Rosa's Deliciousness

Rosa's Cafe & Tortilla Factory is one of the best Tex-Mexican places to eat.  Sadly, they are only in West Texas.  I've craved nachos, steak burritos, tomatillo salsa and chocolate cake from there for over 2 years.  :le sad sigh:

As we sped through Amarillo a few weeks ago after our week in Arkansas I saw a billboard for Rosa's and my mouth immediately began to water.  We were not hungry really; we'd just had lunch an hour out of Oklahoma City and some light snacks shortly after the OK/TX border.  But the part of my brain that reminds me to indulge in simple pleasures when I can because that's what life is made of, that part I'm trying to listen to a lot more often -- that part was screaming at me, "Stop! Gobble up some nachos! Snarf down a hunk of chocolate cake! It will be good for you!"

So we did.  I cut across 3 lanes of I-40 traffic and careered down the exit ramp, flipped a quick U-ie and came to a happy stop right in front of Rosa's.

I pinkpuffyglitteryheart Rosa's.

Cadillac Ranch

I am so glad we stopped here.  It is one of those things we will never forget.

Home

I have struggled for 4 years, wondering where Home was. I got divorced and suddenly my home was not where it should have been or what I thought it was.  Broken marriage vows will do that to a person.  I had to recreate a home.  And then some of the people I considered part of my home moved away.  I still had bits and pieces of my reconstructed home but not enough to make it feel whole.

I moved to Colorado, thinking I might find Home here.  But that was tough because everything was new.  I had to enroll my kids in a school district where I didn't know anyone (this was huge -- in Midland I knew everyone or at least someone who knew someone, you know?), make new friends, acclimate myself to the culture, find a new grocery store, etc.  That's a difficult chore.  It left me feeling that not only hadn't I found my home, but maybe I'd also destroyed the little bit of home I had in Texas.

I didn't think I'd find home in Arkansas.  I did a huge amount of growing up there and I know lots of people there.  My parents are there.  I love them dearly, but I don't feel like I fit in Arkansas.  In fact, I'm certain that I don't fit in Arkansas.  As much as my parents contribute to my home, Arkansas isn't Home.

I wondered if New Mexico might be Home. But following the ex-husband would not help me rebuild Home.  It just wouldn't.  You can imagine why.

In the 20 months since I arrived in this beautiful place, I've come to a conclusion:  Home is not about location.  The real estate business has it all wrong.  Home is about peace.  Home is feeling like you fit.  Home is taking bits and pieces of your life and fitting them together to make something meaningful, no matter where you are.  Home is the feeling you have when you wake up and when you go to sleep.  Home is about memories from the past and plans for the future and living in this moment, all at once.

I think I've finally found Home.  It's great to be here.

Texans, Take Heed

Our Tamiflu drug rep came to the office today. I eagerly await her visit every week because she brings us the latest stats on flu tracking across the country. I have a weird preoccupation with this. We've been pleasantly surprised not to have much flu activity in our office or across the country up to now. Or at least, we were.

In the Tamiflu rep's words: It Has Hit. She showed me a map of the United States with color-coded sections denoting High, Moderate and Low Flu Activity. High is red, Moderate is orange and Low is yellow.

Immediately, my eyes fell upon Colorado. Colorado is entirely red which means we are swimming in a deep sea of creepy-crawly flu bugs. Blech. I'm so glad we took care of inoculation weeks ago. This is the one time of year I will consent to the use of Lysol wipes in my home.

Next, I checked out Texas. My friends, you have it bad. A teeny sliver of the Gulf Coast is moderate, as is the very northernmost edge of the panhandle. The rest of you ... all I can say is, I hope you had your flu shot. Also, washing your hands needs to take up the better part of your day. It's not pretty.

Stay healthy, all!

One Year

Today is February 2, 2009; one year exactly since I left Texas. It doesn't feel like it has been a year. So much of Colorado still feels new to me. I guess that's what happens after spending the entirety of my adult life thus far in one city.

A few times during the last year, various people have asked me if this move was worth it, if I'm sure I made the right decision. In a word, yes. Yes, it has been worth it and yes, I made the right decision. But that doesn't mean I don't miss Texas. We had a good life there and I miss a lot of it.

Unfortunately, life doesn't allow me to pick and choose pieces and compile them into my own personal utopia. In Texas, I had the perfect job for me, the perfect church for me and a lot of very good friends. But my nearest family was an 8 hour drive away. Here, I have settled for a job I like, but not love. I'm making friends. But I have family 15 minutes from me. In either place, I'm missing things important to me.

Mom and Dad always said life isn't fair. Boy, were they right.

Thunderstorms

I love thunderstorms. I love the sounds of the rain and thunder, the flashing of the lightning and most especially the smell. I even enjoy the occasional hail stone.

Texas has some amazing thunderstorms. Last summer was heaven for me. There were several major ones -- ones that began in the early evening and lasted all night. Thunder woke me up a few times and I loved lying in bed and listening to it. When things calmed down, I fell asleep again to the sound of the rain on the windows and on the roof.

I really miss the fantastic thunderstorms in Texas. Thunderstorms are rare in Colorado. I think the worst part is that I am teased way too often. It's very common to see huge rain clouds coming over the mountains. A huge swathe of the sky turns black and I can tell it's raining on the foothills. But then it all dries up and blows away before anything happens here.

We did have a pretty nice thunderstorm this evening, though. There was bona fide window-rumbling thunder and some beautiful lightning. It didn't last long but I soaked it up while I could.

It's Definitely a Very Small World

Yesterday I checked in a patient that had just returned from out of town. Her parents were following up with their doctor here because she'd been very sick and had to be admitted to the hospital. Her mother handed me the hospital discharge summary. It was in Fort Smith; the very hospital where I did nursing clinicals 8 years ago.

At Chick-Fil-A today, I mentioned to the cashier that we recently moved here from Texas. He asked where in Texas and I told him Midland. As I took another breath to explain where that is -- because no one ever knows -- he said, "No way, that's where I grew up!"

Sometimes life is so weird, I wouldn't believe it if I weren't living it.

A Few Thoughts About Our New Home

The wind blows a lot more than I expected. A windy day here is not unlike a normal day in West Texas.

The winter isn't that bad. See my previous post dedicated to just this subject.

The mountains look different every day. Something always changes, whether it's the snow on them, the clouds over them, the haze around them, the haze here. It's always something.

Plowed snow is not pretty a week after it falls. It's nasty, slushy, black muck. It sticks around forever. And Samuel gravitates to it like lint to a sweater.

People are exceedingly nice. I have gotten full-blown smiles from complete strangers in Target, at the bank, in the library, every where.

Service in stores and restaurants -- even fast food -- is amazing.

It's not as hard to find my way around as I thought it would be. I thought I'd be dragging Jennifer every where with me or calling her for directions for months.

I have found two radio stations I love. One is called Martini Radio. They play Jack Johnson, Death Cab for Cutie, Amy Winehouse and lots of other artists you don't typically hear on Top 40 only stations. The other one is a Spanish station, with none of the Norteño that I can't stomach. They play Maná, Juanes, Marco Antonio Solís and everyone else I love. Yay!

I Belong!

I finally got my Colorado license plates yesterday. So now, since total strangers can't tell that I am a transplant, I actually feel like I belong here. Little do they know that I still possess a Texas driver's license with a hole punched in it and an addendum to prove that I have applied for a Colorado driver's license. I'm fooling them all! Mwahahaha!

I really don't know what that means. I guess it means that I can cross off a few other things on the To Do List. Other than that, the significance is pretty close to nothing. Whatever. I just like typing out the evil laugh.

I felt a little twinge of nostalgia while removing my Texas plates and securing the Colorado ones yesterday. That vehicle was bought in Texas and I've driven it primarily in Texas for well over 5 years. At the time it was purchased, I never considered that I'd ever move to Colorado. I was living a totally different life with no desire to change anything.

I have no idea why the simple act of changing license plates triggered all that thought. The significance of that is pretty nonexistent, too.

Neglect

So, I haven't posted anything significant in a while. Things have been crazy hectic since before our arrival in Colorado. Between the last minute packing up, the traveling and the settling in, I've barely had a moment to collect my thoughts. What a whirlwind!

The last week of our Texas residency was spent in a flu-induced haze of fever, coughing and exhaustion. It was awful. Truly awful. The kids and I missed most of our going away stuff, which was very sad. It made the good-byes even sadder since we didn't get to say many of them.

Our friends came through in an amazing way to pack us up and see us off. I can't say enough how much I appreciated the help with getting boxes, the friends who took my kids for a bit so I could pack and the army of volunteers who loaded the U-Haul. I will not forget your helpfulness. (Although, I have wondered if maybe it was a bit of pushing to get us out of town? Totally kidding! Ha!)

And once again, I am reminded how great my family is. Dad took off three days of work, flew to Texas, drove the U-Haul to Colorado and then flew back home. On Super Bowl weekend. He's a great dad, huh? The Amazingtons, also known as Jennifer and Caleb, let us stay with them for a week. And then they made countless trips up and down the stairs to my second floor apartment to help me unload the U-Haul. My grandparents gifted me some much appreciated funds, without my asking. Three cheers for awesome family! I really could not have made this move without everyone. Come to think of it though, without family here, I wouldn't have moved here. Whatever.

We are getting settled in. Our new place is great. It's slightly larger than our last one and has great storage spaces -- a must for an organizational freak like myself. I took the kids to register for school today. We are fortunate to be in an excellent school district; I expect good things from it. I interview with a pediatric home health agency on Thursday morning. If that doesn't seem to be a good fit for me, there are a few other leads to follow. Luckily, nurses are always in demand. So, we are getting our bearings, one little baby step at a time.

I have to share a small victory. I got a bit lost looking for the school registration office today but decided to go with it and take the opportunity to get to know some other streets in the area. I am proud to say that I resisted calling for help in the form of Google maps and found my way back around all by myself! Sure, I drove in a few concentric circles around my goal, but I did it! Finding my way out of that neighborhood back to my own presented its own adventure too, but I pulled that one off fairly smoothly.

Next step: trade out my Texas tags for Colorado tags so that when I cut someone off in traffic (accidentally!), they don't think it's because I'm from out of town and don't know my way around.

Some Things I Will Miss

I will miss a lot of things about this place. Some things are obvious: friends, my job, our church, the library. I will miss the friendly openness and small town community feeling. I will miss knowing all the 'short cuts' and feeling like I know most of what there is to know about this town.

Other things aren't so obvious. They are the smaller, inconspicuous things that I am afraid I will forget because they don't stick in my mind all the time. Here are a few.


This is the sunset view from my front door. I have seen that sky in every imaginable shade of pink, orange, yellow, purple and blue. I know there will be more sunsets in more places, but I'm going to miss this one.


These are the two trees I can see from my office window. In the spring and summer they are green and lush. In the fall they turn brilliant shades of crimson, scarlet and gold. They always make me smile, as they are among the few truly beautiful trees in this desert.


The kids and I have watched -- and attempted to catch -- frogs, turtles, ducks, dragon flies and fish in and around this pond.


Believe it or not, I will miss these big, green fluff balls. They are what eventually dry up, get ripped out of the ground and make tumbleweeds. They can be pretty huge, too. I dragged one out of the street last week that was well over 4 feet across. They're kind of fun to run over with your car if they aren't huge.


This playground is one of the coolest ever. All the play structures are made from welded rebar and sheet metal. The other end of the playground has an airplane with slides coming out of it. Awesome.



How could one not miss this? It's a Texas-size longhorn skull. Pure Texas class right there, ladies and gentlemen. And yeah, there's a little part of me that will miss it.

There are lots of things I will not miss -- dust storms, constant wind, scorpions and stifling summer heat are a few that come to mind. I will not miss the lack of rain or the brown grass. I will not miss the thick odor of oil wells. At least for a while. Something tells me that I might look back on a few of these things with a sort of fondness, once I've been away from them for a bit.  But for the things I will miss ... I only hope that I will get back here for a visit occasionally.