Happy in Tally

An old friend I grew up with recently asked me, "What is the weirdest thing about living in Southern Oregon again?"

Tough question.

I could have answered, "Trying to be peers with the adults in my community and church that were once my leaders and teachers."

or

"Trying to define my family as an individual identity with our own habits and traditions while living in close proximity to both extended families."

But I chose this answer instead: "HOW SMALL IT IS!"

I rather crave city life. I miss the urban Cleveland life. I miss the noise and scurryings of the huge market in Guadalajara. I miss driving up busy I-15 to work in Salt Lake City. I long for the buzz and energy 70,000 students bring to Utah Valley. I dream of living in Portland or San Francisco or New York.

Taylor thinks I'm crazy. He couldn't be happier to live in this little place that only has three stoplights. We live in a tiny town, nestled between two small towns. When we first moved back to this valley of our childhoods, I couldn't believe I could function without Nordstrom and IKEA and SuperTarget.

As with everything else in life though, I am trying to focus more on the positives than the negatives of this situation. The positives like prolific growers' markets, the mountain view out my living room windows, the quiet nights, the abundance of local, natural yogurt brands at the grocery store, and the great personalities that inhabit a small town.

Yesterday evening, as we loaded the boys in their Burley chariot and rode our bikes down Talent Avenue, I looked around me and breathed it all in. We are rounding the corner on our first lap here in Oregon, I realized. Almost one whole year since Taylor (literally) lifted me over this threshold.

We parked our bikes in between the darling local flower shop and Inti Tacos. We dined on shrimp and chile verde tacos on Inti's patio, adorned with the charmingest of lights. I sat back and listened to the pair of teachers eating behind us--grading papers over their comida. We chatted with the owner of the delish taco shop. I peered in the flower shop window and determined to come back soon. I looked at my three boys, the littlest two of which were miraculously well behaved. I reminded myself that I could be happy with them living in a garbage can.

We paid our bill (feeling rich having determined how much the IRS gets to send back to us this year) and pedaled home in the now chill air. Baths and wrestling on Blaine's bed. Stories read in Blaine's couch-cushion fort.

Small town? Yeah, I can do small town.