I need to live in a land where it rains

When we moved to Austin in March we told our family and friends we would stay for at least five years.  We figured that would give NK substantial on-the-job experience and would be far enough in the future that the thought of another move did not make us what to run screaming the other direction (have I mentioned that we’ve moved four times in four years?).  I was looking forward to having no move in sight; we’d be able to put down real roots and become part of the community.  Six months into life in Central Texas, how am I feeling?

GET ME OUT OF HERE.

The weather is sucking away my soul.  It may sound melodramatic, but it’s how I feel.  I think it has rained for a total of an hour since we moved here six months ago.  It’s not the heat—truly, it’s not.  Yes, it has been over a hundred degrees for 75+ days this year (a new record).  Yes, I do work outside on farms most of the week in that heat.  Yes, this is a real exchange I had with another volunteer on Friday:

Volunteer: It feels so nice out today.

Me: I know!  It’s only supposed to be 101 degrees today!

We’re excited about it only being 101 degrees.  What kind of place do I live where 101 degrees feels like a cold front?  Even so, it’s not the heat.  I can deal with the heat.  We haven’t even turned on our air conditioning (except for the weekend when my sister and her husband visited).

If it’s not the heat, then what is it?  The lack of rain.  When I see or hear about rain (on the television, in conversations, in my dreams…) it literally brings tears to my eyes.  The environment here feels so… inhospitable… like we (human beings) shouldn’t be living here.

This weather has reminded me of discussions NK and I last June when I applied for a job in Tucson.  We had long conversations about whether it would be the right move to make if I got the job (I didn’t).  What would it mean to be living in a land that was not meant to support that many people?  In the end, we didn’t have to decide between the job and our environmental/philosophical values, so I’m not sure what the end of that story would have been.  I can say that we both feel that there are certain places that people are not supposed to live in the numbers they currently do, and the southwest of this country is one of those places.  Austin is not supposed to be in the southwest climate.  It’s supposed to be in beautiful Texas Hill Country.

I call bullshit.

I need to live in a land where it rains.  Everything here is brown.  What’s not brown is disgustingly green grass that homeowners are wasting precious water watering.  I can’t stay for five years.  I absolutely cannot.  This year is supposedly extreme, but it seems that extreme is the direction weather patterns are moving.  The last extreme year? 2009.  Exactly.  I’ll wait for the supposedly wet winter months before drawing my line in the sand, but if next summer is the same as this one we’ll need to start seriously looking for work in a city where rain is not the rarity that it is here.

My Life as a Texan

I moved to Austin, TX two and a half weeks ago.  Even though I have lived in Texas for two summers (one in Dallas, one in San Antonio), I never thought I would make a long term home in the Lone Star State.  I know I’ve only been here for less than a month, but it’s looking like we (me and my husband) will be here for at least the next five years.  Maybe more.  Maybe forever.  (But hopefully not forever because I love and miss my family and eventually would like to be closer.)  He found a job that is perfect for him, so here we are.

What do I do on a daily basis?  Well, I’m still trying to figure that out.  I spend a good portion of the day job searching, which involves going from one job site to another sending resumes and cover letters out into the ether.  It’s fun.  Okay, not really.  Then I spend some time looking up volunteer opportunities centered around gardening/farming, which I love.  The rest of the time I grocery shop, cook, clean, read, go to the gym… it makes me feel a teeny-tiny bit like a housewife from the 1950s, except I don’t wear pearls when I vacuum.  It’s been a challenging adjustment into this new role in my marriage/life.  Before the move, I was waiting tables and working at a bookstore (a good use of my graduate degree, right?) to pay the rent while my husband focused on his job search.  We made a conscious decision that we would prioritize his job search since a) he knows what he wants to do with his life and I am less clear and b) he has a more specialized field while I have many interests and possible career paths.  It just made more sense to move across the country for his job, not mine.

I have two degrees–undergrad in religion, master of public policy–just waiting for me to use them.  The trick is to figure out how I’m going to apply those degrees in a way that brings joy to my soul, contributes to a better world, and allows me to have a balanced life.  No small task.  Are my expectations too high?  Possibly.  But I am not prepared to settle for less before I have even tried to find what I want.  I think one of the many blessings of being in a marriage or partnership is that you are a team that supports one another.  While my husband was looking for jobs, I worked so he could fully devote himself to that task.  Now the tables have turned and it’s my chance to focus on my career.
I have a lot more to say on this topic, but I need some time to formulate the rest of my thoughts before I post them for the entire blogosphere (really, for my two readers–love you both) to read.