The Art of Downsizing

Matt is a decision-making wizard, but for me, it’s a much harder process. When faced with choices, I hesitate and second-guess and usually over-analyze. You can imagine, then, what it was like at the Vial residence as we packed up our 2 bedroom - 1 bath house and prepared to move into a 16x20 cabin in the woods. Matt approached the task with a zealous “Let’s purge!!” attitude which clashed a bit with my nostalgic and sentimental frame of mind. On top of having to make the decision of what to keep, we also had to figure out if the item was coming with us to Alaska or if it would be staying in our small storage unit in Lake Tahoe. Should I take my high heels to Alaska? Do they even wear heels there? And what about that gravy boat. Shouldn’t it be part of my kitchen collection? Needless to say, it was a slow, pain-staking process that left us with a very large pile of Alaska-bound boxes.

Poor Matt, he had the tough job of trying to fit everything into a 7x14 enclosed trailer, including all his tools and other gadgets that make him the MacGyver that he is. (You remember the guy...)

Matt kept saying to me,” Are you sure we have to keep this?”, “Space is limited”, “Alaska has stores, you know.” It all reminded me of the movie Spaceballs when the guy says, “Take only what you need to survive.” Hey, I was going to Alaska and survival was of the upmost concern.

And so the day finally came when the very last tidbit was literally stuffed into any open crevasse that could be found. It was a glorious day for us to be done with the packing and loading phase, but Matt now faced another daunting challenge: Driving 3000 miles with a very full and very red-neck looking vessel. Watch out Alaska, the Clampetts are on their way!

Matt spent six days driving North, all the while cursing his heavy load. Although he did encounter some problems, his MacGyver skills saved the day and he arrived safely in our new state of residence.  Once the girls and I arrived, the Clampett-mobile made the long journey out to McCarthy and oh what I sight we were! “They really are crazy!” seemed to be the general consensus, but crazy seems to fit in well with McCarthy so we knew we’d be ok. 

Slowly but surely we began the arduous task of getting all our stuff to fit into our lovely lil’ cabin. Matt’s job was to organize his tool shed and mine was to make sure our new home didn’t look like we were hoarders. It’s amazing what I thought I needed to bring with me and what could have stayed behind (sshh don’t tell Matt!). There’s comfort in familiarity and I guess I just needed those extra boxes of stuff to get me through the transition. Now I’m living a much simpler life and can see that, in the end, the stuff we think we need (and therefore travels with us 3000 miles) is oftentimes just a space filler. It's liberating to let go and move forward with less spaces to fill. So long gravy boat! 

As you ponder those space-fillers, here's another take on "stuff." Enjoy! 

  

Coming Home

I distinctly remember flying into anchorage and being overcome by a feeling of “Wow, I’m home.” The feeling took me by surprise, especially since, at the time, Alaska was my nemesis. I was in grad school and Matt and I were going through a rough patch - I big rough patch actually – and I was flying in to see him. We were living two separate lives, with him pursuing his love of all things wild and outdoorsy while I was in the big city engrossed in school. We were both happy and excited about what we were working towards, but they were individual pursuits that came at the expense of our marriage. I saw Alaska as “the other woman” and wanted, very badly, to hate it. But there I was, looking out that airplane window and loving everything I was seeing.

Matt and I worked through those hard times and, thankfully, came out of it stronger than ever. We were both changed, however, and Alaska was still very much part of our lives. My love/hate relationship with Alaska continued as Matt and I attempted to navigate living in two states. We loved many things about California but there was something about Alaska that called to us, and we continued trying to make the dual-state life work. When Riley came along, we continued to ask ourselves if Alaska was worth all the trouble and the answer was a subtle “yes.” Of course, we considered Alaska full-time, but I was always adamant about maintaining our California residency. I was not ready to let go of a life that was, and is, safe and familiar - an anchor of sorts.

Well it seems that the anchor has lifted and Matt and I are embarking on an experimental adventure. After MUCH consideration, we have decided to move our lil’ family up to the great white North and give Alaska our all. I say experimental because we’ve never been up there during the winter months and who knows how we’ll like it. The well-known dark and cold might be too much for us Golden State sun-lovers and then we’ll call Alaska quits. But you never know until you try, and so try we must. The lure of wild and raw is too strong to ignore and we’d hate to have regrets down the line.

Our house was officially sold yesterday and, although it was sad to say goodbye to it, the memories made there will stay with us thanks to my trusty camera. We certainly had some ______(fill in the blank) times there over the past 11 years! But in the end, it was just a house filled with stuff, and the “home” I felt I was giving up surrounds me as I type this… the squeals of toddler laughter; the hungry cries of a healthy infant; the love, respect, and adoration I share with my best friend and husband.

We know that Alaska is a far-away place that many of our friends and family may not see, but our hope is that some of you may be lured up for a visit. I must warn you though, Alaska has a tendency to grab on to unsuspecting individuals and steal their heart away.

"Where thou art, thou is home" ~ Emily Dickinson