Hobbits In Rivendell

Someone commented, yesterday, that things seemed to be moving awfully fast in our move to Glasgow, and we had to think … and to look back at email … and then to realize: we’ve only known that we’re going since 12-July-2007. That’s 20 days ago, at around this time of morning, actually, and since then our lives have exploded.

In order to prepare a house to rent, you have to SHOULD take care of any little problems before the new tenants move in. So, since the last thing we’d been waiting on was the bathroom, we needed to at least tackle the problem area: the bathtub surround. You see, we’d had some persistent mold problems around the base of the surround, and were told that the stubborn mold must be coming from somewhere, so we needed to tear out the surround. We wanted to do this in any event, because we needed to make sure that the tub was well-seated and not leaking (because of some damage we’d seen to the kitchen ceiling, below it)

So, in the midst of packing (that first picture was the view from our front door, as of yesterday), we tore out the bathtub surround. And the green-board from around it, down to the studs. We discovered mold, and some very shoddy plumbing work: you’ll note the burns where they soldered the pipes in place without anything to protect the drywall. We’re amazed, actually, because everything seems to be in good shape – and the handy-man agrees, thankfully.

So, in 20 days, we’ve packed up our entire house (well, everything that’s not being taken with us on the airplane or being sold / gifted), we’ve torn out our bathroom, and we’ve been frantically trying to order our lives. We’ll be a bit more balanced and free after the next week or so, because today we drive from near San Francisco down to Los Angeles, to visit the Consulate in the morning and then to attend a conference over the weekend. After that, D. teaches a class in Sacramento for three days while T. revises a few pages in her latest manuscript before sending it on to the editor. THEN we can sit back and wonder at our lives.

Our poor garden may get some attention at that point. Perhaps D’s camera will be back from its second trip to the repair shop. We’ll purchase a knife (as we’ve packed each and every single one of them), perhaps some Violin music (again, packed). Perhaps the Chaos will take a breather … or not.

Down the swift dark stream you go
Back to lands you once did know!
Leave the halls and caverns deep,
Leave the northern mountains steep,
Where the forest wide and dim
Stoops in shadow grey and grim!
Float beyond the world of trees
Out into the whispering breeze,
Past the rushes, past the reeds,
Past the marsh’s waving weeds,
Through the mist that riseth white
Up from mere and pool at night!
Follow, follow stars that leap
Up the heavens cold and steep;
Turn when dawn comes over land,
Over rapid, over sand,
South away! and South away!
Seek the sunlight and the day,
Back to pasture, back to mead,
Where the kine and oxen feed!
Back to gardens on the hills
Where the berry swells and fills
Under sunlight, under day!
South away! and South away!
Down the swift dark stream you go
Back to lands you once did know!

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

– D & T

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Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Someone commented, yesterday, that things seemed to be moving awfully fast in our move to Glasgow, and we had to think … and to look back at email … and then to realize: we’ve only known that we’re going since 12-July-2007. That’s 20 days ago, at around this time of morning, actually, and since then our lives have exploded.

… [More of this post Here]

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

The strangest things, in this process of cleaning out our lives, haven’t come from any of the logistical things – such as packing or moving – but have come from realizations about the differences between the culture of the United States and that of Scotland / the U.K. / Europe. One of those realizations came the other day as I was looking at Google Earth … and realized that I had my sense of scale all wrong.

You see, when one picks up a map, one has some general idea of scale – as in, a map of California is going to be about 1,000 miles long, because it will include a little bit of Oregon, and maybe some of Mexico, just to get all of California into the picture. So, coming from this perspective, when one picks up a map of, say, the Glasgow area, and sees all of these “towns” listed, one thinks that the place must just be huge … and one would be wrong.

This comes, possibly, from Europe having been settled for so many thousands of years before the Automobile made everything sprawl. So, where the map of Glasgow may encompass 20 miles on a side, the number of “towns” mentioned says, to the American mind, that the map should really be describing an area of, say, several hundred miles on a side … because, to an American, a single city would have just as many roads as the entire Glasgow area, yet would be just one place, rather than 50 smaller towns. American cities are built on the scale of the Automobile, rather than the ox-cart.

I won’t claim to have thoroughly absorbed this fact into my subconscious, but my conscious is able to look at the information, and to look at the sheer number of trains, subways, buses, and bike trails, and to let me think through giving up that great American symbol: the Automobile.

The little red one is a 2000 Honda Insight Hybrid.* We were the 7th in our county to buy one, and it has been a true joy to drive. It’s going away, though, along with the beige one (Hybrid Civic), because we just won’t need them. Oh, true, we’d enjoy having access to a vehicle … but the payoff just isn’t there. If we were to have a car, we’d have to have someplace to park it, we’d have to register and insure it, and we’d probably not end up driving it all that often. That’s not to mention the fact that we own them both outright, and can make better use of the $30K than by having it tied up in a hunk of metal!

This has, of course, been a source of … confusion, for certain relatives. They simply don’t understand that Europe is set up on a different scale, and that having a car is different. And, perhaps, they don’t understand that it’s not a need, as it is here.

I suppose the reverse is true – that Europeans may not really understand, on that visceral level, how stranded an American probably feels without a car. It’s not just independence, you see: it’s on a level of necessity. Yes, we could probably survive without a car in the U.S., but we couldn’t thrive without one. In order to find the jobs I find, I’d need to spend about 4 hours per day on Mass Transit, as opposed to two hours per day in a car, and that’s the best case scenario. Worst case? Worst case, here in California, would have been taking public transit for one of my previous jobs, in which I would have spent two hours to go 20 miles, each way. I could have ridden my bike … except that there were no shoulders nor dedicated bike lanes, so I’d be riding in vehicle traffic for extended periods of time. Simply unsafe, at best.

So, for all of you out there who think we haven’t thought it through: yes, I’m nervous about not having a car. However, my brain knows that I don’t need a car, and our friends abroad assure us that it’s not uncommon. So – the cars go. And we go – into a smaller world.

*Note: For those of you who care about this sort of thing: the Insight’s gotten better than 50 miles to the gallon (4.7 liters/100 km) for its entire life, even when I’ve been awful to it and driven it faster than it’s wanted to be driven. Most of the time I’m averaging 59 mpg (4 liters/100 km), and I’ve even done so well as to get 83 mpg (2.8 liters/100 km), although that was really sticking to the speed rules, and I haven’t pulled it off since.

– D (& T)

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

The strangest things, in this process of cleaning out our lives, haven’t come from any of the logistical things – such as packing or moving – but have come from realizations about the differences between the culture of the United States and that of Scotland / the U.K. / Europe. One of those realizations came the other day as I was looking at Google Earth … and realized that I had my sense of scale all wrong.

… [More of this post Here]

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

This morning T. had a hair appointment. She’s been going to the same stylist for something like 10 years (when you find a good one, you keep her). So, we were a bit worried when she hadn’t replied to our emails about leaving for Scotland. It turns out that she’s excitedly planning to renew her passport, which she let lapse sometime around 1980. She remembers Belgium – with all of its unpasteurized milk, rhubarb which burned her mouth, and strangely aged meats – with quite a bit of fondness. She also recounted to us a couple who’d attended a wedding recently who came wearing kilts … and “danced the butt.” Whatever that means, and we’re not sure we really want to know.

… [More of this post Here]

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

This morning T. had a hair appointment. She’s been going to the same stylist for something like 10 years (when you find a good one, you keep her). So, we were a bit worried when she hadn’t replied to our emails about leaving for Scotland. It turns out that she’s excitedly planning to renew her passport, which she let lapse sometime around 1980. She remembers Belgium – with all of its unpasteurized milk, rhubarb which burned her mouth, and strangely aged meats – with quite a bit of fondness. She also recounted to us a couple who’d attended a wedding recently who came wearing kilts … and “danced the butt.” Whatever that means, and we’re not sure we really want to know.

Someone remarked that we’d not been around much, nor had been posting much. Well … no. We’ve not been paying much attention to the world at all, except where it pertains to us. We’ve been working away, sometimes more slowly than we’d want, but things are moving along, and we’re nearly packed. So, with our entire home in disarray, and our lives upside down, we had to just stop to reflect a bit on it all.

We’re beginning to feel as if, maybe, just maybe, we’re changing our roles in people’s lives – from the safe anchors who’re always around, to grappling hooks, bringing the world closer to them, and making it accessible, simply by being somewhere interesting.

So, despite our silences, and our absences, and our inward-looking attitudes of late, we’re beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel … and it’s not a train coming towards us.

One final thought, and that is upon the kindness of strangers. We have been truly blessed in finding people who are willing to help us on our journey, by doing things such as finding an extra class for D. to teach, or in being willing to be flexible about purchasing the car, so that D. can actually reach that last class (which he teaches the three days immediately preceding our departure). Along those lines, we happened upon an article discussing this kindness; it lined up so neatly with where things are today that we had to point it out, and to say “thank you” to all of our supporters and well-wishers.

– D & T

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

In becoming Tookish Hobbits (rather than proper hobbits, as would stay home in their holes), we’ve had to think through some things. You see, a proper hobbit would have an extensive collection of “stuff,” and would be reluctant to lose it. So, being good little hobbits, we’d collected stuff … but, upon thinking about leaving it, we’ve found that we actually don’t care about most of it, and that we can leave it behind with fairly little trauma aside from the logistics of getting it out & to wherever it’s going.

No, the stuff just doesn’t have the power to hold us here, really.

So, we thought some more, and asked ourselves what was keeping us anchored here? Well, we have friends and family, of course … but would we really be so far away as to not see them? Wouldn’t we be able to keep in touch? Well, yes, because of the connected nature of the world today, and because we’re fairly certain that we’ll probably end up spending more time with people,

because we’ll be someplace interesting, and people will want to visit. So, while we’re certain there will be many who’ll not just be dropping in, we’re also sure that we’ll be able to keep up with people fairly well, either through this blog, or email, or even over the telephone.

T. can work anywhere, especially now that she has established herself somewhat. And, really, so can D., when he’s not in school. So … we concluded that the only thing which was keeping us here, really, was the fear of letting go – of things, yes, but of the KNOWN, in favor of the UNKNOWN. But that’s the way of it, really, isn’t it?

“Now you are in for it at last, Bilbo Baggins,” he said to himself.
“You went and put your foot right in it that night of the party, and now you
have got to pull it out and pay for it! Dear me, what a fool I was and am!”
said the least Tookish part of him. “I have absolutely no use for
dragon-guarded treasures, and the whole lot could stay here for ever, if
only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own front-hall at
home!” – J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

– D & T

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.