One of my favorite storytellers is here today. Molly Greene is a woman with a load of chutzpah and the consistent ability to keep me amused and keep the Crayolas out of my ears. We often bounce ideas, vent, and discuss foibles and follies, and when you need a cheerleader, Molly is right there. Today she’s sharing about a simpler—albeit less comfortable—time in her life and the wisdom that came from it. Thanks to Molly for being my guest, and I hope you all enjoy! Don’t forget to check out her new book, Mark of the Loon, which was released this month.
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I was a baby when I got married at 22 (and yes, if I had it to do over again, I would try to talk myself out of it). My husband was my best friend, and I assumed we would be a couple forever. Not so. But we had some outrageous adventures during the ten years we were together. We traveled, we (I) dreamed about our future, we bought and sold property. We had a few successes, and we definitely crashed and burned more than once.
At heart, I was a planner and a back-to-the-lander. Still am. My goal from the time I could remember was to live in the country, grow my own food, raise goats and have a flock of chickens trailing after me around the yard. My ex-husband humored me, and we sidled up to that vision a couple of times (a great garden and poultry). But our closest brush with the lifestyle was Willits.
Two years into our marriage, we bought 40 acres in Northern California. The town of Willits is nestled in an inland valley 30 miles or so from the gorgeous Mendocino coast. Back then, it was best known for the Skunk Train and Frontier Days, a week-long 4th of July celebration and the oldest continuous rodeo in the State of California. It was a backwater cow town and the pot growers were a discreet fringe who had only begun to move in (we weren’t among them).
Our adventure didn’t last, but it was a year to remember. The property had a rustic old rundown barn and a half-built house clad in cheap T-111. We figured we could make it liveable in a few months (ha!). The general plan was to live in our camper in the barn and work on the remodel during the summer, then move into the house before the rains came.
The latrine was an acre away, a shovel with a roll of TP threaded over the handle. Amazing what you can tolerate when you’re a kid. We swam in a nearby pond and took showers using a neighbor’s hose (with their permission). My husband was an expert fisherman who wrapped his own graphite stock. He brought along a slew of raw fishing rods (a.k.a. blanks) sans eyes (the guides that hold the line) and wrapped there in the barn. Finished rods in hand, he approached local vintners and traded state-of-the-art fly fishing gear for wine. We didn’t have running water, but we had a dozen cases of BV Cabernet splits stacked beside our camper door. Life was great, baby.
I found seasonal employment picking wild blackberries. It was hot, sweaty work, but a blast for a city girl living her dream. I ended my days scratched and covered with purple juice. Half my take ended up inside me, half in the bucket. The hubby found employment mending fences on a cattle ranch. I have great memories of that stretch of time. I still have and cherish the ancient “Ukiah Soda Works” bottle we found intact in a streambed. The 100 year old Boy Scout hat I snitched from an old cabin on the hill above us hangs in my guest bathroom. I have vivid memories of getting smacked – hard – in the forehead by a rake handle when I stamped on the tines, and the huge timber rattlesnake I saw slipping through the leaves at the back of our wooded lot.
Of course, the work took twice as long as we planned, and our savings evaporated when the well we paid dearly to drill didn’t locate any water. That was the end. We packed up and headed home. My well-laid plans did not work out. It wasn’t the first time I was disappointed, but this failure devastated me for reasons I am not willing to explain. Looking back, I was awfully young to think I should be perfect, and it took a long time to let that expectation go. Now I’m happily far-less-than-perfect and conscious that each adventure rolls into the next. Each life choice populates the opportunities to come. Every relationship leaves us – if we choose it to be so – with better tools to navigate the next.
Now my idea of camping is a cheap motel, and my favorite life lesson is resilience. I have evolved into an extremely tenacious person. I still get knocked down, but not for long. And I’ve altered my perception of our time in Willits: Now I view it as the hilarious, character-building adventure that it was. We traveled, picked a spot, shopped for real estate, bought a place, moved into the barn, and made it work – for a while.
I was naive and unprepared, but I’ve come to relish the naiveté. I don’t want to lose it in certain areas of my life. That fresh-faced kid who thought she could do anything is still inside me. I may be a little more realistic now, maybe willing to slow the pace, release rigid expectations of how the outcome must look. Life doesn’t always fit our picture, but if we’re willing to adjust the lens, we can capture the adventure and stay open to where this particular snapshot of time will lead. No guts, no glory!
About the Author: Molly Greene is a writer, blogger, and author of contemporary fiction with a bit of suspense. Her debut novel, Mark of the Loon, is available on Amazon and she is currently working on a sequel, Rapunzel. Visit Molly’s website and follow her on Twitter.
Jo VonBargen says
Such a wonderful write, Mollygirl! I agree, resilience is probably the best asset one can cultivate, even though the cultivation comes not by our own will, but from the whims and forces of life experience. You’ve become very wise, my friend, and I’m so happy I met you and am just one recipient of that wisdom in your delightful writing!! You and Laura absolutely light up my life!!
Christina Carson says
We may have lived separate lives, you and me, but they were amazingly similar. I too loved it and there are quiet times when I watch myself let the myths we’ve been fed about aging, try to pull me back from yet another edge. It’s more challenging now, but I do believe with all my heart that is gets easier again as we make a conscious acquaintance with the ageless creature we actually are. Thanks Molly and Laura. That was fun.
Pamela Beason says
That post was fascinating, Molly! Please include more of your experiences in a book about this sometime soon. These days, it’s an unusual tale that a lot of people would like to read.
Molly Greene says
Pam, I’ll write about my life if you write about yours! I think I’d be more comfortable giving some of my experiences to fictional characters. That way, I can embellish to my heart’s content.
Mary Yuhas says
Very interesting, Molly. I got married as soon as I turned 21, and it was good for as long as it lasted. Sadly, he died unexpectedly. Life’s lessons are hard and there’s no escaping them. Well said.
Molly Greene says
I’m so sorry for your loss, Mary, and I agree – life can be hard. The way I look at it, it’s become fodder for the pen :-O
Molly Greene says
I don’t know about wise, Jo, but I do know how fortunate I am. Meeting you and Laura and my Twitter friends has been life-altering, and I love you all for your generous, open-hearted support!
Molly Greene says
Hi Christina! I miss my life among the chickens, and I definitely plan to re-create that garden again someday. I won’t return to those primitive arrangements, though. I choose to live a big-girl life now, one that definitely includes air conditioning. So nice to meet you!
Diane Hughes says
Molly,
I enjoyed reading this and learning more about you, but I most appreciate the lessons you’ve incorporated into this little glimpse into your life. You’re right: Every adventure, experience and relationship prepares us for the next — if we will only let it! And I agree that we must sometimes shift our way of thinking and accept and appreciate what life brings, even it it doesn’t fit our perfect preconceived plan.
Molly Greene says
Hi Diane! Agreed, our life experiences don’t always fit our plan. But sometimes they’re even better than we could have imagined!
Christine Nolfi says
Molly, how can we spend so much time chatting via email and yet there’s still so much about you I don’t know? What a lovely story about a time in your youth when anything seemed possible.
That well-honed perseverance will serve you well as you work on your next novel. I simply can’t wait to read whatever you cook up next!
Molly Greene says
Oh, Christine. There’s so much more I could divulge, but I’ll save it for another day. Yes, resilience, perseverance, tenacity are key. Combine that with a sense of humor and I think we’ve got it made!
Rae Ellen Lee says
Your adventure in housing reminds me of the alternative (aka uncomfortable) housing I’ve lived in — chicken coop, sailboat, old brothel. Each experience is more fun to look back on than it was to actually DO it. Like you, I choose to believe it builds character and resilience, and to realize there’s a lot to be said for flush toilets. Bravo on another intriguing post.
Molly Greene says
Ha! You’re right Rae Ellen, those adventures of youth are more fun to look back on. You couldn’t pay me to do it now. The water goes off here from time to time and I’m reminded how grateful I am for flush toilets, indeed. Thanks so much for stopping by!
Molly Greene says
Laura!! Thank you so much for being such a fabulous hostess! Someday I’ll tell you the things I’ve done in my life that will never make it into print :-O
LOVE YOU!
Laura Zera says
Ha! Can’t wait for that day! Thanks to you for writing this excellent piece. Love you too! xo
Dannie Hill says
You are an interesting person Molly! You’re so right about life. It’s those unexpected twist and turns that makes what we are. I also agree with you about memoir. Given them to fictional characters and throwing in a bit of spice or even a stick of dynamite would make them so much more interesting!
Great post and thank you Laura!
Molly Greene says
Ha! That’s why I like fiction. In real life, we have to shrug it all off. In fiction, we can act out how we REALLY feel. thanks so much Dannie!
Karl Sprague says
Molly, thanks for inviting us into your world. You have a remarkable talent as a writer. You can make us laugh or tug at our heart with a turn of a phrase moving from one sentence to the next. You draw us in, let us feel the joy or disappointment of the moment, and then help us discover a little bit about ourselves. There were some thoughts that I went back to re-read, just to let them marinate. The idea “Each life choice populates the opportunities to come. Every relationship leaves us – if we choose it to be so – with better tools to navigate the next.” Wow. You can help us all navigate the road ahead. Well done.
Molly Greene says
Karl, thank you for the beautiful, thoughtful comment. I’m really just talking to myself, you know, always trying to remind “me” what’s important and what I’ve learned. In the process of writing it down, I’m been lucky enough to meet some incredible people. Like you! Thanks so much.
Rolando says
Great post Molly, and that’s the thing about life: the unexpected. And it happens with an alarming frequency! Most of the time we consider it negative on the short term because it goes against out plans, but years down the road we are surprised to discover how much many of those past experiences shaped our future and made us (hopefully) better persons.
Molly Greene says
So true, Rolando. Looking back, I see that what I thought was “the worst thing that could happen” has often turned out to be the best. Thanks so much for your support, I appreciate you!
Jodi Lobozzo Aman says
I love, love, love this! I love learning about people’s real lives! What an experience. It sounds like me trying to make a 2 acre garden while I work two jobs, write a book, raise small children, and blog….. Way over our heads.
Molly Greene says
It’s amazing what we can pull off, though, when we think we can do it all and jump in. It’s kind of like figuring it all out after you dive off the cliff … Wish I were there to sample from your garden! Best of luck with that, Jodi!
Cindy says
Loved this story and how your notion of what the experience means changed over time.