Four years ago, at the end of May, I packed away my Texas life, put my two cats in the car and drove halfway across the country to start anew.  We arrived in Boston on June 4th, 2012.  Four years.  That’s an education!  A graduate degree in life!  And on this anniversary, as I look back over the last four years, I am undeniably feeling myself ready to graduate and move forward, wherever forward leads.  I certainly plan on staying in Boston, at least for now, but even staying in one place, things, they are a-changing.  I’m celebrating so much new in this last year of my twenties.  This website for one!  Along with new habits, new skills, new confidence, new clarity, new goals, new drive, a brand new tea kettle! It is a brave new world.  But of course, any new beginning stems from all that came before- so here’s me, reminiscing on just a very few of the highlights of my first four years in Boston.

THE DRIVE

That drive.  Man.  If you are plotting a big life change, I definitely recommend driving, not flying, from the old to the new.  That is a right of passage in and of itself.  Of course, on my drive, my mom did most of the actual driving.  My sweet little black kitty was so upset by the chaotic process of moving that when I tried to put him in his box to start the trip, he shied and bit and I spent the journey nursing a very swollen hand.  Thank goodness for my mom.  She’s the best.

But it really is something to see the country go by, and to feel, bit by bit, the changing of the culture.  The deep south and the deep north are still very different worlds today.  Despite the rocky start though (I made the mistake of telling the doctor that my wound was a bite, which led to a visit from animal control and me fearing I would have to leave Wee Thomas* behind.  Fortunately, they seemed to care less when they found out the possible rabies was heading out of the state, so the whole thing turned out alright in the end), the final leg of our journey was blessed by this stunning double rainbow, the best of omens of things to come.

GETTING TO KNOW BOSTON

Thanks to the generous loan of a friend’s apartment, my mom and I had the delicious luxury of most of June to explore Boston while I kept my eye out for my own apartment and a job.  Before moving, I had spent a grand total of 6 days in the Boston area, so this also served as a kind of test, to make sure I had made the right decision.  The verdict?  Indeed I had.  I fell truly, madly, deeply, head over heels in love with Boston that June.  We went to the Pops, we toured, and toured and toured, went on harbor sails, and a whale watch, ate cannoli and lobster claws, got to know the T and walked and walked and walked some more.  And in the course of all that touring I inadvertently stumbled on two jobs and what was to become my new career.

TOUR GUIDING

I have always loved walking tours.  I go on them whenever I travel.  I find them excellent ways of getting a lay of the land and some general knowledge before heading off on my own.  It wasn’t until I moved to Boston, however, that I even considered that one could do this sort of thing for a living.  And I wasn’t really planning on doing it for a living even at the beginning.  I thought it would be a good job to hold me over until I found something else.  Little did I know I would get hooked.  And here I still am, four years later, leading folks around Boston.  Funny how life works out sometimes.

Once again, I have my mom to thank for nudging me along.  She encouraged me to apply to Cambridge Historical Tours, one of the companies we had toured with in that first whirlwind month, and there I cut my teeth.  Oh, how terrifying it was at first!  Speaking in front of groups of strangers with no script and no fourth wall!  And all the information!  What if someone asked a question I couldn’t answer?  But through trial and error, endless hours of reading, and many many many tours, I have found my stride, and I love my work.  It only goes to show, sometimes you just have to dive in and do the things that frighten you the most- the other side of that fear can be immensely rewarding!

THE SNOW

My first fall in Boston saw a hurricane, and my first winter saw me digging my car out of a blizzard.  A real experience we just don’t get in Texas.  My third winter saw the most snow Boston has ever had on record for a single season.  The whole city was a snow fort!  It was magical!  Of course by that time I had sold my car, so no more digging out or driving on ice, which probably eased my ability to appreciate the experience.  I think my family is still waiting for me to tire of the winters and move back to the heat of Texas, but I just hate that heat so much- I’ll take the winters a while longer.  Hibernation!  Sweaters!  And sleeping under piles of blankets when it is freezing is just one of the best things in life.

SPRING!

Fall is my favorite season.  And fall in New England is one of the big reasons I moved up here.  Apples!  Cider!  Pie!  Leaves!  Hocus Pocus was filmed here!  It really is the best.  But I never knew spring until I got to Boston.  In Texas the plants rarely die in the winter- it just doesn’t get that cold.  But that means that they don’t need to come back to life again in the spring.  What a miraculous season it is!  When the snow melts and the cold, grey bare ground and branches are suddenly spotted with tiny buds, that become the most magical waves of color!  It is a heartening, inspiring, life-affirming thing to watch the world transform slowly from one season to the next each year.  How did I ever live without the wonder of seasons?

THE MARATHON

And speaking of spring, with spring in Boston comes the marathon, and my very first Boston Marathon was the one that was bombed.  As horrific as it was, that is an event to bring a community together, and I believe that was the moment I began to really feel a part of Boston myself.  I was in Cambridge when the bombs went off.  Safely across the river eating seafood in Harvard Square after a morning of giving tours- my friends and I had decided we needed food before heading across to Boston to watch the run.  Getting out of Cambridge that day was madness, and then, at the end of that same week, I huddled in front of the TV along with the rest of the greater Boston area, watching from inside as our city was shut down and methodically searched.  An experience indeed, and we all walked around for months after, just proud to be a part of this place.

BASEBALL

Another, much preferred way of bringing a community together is, of course, baseball.  I have had the privilege, or perhaps merely the inevitable experience, of becoming a baseball fan in Boston.  As the Red Sox battled towards the World Series in 2013, I learned to appreciate some of the intricacies of the game, and Big Papi (how can you not love David Ortiz?).  That was another night to remember- being out in it when they won!  And then the parade!  One of the few times I have been deliberately late to work was to watch that parade, a very good excuse if I do say so myself!

THE POPS

Much as I love baseball, the Pops is probably still my favorite Boston institution.  I worked for symphony orchestras for several years in Dallas before I moved, and they got under my skin.  I began my time in Boston at a table at the Pops, the Christmas Pops is one of my most cherished Boston Christmas traditions, and so it seemed only right to celebrate my four years at Symphony Hall.  What a pleasure that they were showing Raiders of the Lost Ark with John Williams’ score played live!  As the trumpet played that iconic melody, I raised my Sam Adams in a toast to all the last four years have taught, and to all the next years will bring here in my much loved adopted home.  Boston.

 

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*RECOMMENDED READING: The Lieutenant of Inishmore: Martin McDonagh

This is actually more of a recommended viewing, as it is a play, and one of those plays that really is much more spectacular in production than on the page.  I put it here because this is what inspired my cat’s name.  The play is a dark, dark, dark comedy about an Irish dissident who seeks revenge on the people he thinks has killed his cat, Wee Thomas.  I won’t give away the ending, but shortly after ASMing a production of this show (I was in charge of the blood and explosions!!) I added a little black kitten to my family, and I could think of no better name for a little black kitten than Wee Thomas.