasing numbers, of people who died "too young". Hell, I still do not have legal cover for items like a Will. Keep pushing that one.

When my existence was being questioned by Medical Teams, I refused to believe it, it did not occur to me that I might die. I felt real bad, and hoped every minute that I would feel better, and then I did. I don't believe that my husband had hope towards his end, there was none showing through that I still felt. Not to say that I believe death can be summoned by lack of caring. My survival led to a Born Again phase (spiritual, not religious), I am over most of that, two years out this month (OMG).

At some point it's probably best to live in Real Time, and not commit to trudging towards death. Whatever that takes. Peace to you.

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Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.

Good out of what you find wherever you are. That's a rare and precious quality.

If your heart is elsewhere and your mind is restless, I say go for it if the right people will be part of your life. With the right people (remembering that you will meet new "right people" when it's your kind of place) you can overcome all manner of adversity.

Maybe I'm feeling that way because I come back to Pennsylvania after decades in Florida, where my family's been for 180 years. The natural environment there is great, especially if you like hot weather (I don't), but the built environment is about what you'd expect from a state where the vast majority of people are not invested in anything but their own imaginary new life. Good old Pa. has tons of extended family and feels so much more real and comfortable.

It was hard to accept that the connection I felt for so long no longer existed because what I was connected to no longer existed, except as a memory. So even though I have very deep connections to Florida, I had to face that the thing I was connected to doesn't exist any more, like the filthy, wonderful New York City that was mine for a few years before the plutocracy ruined it. Because these once beloved places had been changed by others so profoundly, that feeling of connection was rendered false. That realization helped me understand my feelings much better.

I remember you from a few years ago on another blog and I think you will make a good life where ever you are, but if there are people who will make your life richer somewhere else, maybe that's the place to be? You'll do the same for them and round and round.

Well, that was rambling, wasn't it? Sorry.

I hope you do what's in your heart. There's a lot in there, so it may be hard to sort out.

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“If there is no justice for the people, may there be no peace for the government.”

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“If there is no justice for the people, may there be no peace for the government.”

And start them in your new home? You would literally always have a little of what you had in New Mexico.

I'm done now, I swear!

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“If there is no justice for the people, may there be no peace for the government.”

Bisbonian's picture

You have my sympathies.

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"I’m a human being, first and foremost, and as such I’m for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.” —Malcolm X

I'm living not far from Philadelphia in a semi-rural area so beautiful it hurts sometimes.

My Dad lived in Clovis briefly and I can understand why it was brief. But most of New Mexico looked like a great place to me.

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“If there is no justice for the people, may there be no peace for the government.”

Miep's picture

Didn't we speak on The Telephone once? Back when I was blogging out my pain on Daily Kos?

New Mexico is partly New Mexico and partly Little Texas. And I'm not sure about who Las Cruces is.

There are a lot of good people in north central NM. But down here, it's very different.

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Stay on track. Stay in lane. Don't throw rocks.

Sorry I didn't see your question sooner. I hope you are doing great, and that you are happy wherever you are.

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“If there is no justice for the people, may there be no peace for the government.”

elenacarlena's picture

thought of: Can you use TOP to find friendly Kossacks in your area? I only mention them because their membership is so large. Just one or two friends with sympathetic interests can make such a huge difference. At least it does for me. I prefer a few close friends to a bunch of superficial friends.

Would your mother and/or other relatives be interested in moving to your area, particularly after her SO passes on? Presumably you're finding it difficult to be away right now while she's going through so much, as would I in similar circumstances; and NM would feel much more like home if Mom were there.

How about a pet? I have a wall decoration that says, "A house is not a home without a cat". Works for me! Not everyone's thing, I realize.

If you decide to move, you could take a few of your most valuable plants with you. Otherwise, you're leaving behind precious gifts for the next homeowner. If they don't appreciate it, that's on them. Meanwhile, you'll start adding beautiful value to your new place.

Keep us posted on your decision. I hope you either find a way to make NM more comfortable in the future or do have the opportunity to move somewhere better.

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Please check out Pet Vet Help, consider joining us to help pets, and follow me @ElenaCarlena on Twitter! Thank you.

shaharazade's picture

the west coast. Born and raised in LA like you I have no desire to move back. My parents moved to Portland OR when I was in high school. They hated it here as it was a alien landscape with trees, misty, rainy, skies and forests. They missed the bright colors palm trees and yuccas. They moved back to LA but I stayed.

I moved back to LA in my 20's to become a famous pop artist with a pop star husband. We were going to hit the big time, get rich and have statues of the 7 dwarfs in front of our stucco mansion. Elton John was going to come to dinner. I never felt at home never got rich or famous. We lived in Hollywood. It was fun for awhile but it was hot and crazy, not a good place to be poor. Wicked cops everywhere.

We kept moving north and ended up back in Portland Oregon. I too have set down roots of trees and plants and rocks. I have made the dense clay dirt into soil. We lived in a real community a compromise between us as Shah is a city slicker and I want to return to Bandon by the Sea pop. 1,500 where I lived in tar paper shack a cranberry bog until I met Shah and moved back to civilization in LA. Portland offered a small town feel with a diverse, funky, entertaining community of people. It had trees and vegetable gardens and goofy bungalow architecture all on 150 ft x50 ft lots. So we settled.

20 years later and LA or SF moved to us. Portland, my home is being demolished literally. Urban density, greed and crazy growth that's the ticket. The diverse community of people has been freeped for the new affluent demographic as my home is the 5th hottest real estate market in the country. I keep wanting to sell up and move to the memory, dream of a coastal town that most likely no longer exists. Should I go or should I stay. I'm thinking I'll stay. Fuck em. We made this our home inside and out.

Maybe the longing to go back to a place that no longer exists or never has except in your heart and mind is a fantasy we create of greener pastures. Home is where your hat is. Home is where you plant the trees you may never see full grown.
If you go you can find a place and make it your new home. If you want to find a community of people you will. Feeling trapped in a place or in your minds eye is a normal part of being human. I figure if I go or stay I take home with me. Yesterday I came to realize that I'm a lucky woman because home for me is where ever my love is. For now that consoles me and really what is time except now.

If you are up for the adventure Meip, your going to find a home be it in CA or wherever you find yourself.

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hecate's picture

Get shah Treatment, so he will understand that is paradise.

I didn't get rich, or hit the big-time, but I have many gnomes, scattered throughout my yard. I'll take the gnomes. ; )

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Miep's picture

Good advice.

As an aside: the more I read your writing, the more I am struck by what an original writer you are. I spend so much time reading. And I see a lot of writing that is awful, and a fair amount that is all right and correct, but not much that is truly original, and you meet the bar.

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Leema's picture

As you've noted much of what we consider home is entwined with the natural world around us...including the plants we may have nurtured.

Two years ago, at a fairly ripe age, I found my true home. Left CA and moved to a small town just north of Ashland, Oregon...named Talent. It is sort of the "just right" place (IMO) between big box Medford and boutique Ashland. It is both a designated tree city and an official bee city as we plant trees and try to help the bees Where community members can be seen pulling weeds on city property to avoid pesticides. It has a fairly involved and progressive citizenry...and town council. Summers are getting longer and hotter....sadly.

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When wealth rules, democracy dies.

Damnit Janet's picture

I moved from northern California, Cobb mountain area. The people there voted to do away with their full time, fully operated fire houses to just part time, volunteer fire houses there and last summer the entire mountain burned down. We mostly had to fight the school just to keep our disabled son in class. Horrible place. I think of the time there as one might think of prison, confinement or punishment... Yeah, one could say I have more issues than Vogue when it comes to small, rural red neck towns...

Fled the area is more like it. We were going to expat out but then got a job in the NW. Portland to be exact. I love Oregon. I'm originally from WA.

We have everything here. Mountains, beaches, rain forests, deserts. Fish, fruit, cheese, lamb, berries... and BERRIES!!! Marion! Smile

I am now a kayaker (fuckarthritis) and Oregon is the best place for me and my family to live, work, and play.

It's wonderland.

BUT... we do have some areas to avoid sadly and we do have some pathetic types who insist of (I'll quote the diarist" "mighty pretty country, but the whole point of the economy here is to ruin it" and we do have some crazy gun humpers around here.

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"Love One Another" ~ George Harrison

WindDancer13's picture

in California. Chula Vista (commonly referred to as Chulajuana which is located between Immoral Beach and Nasty City). Two years in Washington State courtesy of ex-husband's Naval career. Back to California. On to New Mexico for 15 years in the Belen area. Now in Michigan for the last 11 years.

I can understand being homesick for California. I miss Balboa Park tremendously. However, I won't go back there even though most of my brothers and sisters are there--which may actually be the reason I won't go back. = )

Lots and lots of family in Santa Fe, NM. but since my grandfather died, there really is no reason to go back there either. Miss the 4:00 pm thunderstorms though...beautiful!

MI is okay. It got me away from NM and provides me with a full four seasons and a whole new architecture and scenery to enjoy. But it is not where I plan to stay.

Right now, my plans, within the next few years, are to move to Europe. Not any particular place but as a temporary abider in many...six months here, a year there. However long it takes to see what I want to see and experience in any one country while living in the cheaper countrysides of each.

However, what I think I heard you say is that other than the things that you have planted and fostered is that you have no personal connections--friends--there. Long ago, by mostly personal choice enforced by PTSD, I became basically a hermit. I had spent most of my younger years being the social butterfly, then the workaholic. I had lots of acquaintances and few really close friends, but as life happens even those close friends disappeared one by one.

Occasionally, I miss the physical hug--part of that being human thing, but I find I can live without it. But it sounds to me that my experience with hermithood is not what you are looking for. It is not a place you are looking for, but connections. And those you can find anywhere. It is when you choose to, not where.

I have a lot of good memories of places, experiences and people wherever I have been, and fully intend to just keep on moving. The Internet is my social connection. What is within me is my center. The land underneath my feet is home.

My 2 cents.

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We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.--Aristotle
If there is no struggle there is no progress.--Frederick Douglass

Damnit Janet's picture

"mighty pretty country, but the whole point of the economy here is to ruin it"

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"Love One Another" ~ George Harrison

lotlizard's picture

Luxury housing developments? Even a gated community or two for the ultra-rich?

Not to mention military bases and pollution from munitions testing and dumping.

Sacred Soil or Training Site? Hawaiian Isle Used for Target Practice

For Hawaiians, the land is a living thing. We don’t “own” the land, we are the children of the land.

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mimi's picture

but big 1% elites and investor types do. Instead of treating the children of the land with respect, neglect their needs all the way. Child abusers ... What's going on there is wrong. Only the economic crash will correct that and the people who took the land and build their hotel complexes, gated apartment and mansion communities (even green ag land is condominiomized, private water and "cute" little houses go for outrageous prices) and I foresee parceled, condominium-ized land with cute little mini-houses (wooden shack-type cottages) rented out at prices no homeless would ever be able to pay. Military exercises and fenced off areas for the military all over, but hidden from the gullible eyes of the visitors. It's a libertarian neo-con's paradise owned by a couple of corporation, the churches and the military.

It still has enough of beautiful nature to make you forget it for a while, but it's getting harder and harder. 2006 to 2016 has brought a lot of changes. So sad.

I have seen on Big Island an area that was declared "sacred" by the native Hawaiians. You literally were not allowed to go in there and it was off-limits to everyone. It was truly a sanctuary, no noises at all. Beautiful. It's name is "Sacred Valley". You can look from the edges in the valley, but can't walk into it. The silence surrounding the valley is fascinating.
Sacred Valley on Big Island.jpg

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Shahryar's picture

for me, when I think of going home, it never means going back to where I was born and raised. Born in NYC (no thank you), raised in suburban New Jersey, I left as soon as I could and came west.

Now I feel stuck. Roots really does mean having something come out of you, digging itself into the ground, holding you fast. My folks used to have to cross out my address and phone number, writing in the new info, every 4 to 6 months when I was young. Then this happened, then the other and we ended up buying a house 26 years ago.

If only shaz knew and understood how I'd like to move to Bandon or some part of the Oregon coast. We'd need to figure out a way to get some money to fix the roof so we could sell the house. It's a great house, in one of the "hottest real estate markets in the country".

I'd stay but it's getting so hard to get around. Every other street has some nasty construction machine parked, making it hard to get through. These streets were made for horse traffic. They're not wide enough for a car parked on each side with two cars coming from opposite directions.

City planning has also failed. A couple of years back a streetlight was put in, one block north and one block east of us. Now cars have decided to avoid the light by driving down our street. And then there are those monstrosities they're building when they tear down single dwellings and put up 60 unit condos. The argument for the condos..that have no parking!!..is that the new tenants will all be riding their bicycles and taking public transportation. The reality is that they park their cars where they can, forcing people who live near them to park a little farther away. The ripple effect is that we sometimes have to park a block over if we go out on a Friday or Saturday night. It's like Union Street in San Francisco in the 80s! Which we fled from.

I've got my musical group here. We enjoy playing but, with all this new construction, the old venues are getting torn down. Slabtown, one of my favorites, is closed, to be replaced by condos. East End is gone, done in by a suspicious fire. Now if we moved to the coast I might not have a rocking band like this one but maybe I'd have a fun band...or maybe I'd just show up at Lloyd's, or the Minute, or whatever the local bar is called, on some weekend evening with my guitar. Then shaz could say "you're not going to Lloyd's again, are you?" That could be fun.

Anyway, despite my own misgivings and fear and roots having been put down, I know that changing one's life is not scary once the life is changed. You never know what's around the corner but once you get around that corner you find that it's nothing you should have worried about.

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Miep's picture

About making the leap.

I don't want to make any fast leaps, though. I am too tired to take wild chances like I used to.

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prfb's picture

Always makes me think of Steve Winwood's song:

Come down off your throne and leave your body alone
Somebody must change
You are the reason I've been waiting so long
Somebody holds the key

Well, I'm near the end and I just ain't got the time
And I'm wasted and I can't find my way home

Come down on your own and leave your body alone
Somebody must change
You are the reason I've been waiting all these years
Somebody holds the key

But I'm near the end and I just ain't got the time
Oh, and I'm wasted and I can't find my way home

But I can't find my way home
But I can't find my way home

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Damnit Janet's picture

that's a hard word to understand for a Navy Brat and later Navy Spouse, too

To this day, I just can't hang things up on a wall. That means committment. The few things on our wall now are because my husband just does it after a few attempts to get me involved in the decision or hanging. LOL

I still after 10 years have some shit in boxes yet unpacked...

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"Love One Another" ~ George Harrison

riverlover's picture

acquisitions came, enough to fill a house after lawn furniture graduate school living, and then the 80's recession and double unemployment and another job offer back in Ithaca for my not-yet husband and boxes and back we came, houseplants and all. Two years of rental and then house-building. I realized that I had boxes that I could not even remember the contents of. So I had lived without those for over two years, and didn't need them, obviously. When house was finished (pre-children) I had room to unpack and ceremoniously burned the cardboard boxes. They were a little harder to acquire then, not so much now in Amazon world.

Two kids and a 1200 sq ft addition. Kids grew up and left (not all their belongings, hmmm) and then husband died. Six years ago. I could at least get rid of some of his clothing, but not all, certain T-shirts are still here.

So alone with new puppy now in a 3+ bedroom house. I am feeling alone, but have yet to find a compatible. I am looking, a very part-time occupation. I might enjoy company for the hunker-down I see coming. I have the space to offer.

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Miep's picture

I have known that song pretty much since it came out, and it has long resonated.

Where is home, what does it mean to be home? That's the story people have written here in these comments. Great work peeps.

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mhagle's picture

I am an upper Midwestern person stuck in Texas.

Now it is April . . . the most beautiful month. Like June up north with many wildflowers, etc.

But we are descending into hell. Summer here sucks donkey dicks.

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Marilyn

"Make dirt, not war." eyo

Miep's picture

That's what we say down here in Little Texas, come June. Or May. Depends.

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Miep's picture

That has inspired such a terrific comment thread.

Thanks so much.

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riverlover's picture

Good rules of the road.

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