I am quite certain that I have experienced a collapse in the Space-Time continuum. Though I can look at the calendar and know that it is the middle of December, I am sure that yesterday was the beginning of November and the day before that was June 10. Somehow in the course of two days, six months have passed. I have memories of intervening days, but I am missing that sense of the passage of time.

I remember in third grade having the reverse experience. Every day was an agonizing eternity, a prison sentence without end. There could not have been a slower year in all of geologic and recorded history. I would stare at the calendar and wonder how it was possible for the shortest month of the year to take so long to progress. I marveled that grass grew more quickly than the hour hand on the clocks in our classrooms.

So here we are at the end of 2008, a year that feels only a week old. That list of things I set out to accomplish at the beginning of the year sits dusty and unloved, its hopeful optimism suffocating under a pile of other more urgent activities. Start exercise routine, create a will,

finish the book I started 2 years ago, repair the deck, update the website, learn to play the guitar, become fluent in Spanish and Italian, travel to Ireland, go Scuba Diving in Belize, wash the car, call my grandparents…

Now with two weeks left in the year I have a mad scramble to accomplish all that I have not done in this year. It’s impossible, I know that. But it seems inadequate to simply push it off until next year. What will keep this next year from going even more quickly? My car really does need a wash.

It’s a question for another time.

What has happened to the year? To start things out, I moved to Lincoln City in January starting a new job as the Executive Director of the Sitka Center for Art and Ecology. If there is a root cause for time’s acceleration, this may

be it. The sheer density of the Sitka Center causes a gravitational pull that distorts time and blurs perception. The place is uncompromising in its beauty and unforgiving in the hold it takes on your soul. Once you see it, you want to be part of it. It’s like a perfect pearl that dazzles you with a promised hint of magnificence and then leaves you hungry for more. I am smitten yes.

But the enchantment I found at Sitka in the Spring carried a cost. Elsa remained in Happy Valley to finish out her school year. Though we saw each other every weekend, it was poignant reminder that we chose each other for a reason, we like being together and even living apart for four days a week was too long. We swore we would not do it again.

In June, with school finished, Elsa and I moved to a house that Elsa’s parents purchased in Lincoln City. They in turn sold their Vancouver home of 30 years and moved into our Happy Valley Home. This clever swap, allowed Elsa’s parents to invest in their retirement beach cottage on the coast while we held onto our lovely mountain villa in Happy Valley. On holidays we switch, giving us access to the city and them a place to stay at the beach.

Elsa and three of her friends traveled for two weeks in Italy over the summer, soaking up the food and sites of Rome, Siena, Florence, and Cinque Terre. When she returned to Lincoln City she had a week of rest before heading off to work at the Lincoln County School District. Initially she was assigned to an elementary school in Newport, 40 minutes to the South,

but two weeks before classes began, she was switched to Ocean Lake elementary, one mile from our house.  With an experienced new principal at the helm, she is pleased to have found a school that seems to fully appreciate her experience and talents as a special education teacher. (and the commute is hard to beat!)

Living in Lincoln City carries a few adjustments.

It’s not hard to get used to walking on the beach with the dogs on Sunday Morning. The summer fog and cool ocean breezes do require some apparel additions. We miss our hip and groovy grocery store in Happy Valley with its wine steward and organic vegetables. Traffic is lovely on the off season, but in high tourist times of summer, the lines of cars heading to and from the coast are just as slow as the typical Portland rush hour commute. On the whole, we are happy with our new lives and the adventures of whale watching on weekends.

There is more to the year than that. Three hundred and sixty five days worth of laughter, tears and adventure summed up

into 800 words. It’s a poor substitute for the real thing, but perhaps better than having your toenail ripped out with a pair of pliers so at least we are moving in the right direction. Next year we might do the Seinfeld Newsletter. A newsletter about nothing, perfect in its simplicity. Timeless in its content. By next year, the year will be over tomorrow and I will be wondering what to do yesterday.


Happy 2009!

Love Eric and Elsa