Five Long Years

This is cheating, I know, using a photo from a nursery to demonstrate Maine's colors. Shut it.

Five years ago today, I can tell you exactly where we were. Or where I was, at least. I was riding shotgun in a 24-foot Budget moving truck around sunset as we pulled into Scranton, Pennsylvania. We were towing our Corolla on a trailer and we were pulling off the interstate into downtown Scranton. Matty was driving and Duke, my 85-pound doofus of a chocolate Lab, was wedged between us in the cockpit of the truck. Jimmy, my other friend helping us move, was right behind us driving our other car.

This guy will drive your moving
truck so long as you pay for
gas and Buffalo wings.

For our last night on the road, I'd purchased a room in the Hilton in downtown Scranton. You know, as a treat on the last night of a 3,000-mile trip. Somehow it hadn't occurred to me to think of one tiny detail: Where, exactly, did we plan on parking this 24-foot moving truck with a trailer attached to it?

For the first time all trip, I started to freak out a bit. We had to find a Wal-Mart, or something, I reasoned, as our truck lumbered into town. This was going to be a hassle.

About a block from the hotel, I looked to my right. We were rolling past the University of Scranton football stadium and its parking lot. The University of Scranton must let out early, because there wasn't a single car in the parking lot. And we were leaving around 7 a.m. the next morning, so, we figured, why not park in the stadium lot? Somebody would have to *really* want to tow us if they were going to haul that thing out of there.

Finding the lot was a bit of good luck on a charmed trip. The truck was still there in the morning. The fancy hotel with marble floors allowed dogs. Even 85-pound chocolate Labs who constantly mouth breathe.

LET'S GO SWIMMING!

I wish I could tell you everything since that trip has been charmed. Life isn't that simple. Without hesitation, I can say this much: Five years later, it has absolutely been worth it all. We quit good jobs. We moved 3,000 miles to a town where we didn't know anybody. We endured PA school. We moved to Boston. We rebuilt our careers. We moved back to Maine.

I'm reminded why on days like this. It was sunny and spectacular out. Dolly and I played cards on the back porch – with Nacho Man blasting Zeppelin on his phone and wondering why the phone was getting so hot – while our dogs laid in the grass.

And it can be slow arriving, but the colors here knock you out. The Wife and I lived in Utah for seven years. You get used to brown and variations of brown when you look at the desert landscape. The flowers here, the blue sky, the leaves in the fall, the red-brick sidewalks, the mountains you can see from the Western Prom. It's all so New Englandy.

It's colorful here in other ways. A Portland barber shop also sells replica swords and daggers. The Walgreens in town sells live lobsters. The coffee shop down the street has a table made of chalkboard. It is all delightfully weird.

And we got lucky five years ago. The Wife – or The Mother of The Wife, depending on who is telling the story – spotted a "For Rent" sign in front of JoJo's duplex. JoJo thought we were in the witness protection program because I had changed my name and we were moving across the country, but she let us rent half of her house. That brought us at least three rock-solid friendships that make us feel blessed. (Except when JoJo asked me today to lift heavy boxes possibly infested with rats. Can't wait!)

We were knocked out five years ago and the feeling hasn't really changed. Utah was tough for us. Our jobs were challenging. TW and I hardly saw each other. We got tired of defending Utah to people from outside of the state and, frankly, we got a little tired of Utah. We also miss it a little now. The skiing, the ease of access to the skiing, the hiking and the weather are all world-class.

But we've set down roots here. Even just now, while starting up this blog, Google asked me if I wanted to register this domain name. It's only $12. I thought about it for a second and smirked. Sure. Why not? It's a little anniversary present to me and my home. Happy Maine-a-versary to me and TW.

My girls, ignoring me as per usual.