It was exactly a year ago, on my 80th birthday party, Margaret and I announced our intention to move to Port Townsend, WA, to be close to Elizabeth, one of our daughters. Twelve weeks later, we drove out of the town we’d lived for 55 years and where we’d raised two daughters. The day we started our journey north it was 106 degrees in San Jose.
Port Townsend is a small artist town of about 10,000 people. We are about 30 minutes by ferry to Vancouver, Canada. My family was going to give me an 81st birthday in Vancouver except for the “stay at home’ restriction. We are in what is known as the “banana belt” so our rainfall is only 4 inches more than San Jose. It only snowed for two days this last winter. The average summer temperature is 85 degrees.
Margaret and I were slowly getting involved with many of the local groups. She was into recorders, harps, weavings, sewing and knitting groups; and I was getting into some of the non-profits, such as the local Food Bank, etc. Then the Pandemic hit. Now she is spending most of her time making masks. Last week the concentration was making children’s mask in preparation of opening the schools after the summer holidays. I am lucky because the Food Bank is considered an essential operation — so we are busier than before. They protect me because of my age and make me work in the background in “prep” with very little contact with the public. That is perfect for me because I am never a talker anyway.
I hope all of you are well. If you are ever coming to this part of the Northwest, give me a shout. Here are my email and address: firstname.lastname@example.org or 915 M Street, Port Townsend, WA 98368.