Awhile ago I got the idea of
justifying Starbucks mug purchases telling my life story via Starbucks mugs. Mugs from the "you are here" series started popping up on Instagram and it is probably one of my favorite series.
Be prepared for some literary license. It turns out that some states don't have "state" mugs, only cities. And at least one state, crucial to my life story, doesn't have a mug at all!
I was born in Los Angeles, in a little town called Maywood, to be exact. In doing some research when writing this, it turns out that Maywood is a small city in southeast Los Angeles County, and at 1.18 square miles, it is the third-smallest
incorporated city in Los Angeles County.
At some point when I was very small, my parents packed up everything and moved to Chicago. I think my father planned on going to school. Things didn't work out, apparently I cried
all the time, and so after about six weeks they packed up everything and moved back to California.
My father was a pastor of a church in Downey, also in the Los Angeles area, and we were there until I was about three. At that point, we moved to Oklahoma, where my father became the pastor of a larger church. We lived in Enid for seven years, until I completed fourth grade. I have great memories of Oklahoma and the house we lived in. My brother, Jeff, was adopted when he was ten days old, and came to live with us on July 4, when I was about 6 1/2 years old.
(Note to Starbucks: There are people living in Oklahoma who drink coffee. Design a mug for them!! Because seven years is a big chunk of my life, I am using a logo from Sew Oklahoma. Contact this designer. Oklahoma needs a mug!)
After fourth grade, we moved to Phoenix. I don't have fond memories. I apologize if you are one of those people who love the sun and the heat. I'm not one of you. While I enjoyed school, I hated the heat.
After my sophomore year in high school, we moved to Seattle. Total bliss. All those wonderful grey and drizzly days. I was totally in my element. Climate-wise at least. Changing schools right before my junior year in high school was a hard transition for me. Funny story about my high school, Shoreline. It is not a school anymore--it is a retirement center.
After being in a graduating class of over 700 students, I wanted to attend a really small college. Our church denomination had just the college I was looking for, Tabor College in Hillsboro, Kansas (our son, Aaron, graduated from its sister school here in Fresno, Fresno Pacific University).
I was much more comfortable in a smaller setting. I met the love of my life, Mark. He was from Minnesota and was recruited to play football for Tabor.
We got married (in Seattle) after he graduated, and then settled down in western Kansas for five years while he taught school. At that point, I was pregnant, we were tired of the non-stop wind of western Kansas and Mark was ready to try something besides teaching. My parents had moved to Fresno the year before, so we made the decision to move there as well.
In the meantime, my brother had grown up, gotten his master's degree in economics, married and moved to Dallas.
He went to work right away for the federal reserve and was there until last fall, when he got a different job for the federal reserve in Washington, D.C. We can hardly wait to go there for a visit.
Aaron was born in Fresno, and after graduating from college and getting married, he and Christa moved to Portland for five years while he went to optometry school. What a beautiful city. I think if they had stayed there, we would have found a way to move there as well.
Instead, once he was ready to start his career as an optometrist, they moved back to Fresno, and live a mile away. We are so happy about that, because we love having them and our grandchildren so nearby.
So there you have it. The places I've lived, at least most of them,
and friends who have also contributed to my little collection.
If you have followed Really Random Thursday, you know I like a good quote. I saw this one at lunch today.
Your turn.