When I Was Twenty One

It has been an interesting time here in Morotinos. I lived in a small pueblo like this in the state of Washington when I was 21. That actually was the title of a sweet song originally by Frank Sinatra,  "When I Was Tweny-One." The name of that pueblo or village was Olalla. It was outside of Port Orchard, which was outside of Bremerton and across the Puget Sound from Seattle. 

The village was a string of large parcels of land along a long narrow road. Each parcel had a house on it set back from the road. Each parcel was about 10 acres I think. On our side of the road, a creek ran through the back of each parcel, and the parcels all backed up to a forest. 

There was a small store/post office at the end of road about 10 miles down the road from our house, which was about 20 miles from a major road. We had a splendid view of Mount Rainier as we drove to the store. 

I was 21 with a new baby. We were hippies, my first husband and I. We had a vegetable garden which blessed our table and a pack of dogs that ran wild. They came home in the evening to be fed and slept under the house. 

The house was an old white farm house. The second story was built under the eaves and consisted of one bed room and another room with a sloped ceiling that was perfect for the baby's crib. The owner had just installed indoor plumbing before we moved into the house, but it still used a wood burning stove for heat. The stove in the kitchen ran on propane. 

There were berry bushes and apple trees and I made pies and canned fruit and vegetables. The year we lived there was the year of Woodstock, the original one. 

I think it was also the year of the Beatles White Album. 

We had atraveled to Washinton in a VW bus with the baby in a cardboard box bassinet and the dogs in the back. To this day, my daughter cringes in horror about the card board box. It seemed perfectly normal and natural at the time. 

Alas, the idyllic life ended after about 18 months and we moved back to Northern California where we lived in a garage. I'm not sure my daughter knows about that phase. I hope this doesn't evoke another series of, "I can't believe you . . ."

I'm not sure what prompted this trip or tripping down memory lane. Maybe it's the pueblo, maybe it's the dogs, maybe it's being in a place, once again, where a trip to the store is an event.  It was a good year then. And now that, as the song lyrics express, "the days are short, I'm in the autumn of my years," almost 50 years later. I have had a good life, and as the Japanese curse goes I have lived in interesting times. I don't think it was a curse though. I have no regrets. I love the person I have become, and that person is the result, the sum total of all the events of my life, all the things I did and didn't do, all the things that happened to me and for me. I have been blessed in so many ways. 

Most of all I have been incredibly fortunate to have found a spiritual way of life that works for me. As some say, "I have found a God I can do business with." I use the term God because it is convenient. I've believed for years that if I could describe or express in words what tha means, it would diminish the concept. 

This week I decided I would try using the words Amazing Grace or AG. It truly has been an amazing gift, this life, this spirit of mine. I am so incredibly grateful that our program was devinely inspired to allow us to find a God of our own understanding. 

Well this was awfully serious. It must have been the Wheatabix I ate for breakfast. I had never had Wheatabix before. It's rather like the taste of shredded wheat and the texture of a Nature Valley granola bar. Not bad at all. All sorts of new adventures for Nancy here in the pueblo, driving a stick shift for the first time in 45 year, ringing a church bell, walking 5 dogs at sunrise, feeding chickens, and living with two priests I feel a bit like I'm in an episode of Granchester.