COMMUNITY COMMENTARY: California dreamin’

Just go right ahead and call me a Pollyanna. If you’re looking for someone to whine about local politics or silly ordinances or zoning, then I’m not your girl. Then again, I’ve lived here now for exactly 90 days and I’m slap dab in the middle of the honeymoon phase. Is there a place for a writer who seems to be relishing every single inch of this place?
Maybe if I tell you how I got here.
In 2006, my husband and I visited Carlsbad while attending a business meeting. We had just flown in from Atlanta where the temperature was hovering around 99 degrees coupled with 150 percent humidity. Our arms and legs were decorated with fresh mosquito bites and we had just paid a $390 air conditioning bill. We landed in San Diego and stepped outside and decided right there and then on the airport curbside, we had to somehow get to this place. It felt like that scene in “The Wizard of Oz” when everything goes from black and white to Technicolor. The birds sang and the children laughed and people were actually walking around outside without a rag to wipe away the glow.
We found the Pelican Cove Inn and met our fabulous innkeeper Nancy. She confirmed our suspicions by telling us she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to live anywhere else. My husband is British, so she directs us to the local pub The British Store, and I see his eyes well up as we circle one of several round-a-bouts winding our way through Encinitas. Except for going in the wrong direction and the lack of drizzle, he felt right at home. We love this place!
“Let’s go home and sell our house!”
Flash-forward through multiple renovations and upgrades, brass turns into chrome, Formica converts to granite, white morphs into stainless and we wait. New landscaping and three realtors later, we are now approaching 2009!
Oh for a walk along the beach wall framing Carlsbad Boulevard. Oh for a cool, clear night filled with stars instead of bugs the size of birds. Oh for the aroma of ocean air and palms instead of pines.
On one especially humid day in June, when our outdoor thermometer read 128 degrees (granted, in direct sunlight, but still …) we tired of waiting and we decided to become landlords! We resigned two perfectly good jobs (in this economy?) and planned our venture west. We sold most everything on Craigslist, filled up a pod with the rest, packed our cars with trailmix, water bottles and dog food and we were off!
On Sept. 1, 2009, we drove out of our driveway with two overflowing cars and two rescue dogs Jack and Bailey heading west in tandem. We drove through rain and dust storms and even Hurricane Jimenez, but we arrived and kissed the ground on the afternoon of Sept. 5. So sappy, but I actually felt tears sliding down my cheeks as we crossed the California state line. Even happier when Homeland Security waived us through.
We did it! Against all odds and in the midst of a chorus of friends asking “Whaddya nuts?” we got here.
Carole at Purdy Homes helped us find our first residence in beautiful Aviara. Bill Purdy told us we could walk our dogs along the Batiquitos Lagoon. In the past 90 days, we have found a way to walk the seashore and/or lagoon nearly every day. We have become regulars at Cessy’s on Carlsbad Boulevard enjoying their fish tacos and burritos. Saving up for the past three years waiting for this time, we will most likely look for jobs (I know) when our feet are back on the ground.
So, will the honeymoon last? Will we find a downside to all this paradise? Will it turn out to be everything we hoped for? Will we tire of endless blue sky days and mountain views? Are May-gray and June-gloom really all that bad? Is it possible to take too many sunset photos? Will we learn how to be Chargers fans? Stay tuned …