Status Quo Update

Some think Stan and I are adventurous; some think we are without roots; some think we are nuts! We may be all that, but for the time being, we are free.  Our work lives are done, sadly our parents have passed away, and our children are reared, happy, and settled.  While retirement left us with few obligations these days, the recliner and TV had no appeal.  Our thing, our choice, is unusual, I know, but it is simple; we chose to give up the security of home and live our retirement life as vagabonds, visiting many countries, and immersing ourselves in unfamiliar cultures, history, and adventures.  I’ve said this before and it still applies, we like it.

On this particular segment of our travels, by deciding to stay in a single place for several months instead of bopping around in different places, week after week, we gained the pleasure of spending our days in the usual way most people do. At times, we explore, make day trips, and even take short vacations to other areas, but most often, our days are like everyone else’s.  We shop for food, cook meals, clean the house, wash clothes, and tend plants, making the current place a home, and trying to leave it better than when we found it. And unlike most tourists, unless we are on one of our side trips or spending the day in the city, we cook and eat most meals at home.   

Some days we enjoy the pure luxury of doing nothing but walking on the beach or reading a good book on the terrace.  Always excited about what is next, our most challenging and necessary work is answering the often-repeated question, “What do you want to do today?” Or buckling down to plan the next adventure or to secure the apartment or house in our next destination.  Finding the right home in the next country is always hard but exciting!!! After all the Airbnb properties we have booked in the past, we have the task down to a science, but easily several days can be spent in the process. The place has to be conveniently located, near shopping and transportation, have room enough for guests, and have all the necessaries . . . wifi, air conditioning, full kitchen, washer, etc. — no studios and absolutely no shared bathrooms. As soon as our next place is locked in, we immediately start investigating what we might see and do there. Don’t get me wrong, although we excitedly look forward to the future, we are also mindful, amazed, and thankful for the gift of each ordinary day we have together where we are. For the most part, every single day is pleasant, and each night brings deep and brings peaceful rest.  Sometimes though, thoughts cross our minds . . . Is this real?  Is this truly happening? 

We came to Malaga to live by the sea, find the warm sun, meet interesting people, see a bit more of this part of Spain, and improve our ability to speak Spanish.  For sure, we are doing all we set out to do but I must confess, we are still working on the language part.  At this point, we speak Spanish well enough to get along.  Each of us having spent over 950 consecutive days doing at least one Duolingo practice lesson. And from that, we know a lot of Spanish words but still cannot readily speak Spanish even in an elementary style.  We can ask and say many basic things, but can we have a full conversation with a Spanish-speaking person or understand a conversation we overhear on the bus?  Heck no, not at all.  We may never get to that level.  Learning a second language is one of the hardest but most brain-stretching things I, for one, have ever done. I keep hoping that one day, it will all just come to me. 

Remember my tiny terrace garden of tomato sprouts and basil?   It is growing, and I am delighted!  Born scavengers, Stan and I furnished my mini-garden with castoffs.  On our walks, we found discarded pots, big enough to repot seedlings I originally planted in the bottoms of plastic bottles as pots.    The dried cuttings of Wandering Jew I rescued from a trash heap along the side of a road are now healthy.  Their brilliant green leaves and deep purple undersides are now lush and gleam in good health.  Everything we have planted has responded with growth and vigor.  We even cleaned, trimmed, and repotted the sad collection of succulents that were barely surviving on the terrace when we first arrived.   

Like a miracle, a plant cart for my plants showed up yesterday.  Outside the recycling bins near our house, someone left a wooden bar/drink cart with wheels.  We exclaimed, “A plant cart for our terrace!” We pushed it home and loaded it up. Besides the two founding tomato sprouts that started all this, our only purchase for the garden has been soil from the China store.  First, we bought a small bag, then another small bag, and then finally after being sent for one more, Stan came home carrying a 50-liter bag.  He knows me only too well.  Because we will leave this lovely place in June, we may never get to enjoy a single cherry tomato or a sprig of basil on good bread with olive oil and a chunk of fresh mozzarella, but these plants restore my soul.  Perhaps the next guests here might adopt my little garden. 

I can’t end this story without saying ours is not a storybook life.  While we take great joy in living abroad, learning, and doing, there is so much we miss.  I miss the nearness of my youngest daughter, making dinner and having her and her dogs join us on a Sunday afternoon or pop over for an impromptu Tuesday night supper after her work.  I miss having a house big enough so that both our daughters and granddaughter can sleep all in one house and wake up together on Easter or Christmas morning.   I miss my real backyard garden. I miss watching it flourish so I can grow and give bags of vegetables to my neighbors.  I miss my house on Belmont Trace, my neighbors, and the pleasant routine of living there.   I miss smiling as we hear the occasional car horn beep as a gym buddy passes our house along Johnson Ferry Road saying “hello.”  I miss sitting on the patio or at the dinner table with old friends sharing everyday things as well as our mutual moments of celebration or great need.

But most of all today, I miss not being there to hold the hand of my sweet sister (sister-in-law) and her children as they go through the sorrow of burying her father.  Texts and calls just don’t get that kind of sharing done.  I am left with a helpless, empty feeling.   

Rest in peace, Edgar Alvin Lauderdale.  You were a mountain of a man, smart, capable, inventive, and a gruff and stubborn Teddybear who loved and was loved by so many in return.  Saying prayers for our family and sending all the love I can.  I wish we were there.