Summer lovin' happened so fast

So, it takes quite a leap of faith to seriously consider moving somewhere so far away and that we've only visited once. I mean, it has been several years ago now that we went in the first place... and what about all the unknowns?  Like the hard winters, for instance. We've only seen Door County with it's loveliest summer foot forward. We've only looked at it through the carefree lens of happy tourists. Is this place the geographical equivalent of a convenient summer romance? Does it have what it takes to make a real go of it when the beach blankets are all packed away and the sand has long since been shaken from our toes?  Is this the kind of place that could sustain a family? Are the schools any good? Is there even a hospital? Maybe it was high time we took a second look...

A couple weeks ago, on the heels of another depressing spell of fruitless job hunting and relentless angst, we threw our bags in the 'ol van and headed north. We were probably crazy for not pinching our dwindling pennies instead, but this just had to be done.  And I am SO glad we did!  Have you heard the term perspectacles? It's a silly word mash-up that basically illustrates the act of looking at something with a healthy, realistic perspective.  The opposite of rose-colored glasses.  Well we put on our perspectacles and began to explore the county.

Not only did we spend 4 days combing through the details of what it would take to move there, we took an honest look at the year-round life of a resident in Door County.  We met with a real estate agent to get the scoop on the local rental market.  We grilled the sweet ladies at the local visitor's bureau about schools and surviving the winter and finding jobs.  We asked just about every local we could awkwardly approach if they knew of working conditions, year-round sustainability, and the cost of living.  We located every school on the peninsula, and we checked out their websites and calendars.  We found the hospital, the Target, and the hardware store.  We found the movie theater, the fire department, and the place you go to get your car registered.  We tried out a favorite pub for locals, and we encouraged our boys to mingle with the local kids at a community concert in the park.  We took a genuine long look at what it would be like when 6 feet of snow hushed the landscape and slowed the pace of this vibrant tourist area.  We found the places we felt good about living, and we ruled out places that just didn't suit our family.  We checked out the local music scene - a very important component for Husband and his dream of being an active musician again. We looked up demographics, crime statistics, climate information, and growing zones. We even took a few hours to revisit some of our favorite tourist spots.

Do you know what the big take-away was from our whirlwind scouting mission?  In a word, encouragement!  It would be a wonderful place to raise our sons.  It would be a beautiful place to enjoy a rich quality of life.  There is a job market outside of just the tourist industry.  There is a wonderfully low cost of living.  There is no reason we couldn't head there tomorrow and try to make a go of it.  The question is now, do we have the guts to pull the trigger?  Do we dare?

Wisconsin!

Welcome to my weird mind.  A few years ago completely out of the blue I had a dream we were visiting lighthouses and enjoying a beautiful seaside retreat.  But we weren't by the ocean, we were in Wisconsin of all places.  When I woke I was trying to figure out why on earth I was dreaming about lighthouses in Wisconsin.  I seemed to vaguely remember hearing once that there was a county in the Midwest that had more continuous coastline and more lighthouses than any other county in America, so  I quickly did what anyone in this information age would do.  I googled the heck out of every word combination I could think of until I found it.  There it was!  Door County, Wisconsin - also known as the "Cape Cod of the Midwest."  Now I'm not saying I had some premonition.  I'm not even saying that the place in my dreams was an exact match to the place I was looking at on the screen.  But I was very intrigued... enough to convince Husband that we needed to vacation there that summer.  I immediately started planning, and a few months later we went.

Door County did not disappoint.  What we had stumbled upon was a veritable treasure trove!  Our vacation was so much fun, and more than that, it was eye opening.  Here was this amazing place that I had never even known existed, but with every minute we spent there it got under my skin and into my heart.  Let me attempt to paint you a picture of what we discovered.

The summer weather is nothing short of glorious with its cool evenings and breezy, warm days.   It is simultaneously full of adventure and completely serene.  It has that dreamy costal feeling but also a familiar rural lull.  With art galleries galore and a vibrant theater and music scene it feels cultured and relevant.  I can see why artists have always escaped to Door County for inspiration.  Over 300 miles of shoreline is dotted with historical lighthouses, sleepy boat docks speckled with white adirondack chairs, bustling marinas full of sailboats and yachts, luxurious beach resorts, and nostalgic family lake cabins.  An abundance of wineries, antique shops, and cherry orchards are overflowing with charm.  If you're looking for sport, you can enjoy golfing, kayaking, sailing, hiking, camping, and fishing.  But drive a few miles and you'll find villages brimming with museums, boutique shops, and eateries.  There are dairy farms, barn quilts, corn fields, and cheese shops.  There are draw bridges, ship yards, and tug boats.  On any given day you will find a dozen different festivals or events happening around the county.  And all this is only the summer bustle!  As the days grow shorter and summer slips into fall, leaf peepers come from far and wide to experience the explosion of color that blankets the peninsula and the harvest celebrations that excite the sleepy coastal towns.  Winter is nothing short of a Currier and Ives painting, with Christmas as its crowning achievement... I mean, if you're into that sort of thing :0)  Meanwhile the outdoorsman might prefer some exhilarating snowshoeing, cross country skiing, ice fishing or snowmobiling.  The coastline of the Mighty Lake Michigan becomes a frozen sculpture of jagged, icy rock formations.   Spring is admittedly a bit of a wrestling match between the summer's thaw and winter's icy grip.  But just when you'd least expect it, the tulips and daffodils and cool weather grasses start to overtake the peninsula with color and promise of warm days ahead.  Signaling the summer's approach are the cherry blossoms like clouds of pinkish-white billowing across the county.  It is some kind of heaven.

I could sit here and explain everything in one post, but instead of penning a novel I've decided that I will use a series of future blog posts to illustrate to my friends and family all the things we love about Door County.  In no particular order.

I have a confession

So, I have a confession.  This is not the first time we've dared to dream big.  Not even close.  But as it turns out, we are the world's worst escape artists.

Let's see, first we considered Boulder, Colorado.  This was 12 years ago, and I was 6 months pregnant with our first son. We drove 10 hours, through the night mind you, to scout it out and look for jobs and apartments.  We were invited to move with a church plant group, and on paper the whole situation was so full of promise and beauty and great intentions.  However, I don't think we have ever been more relieved than when we came home and decided that we were not going to be part of the church plant.  I've heard Boulder described as a seductive woman who lures you in with her beauty, like a siren's call.   There is no doubt it is a gorgeous city, but the move was just not right deep down in our bones.

A few years later we were antsy again and back on the hunt for a great escape.  We decided since we loved college towns that we would start narrowing down those that held some promise and were relatively nearby.  We left our two kids with a dear family friend and headed to Fayetteville, Arkansas.  It hit all the marks of our desired criteria, so we planned an over-nighter.  Ha!  It took 4 hours to drive there and exactly 3 hours to look around.  We turned right around and drove home.  We cancelled the hotel room, called the sitter, and headed back to Oklahoma.  Needless to say, Fayetteville was not for us.

Next it was jolly ol' England.  Ah, the mother country!  Unfortunately this great idea was not accompanied by a scouting trip.  This feeble attempt at escape came in the form of my going through the ridiculously lengthy process of applying for a Department of Defense teaching job.  You see, I lived in England for 3 years as a kid while our family was stationed at Lakenheath AFB.  It was my home, it was where my best memories of childhood were formed.  I big puffy heart LOVED England and was so sad when we moved back stateside.  It got in my blood, I caught the full blown infection.  No, I'm not talking about mad cow disease! I'm talking about my deep rooted desire for something grand, for history, for beauty, for majesty, for scenery, for travel.  I had myself totally psyched up to hop the Atlantic and start living the dream, but sadly my return just wasn't meant to be. That dream died a pitiful, unceremonious death when they didn't even bother to call.  Not a "No thank you" or a "not right now." Just crickets.  So disappointing.  I did, however, get a call from a school in Japan... so I guess that's something.

Fast forward a few years and it was on to Portsmouth, New Hampshire.  I found an article online about beautiful Portsmouth, and I promptly fell madly in love.  It's not England, but it's New England... and that ain't so shabby.  The whole area is brimming with history, and don't even get me started on the beauty.  The tiny strip of New Hampshire coastline is nestled between some of the most amazing scenery Maine and Massachusetts has to offer.  With our 3 sons left in capable hands, Husband and I hopped on a plane and headed East.  We spent 5 glorious days exploring and falling deeper in love with New England.  We oohed, we ahhed, we ate and ate and ate.  Oh the seafood!  It was the closest we had ever come to actually pulling the trigger on one of our scouting missions.  We even went back for a second look just a few months later with the kids and my parents in tow.  We wanted so badly for it to work out, but in the end, it was just way too expensive.  The harsh reality of a musician and a teacher/photographer trying to make ends meet in New England is bleak.  It has a name, it's called welfare.

That brings us to our current escape plan, but I'll save that saga for another day.  I'll just leave it with this.  Husband and I have spent the better part of our 15 year marriage dreaming and scheming and trying to cut loose from where we are. We have yet to grow content with our surroundings.  I wonder if maybe our expectations for life are just too high... but then again, maybe not.  Maybe there is some validity to heeding our hearts' cry.  It sure is starting to wail, and that has to mean something.  Right?

Do we dare?

I'm a freelance photographer.  I run my business by myself, and I am also a stay-at-home mom and housewife/homemaker extraordinaire.  I'm a dreamer on a leash.  And by leash I mean a safety net, really.  I like to think I took a big risk being a photographer, but really I just followed my interests right into this amazing job.  I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my adoring husband, the man who didn't shoot me 8 years ago when I said I wanted to stay home with our children and take portraits as an experimental side gig.  I offer a gigantic thanks to the man who brought home most of the bacon and worked crap hours for years while I followed my heart.  And you know the best part?  It was his heart for me as well.  He never discouraged me, not once.  I know he wished I would have gotten some great corporate salary, but he has never once made me feel like I shouldn't follow where I was being lead.  Husband is a keeper, a cranky butt at times, but definitely a keeper.

This "Do We Dare" situation really kicked into overdrive when Husband lost his job a few months ago.  We had dreamed of him one day walking in and dropping the big sayonara bomb on his boss, but we were not quite at that place you have to be in to nose dive off a cliff.  What do they call that place again?  Oh yeah... CRAZYTOWN!  So when he walked in one morning and was escorted right back out and given his marching orders, things got real.  Somehow it was both liberating and crushing.  You understand me, I know you do.  If you've ever felt imprisoned in a job because of financial responsibilities but would give life and limb to break out of that prison cell, then you absolutely understand what I mean.  I can tell you though, it didn't take long for that escape he longed for, the one that would allow him the chance to go a different direction in life, to feel more like a pair of concrete galoshes than a helium balloon.  

Once our heart rates slowed back down and our ears stopped ringing from the adrenaline rush that can only come from such a glancing blow, we looked at our bank account and panicked all over again.  

Buy the big house, they said.  It will be so worth it, they said.  You can grow into it and live there forever, they said.  Yeah, well they never said maybe we shouldn't spend up to our last dime doing renovations and making the big house into the dream house.  Yikes, most of our savings had morphed into equity.  And you know, that's all well and good until you try to chisel off a few bricks and send them to the electric company.  And the bank, well it doesn't want them either.  It already owns most of those bricks in the first place... 

The months that followed were a blur of fears and tears.  We sold our "forever home" so quickly our hearts couldn't even catch up with our heads.  We had something like 8 showings lined up before our house even listed on MLS.  Thanks in part to the fact it was the best freaking house/yard on the planet and also in part to Mariah the Rockstar Realtor, the Goddess of Social Media Marketing.  We picked our jaws up off the title company floor and were hanging pictures in the rent house before the ink was even dry on our closing papers.  This was heartbreak of epic proportions.  Our house, and more importantly our yard, was our happy place.  I could just wring the necks of the people now living in my house... if for no other reason than pure unadulterated jealousy.  I have uttered many prayers trying to right this wrong in my heart.  

Husband looked for work. He searched high and low, here and there and everywhere.  He even managed to find a couple temporary gigs while we waited for the right permanent job to present itself... as if that's how it happens.  Like it just jumps out and presents itself.  A great job is just about the most elusive creature in existence.  There's the location and the type of work... there's the hours, the work environment, the qualifications, the benefits, and of course the Almighty Salary.  With resumes and cover letters coming out our ears, we were beginning to wonder how on earth anyone ever finds a great, fitting job.  Oh yeah, for starters you don't get a music degree!  Alas that ship had long ago sailed, and there is no use crying over that student loan payment every month.

Do we move back to our college town?  Do we revisit the past and try to mold it back into a future? Do we sit here in Norman, a place we really like but has managed to produce very few soul ties in the 6.5 years we've lived here?  Do we move to the tiny town in Kansas where my ailing grandparents live, maybe lend a hand?  Do we move into my parents' house in my "hometown" and mooch off of their generosity?  My photography business is the last string left that is truly tying us to this place, but without our beloved "forever home" is Oklahoma still our forever home? 

It couldn't be all that surprising that just about the time my big-hearted generous big brother threw us a bone and offered Husband a third temporary job (because the first two were so mind-numbingly awful he quit them both in no time flat), we decided to take a serious look at some other long-term options.  Scary options.  Life choices.  Heart's desires. Crazy dreams.  Some great big ol' Do-We-Dares...

Sitting pretty... yeah... pretty freaking crazy!

Here I sit, half scared out of my mind and half so excited I can't sleep.  I won't get into all the specifics on this first post, but the tall and the short of it comes down to one little question: Do we dare?

Do we have what it takes to go somewhere different, start something new, strike out on a crazy adventure that makes our breath catch, our hands tremble, and our knees knock together?

Do we have the cojones to re-establish ourselves in a foreign land?  Okay, maybe not a foreign land... maybe it's just Wisconsin... but it might as well be the freaking moon!

Do we dare forge a totally different future for ourselves at 38 and 35 years old?  Right when our contemporaries are putting braces on their kids, upgrading to the car with all the options,  digging that in-ground pool they've been dreaming about, padding their retirement accounts, raking in the big bonuses, striving for that senior position at work... do we dare throw caution to the wind and start completely over?