Thanks, Patti (and Ray) for the photo!
We moved from Ohio to Southern California in August of 2008, arriving at our new apartment complex in a rented white Ford SUV, with pink and a purple Barbie bikes strapped securely to the roof. While we were unpacking the meager belongings that made the first cut, the Beasties were shyly making friends with their new neighbors, Yesenia, Noemi, and Vanessa, who were hovering around, having been told new kids were moving in. I was grateful to the three Sanchez sisters who took my girls away for hours at a time and make them completely oblivious to our state of depressing, albeit temporary, destitution.
While they were climbing the hills and running down the sidewalks in ever growing crowds, I lacked the necessary anchor. I followed my routine, walking downhill and across the street, making really good time through the parking garage, and speeding up through the mall, trying to avoid the smells and sights of the forbidden goods, feeling stronger with my 99 cent sunglasses covering half of my face. Coming back from work, I walked the same path, this time up the hill, weaving between BMWs and Lexuses, hiding the stains on my shirt clutching my purse against it, counting the steps as I tiredly put one foot in front of another, relieved only once I reached our front door.
Even if my friends were not so far away, I would not have reached out to them, afraid they would detect a faint note of desperation in my make-believe voice colored the brightest hue of California sky. I carried my daily burden with stoic resignation, unable to shrug it off, my aching body finding relief only when I curled up on the couch after a hot shower, laptop resting on my thighs, a cocktail within easy reach.
The sugar-plum visions of our previous life danced behind my closed eyelids: plump tomatoes from my August garden, hand-in-hand morning walks with Husband through our subdivision, the sparkling wake a family of ducks left in the lake, two pairs of pink ballet shoes, the immaculate ebony shine of a car in the garage, a color wheel of paint samples on top of the shelf, silly jello shots at the neighborhood Clam Bake party, a telephone number of a trendy restaurant scribbled on a post-it note and affixed to the desk, an un-opened 100 CD pack behind the computer, an Amazon box just freed from several books fresh off the printing press, a gift certificate for a much needed facial…
I moved the cruel traspassers away in a blink or two, calling forth the images of the Beasties with their scratched knees and sunburned cheeks, their English slowly absorbing the melodic and highly exaggerated drama of Mexican Spanish. I dispersed the ghosts of the summers past Skyping with the College Kritter, satisfied in the knowledge that she was making friends at Berkeley and slowly weaving the ties that would keep her afloat for the rest of her life.
Husband and I found ourselves painfully alone, and while he endured, used to solitude, I suffered, going back and forth from the tiny apartment to mindless work, unable to find someone to call a friend. In silent desperation I kept on writing, spilling my sentiments into a faceless Word document, baring my soul to an invisible friend.
I reached out into the vast expanse surrounding me, and slowly, some amazing people emerged offering the gifts of their friendship smile by smile, and word by word. All of a sudden the hills became less steep, and my steps gained a vigor that I thought had disappeared forever. I felt energized and immune to the poisonous darts of malice, stupidity, and ignorance that used to make me cry for hours at night. My shoulders straightened, my eyes glistened once again, and I started to feel tiny roots taking hold, binding me to the arid hills and rosemary bushes of Southern California.
I spent the last weekend in the San Gabriel Mountains, just on the other side of Big Bear where the Technicolor blue sky meets majestic peaks enveloped in snow. I would have been happy gazing at the blue expanse through the pine branches alone, breathing in the crisp and sharp mountain air, listening to the gurgling of streams and feeling the strain in my leg muscles as I climbed yet another hill covered with pine needles.
But I was not alone. I shared this beautiful spot with more than 90 fellow food bloggers attending , a brainchild of our own Patti Londre (and yes, I am calling this beautiful piece of Californian real estate mine!) who orchestrated every little detail perfectly, blaming her inner Virgo for making her stay focused and organized. Yes, some girls had to sleep on upper bunks (do not get me started on the VIP treatment of our five token boys!), the beds squeaked, we had to leave the water in the sinks dripping to avoid freezing, and they warned us that there are real bears roaming the property. But this was the best all-inclusive vacation I have had in a long time.
What was included? Clumsy and not so clumsy attempts at making fondant roses; marketing table displays that challenged each one of us to come up with the theme that represented us the best; wine tasting by Wente vineyards that continued barely interrupted throughout the weekend; cutting tiny parallel slits into some gorgeous Idaho potatoes with a really sharp Cutco knife we got to keep; standing in line waiting for meals and gabbing happily to people in front and behind; leaning back on the couch by the fire, browsing through a pile of cooking magazines, ripping the best ones without feeling guilty; tasting refreshing and tangy watermelon limeade that could have been improved only by a shot of Patrón; getting up at 6:30 to make it to the walk around Jenks Lake, cutting through the forested hills and standing in awe at the indomitable beauty of the calm sparkling surface of the mountain lake, surrounded by silence, interrupted only by pebbles that rolled under our feet; uncontrollable giggling while making our way to the cabin, warmed by pinot noir, our cheeks hot from the fireplace, reliving long-gone and carefree teenage days.
I had to curb my euphoria and sit still during the discussions. Curious and eager to learn, I devoured every word uttered by the panelists, from SEO and tips for increasing blog traffic, to a tutorial on making successful videos, to the solutions of dealing with time management and the stress induced by blogging, to forming lasting relationships in the community and staying true to your own style of writing, to opening up to the corporate and public relations worlds, to the ideas that lead toward succeeding in having your favorite photos accepted by the most coveted photography site.
Patti did not have to crack the whip to make me listen. I recognized the voice of reason and fought my own introverted and shy demons when I joined the Round Robin every time another meal was served, or another demonstration scheduled. She wanted us to mingle, and we mingled. She forced us to talk to strangers, and we discovered that most of the strangers are genuinely warm, nice, and sincere people, eager to open up and share their lives and experiences. There wasn’t one of us who did not lament the lack of time and wished for another couple of hours devoted to forming friendships. We laughed, we giggled, we screeched, and we cried.
We recognized our similarities and praised the differences. We shared, learned, discussed, and questioned every aspect of our blogging lives. And as the afternoon on Sunday approached, we said our hasty goodbyes, hugged each other, waved through the car windows, and promised to keep in touch. The weekend was magnificent. The farewells were emotional, with a tear or two hidden between the smiles.
As we were driving down the mountain, the reality was slowly coming toward the horizon. The routine was looming in all its ugliness, but life all of a sudden had a different meaning. I have found again the tie that keeps me afloat. And no matter how many hills I have to climb and descend, I know that I can do it, propped by the smiles and kind words of my friends.
Several other campers have written about our little retreat (some of them have even taken photographs, while my camera sat behind my bed all the time, rightly feeling ignored and forgotten:
Satisfied (I so wanted that title, but Louise was faster!)
Sippity Sup – the best video, Greg!
Lana, what a wonderful post. So glad you were a part of Camp Blogaway, you contributed throughout the weekend and I sensed that it was working well for you. See you again soon.
Lovely post! I can always tell when there’s a bonafide writer behind the blog. It was wonderful meeting you, and perhaps we’ll be able to reconnect again very soon.
Your writing is absolutely gorgeous:
“The sugar-plum visions of our previous life danced behind my closed eyelids…”
“In silent desperation I kept on writing, spilling my sentiments into a faceless Word document, baring my soul to an invisible friend…”
“I have found again the tie that keeps me afloat. And no matter how many hills I have to climb and descend, I know that I can do it, propped by the smiles and kind words of my friends.”
Tell Patti you want to lead a writing panel next year, please.
cheryl recently posted..
lana, your writing is truly a gift. what beautiful story telling this is. i can see it – bikes and all. it was a great weekend, wasn’t it… sigh
I was thinking of you there and wishing I could join! So cool that you got to meet Cheryl – I’m a big fan of hers.
Sasa recently posted..
Lana, what a gift YOU are to this planet. Lovely post and your heart is in everything you do. I had a great time at Camp, also – and always love being around you.
It was a wonderful weekend indeed, for all of us. Glad you were there, glad we had time to talk, glad you’re nearby so I won’t have to wait until next year to see you again!
Erika recently posted..
This is such a beautiful post, Lana! You really spoke to my own experience of moving to California. We never really had time together at camp, but I’m so happy that I can read your beautiful blog until we meet next time.
Stacy (Little Blue Hen) recently posted..
Moved by your writing; you’ve woven so many ingredients into this fine essay. I will be following you blog so I can catch up on your story and keep up from now on.
[...] Bibberche – Buck Up Li’l Camper [...]
Lana – such a heartfelt and genuine post. It has been so nice to get to know you and thank you for entertaining by 1,000,000 questions on the car ride back. I look forward to getting to you know more and glad that we can be part of your escape from the everyday “grind”. Take care!! xoxo
Lana, what a beautifully written post! I look forward to meeting you at the next Camp Blogaway day camp!
I may be one of the 5 token boys but your beautiful prose has me crying like a little girl. GREG
@Patti, thanks again for organizing Camp Blogaway! I have so much to learn from you:) Looking forward to seeing you soon:)
@Laura, thanks for your comment:) The time was so short to have deeper conversations, but we are close – there should not be a problem for us connecting!
@Cheryl, your comment left me speechless:) Thanks, you made my day!
@Louise, I’d love to put all these sad posts in one big, thick folder named “This was before…”
I am so looking forward to “NOW”:) Yes, I sigh , too!
@Sasa, one of these days we can be at a conference together:) I have too much going on between now and summer (going to Serbia for a month!) – otherwise I’d jump on the plane in June to see you in SF. And, yes, I love Cheryl’s blog!
@Cathy, I had to cry a bit after reading your comment. It means a world to me. Cannot wait to spend some more time with you – it is very doable, we are practically neighbors!
@Erika, I fell the same! But this proximity is dangerous, because I always take time with you guys for granted! And there are so many questions I need to ask you:)
@Stacy, thanks:) I guess we have more in common than living in paradise:) I would love to get together and make up for the lost opportunity at Camp – there just wasn’t enough time to meet all the lovely people!
@Nancy, this means a lot coming from you! Thanks, you brightened my day!
@Quyen, you are so sweet, even though your curiosity could be your demise (remember the cat? Just kidding:) I just hope I can reverse the roles the next time!
@Jean, thanks! I would love to meet you! Already looking forward to it!
@Oh, Greg, you always say the right thing at the right time:)
Lana recently posted..
Lana, This camp sounds like an amazing experience. I will have to look to see if there is something like this on the East Coast.
Also, I’ve tagged you over at my blog for a game of food tag, if you care to play!
Betsy recently posted..Care to Play Some Food Tag
hello my co-proud mom! so you just came from a camp hidden in the hills huh? No wonder you I haven’t heard from you since, because you were having so much fun! Hmmp I’m jealous hahaha! Oh well enough of my drama… but yeah I’m so happy that you attended the camp bloaway. I would have loved to attend had I pushed for it or had I known that you were going. Maybe next year or maybe when you hear something similar to this please let me know.
Love love love your post. You have the gift! The writing is just superb. It made me think of my own as I felt the same way when we moved from Fl to SD 4 years ago. But we bloom wherever we are planted… and I’m glad to see that you have bloomed into a beautiful one.
Enjoy the rest of the week.
xo,
Malou
How beautifully written Lana– I always love reading your posts
I can so relate to that feeling of starting over/loneliness and finding strength to move onwards… ah keep writing (and I’ll keep reading)!
Karen from Globetrotter Diaries recently posted..
Lana it was FANTASTIC meeting you this past weekend, and I just loved reading this post. So heartfelt and really conveyed your genuine feelings!!! It can be so hard to move to a new place, and props to you for being brave enough to do it and then also to share your experiences with us.
The Cilantropist recently posted..Rosemary Rice Krispie Treats- and a Weekend at Camp
So great meeting you last weekend! I look forward to following your blog and learning more about you!
Lana, I am so glad we met! It was great getting to know you and I look forward to seeing you again….next week!!!!
Fantastic post. You really captured it all!
Lana, your words are always poetic, always touching, always heartfelt. Sounds like a lot of fun at Camp Blogaway–you would have been at the top of my list to meet. Maybe one day.
Jean (Lemons and Anchovies) recently posted..Fish Tacos with Mango-Tomatillo Salsa and Homemade Corn Tortillas