*1-800-JUNK chopping up our old hot tub on the deck.*

A month ago, we had a junk hauling company come out to take away old furniture, household items, broken fence panels (courtesy of the many tree falls across our white picket fence), and garage items. I also decided to get rid of the big old hot tub that had been sitting on the deck right outside of our sunroom for many years.

The hot tub came with the house from the previous homeowner, and I thought it was awesome at first! Then we quickly realized it wasn’t that great after all. We barely used it because Northeast Ohio weather can be really lousy. It sucked up a ton of electricity. It was big and took up almost all the deck space. And it was a pain in the butt to maintain keeping the water with the right amount of chemicals—some of which never balanced correctly with the others. Some levels would be just right, while others would be too low or too high.

Time to go! Out of curiosity on how the heck the two young men were going to haul it away for us, Rob, Michaela, and I sat in the sunroom to watch the show. There are no stairs leading off the deck into the yard, so I was entertained by the process and nervous for my deck’s railing. Would they somehow lift it and chuck it over? Would they have to carry it through the house?

Turns out neither. They took an electric saw, stood the hot tub up on its side and chopped that bad boy up into manageable pieces—which then were thrown over the deck, making the squirrels and chipmunks below run for their lives.

As the men worked at trying not to saw each other in half as one held the tub steady and the other cut through, I mentioned about how we never used it like I thought we would when we moved here.

One of the young men said, “Where did you guys move from?”

Smiling—because I knew what their response was going to be—I said, “California.”

Sure enough, they reacted exactly how everyone else does when they learn where we were from. “California? Why would you ever move here?!”

Rob and I chuckled. And then I said, “It’s not that bad. We actually really like Ohio.”

The man who asked where we had moved from looked incredulously at his partner and then snorted. “Well, out in this area it’s pretty nice. But you wouldn’t be saying that if you lived in Cleveland.”

The other man laughed and said, “That’s for sure!”

It’s funny because if this had been a few years ago, I would have been incredulous myself for uttering a fondness for Ohio. Let me tell you, I went from excited my first week in Ohio to quickly trying to figure out how the heck to move to anywhere but Ohio. Then something changed, which I’ll get to in a minute.

As the character Colonel William Tavington in Mel Gibson’s movie The Patriot says, “Tell me about…Ohio.”

Glad you asked! I will not, however, be talking about politics, racism, and religion which have their problems everywhere in the nation and can become heated topics. Here’s the quick facts:

Once considered a swing state, Ohio has leaned Republican in recent years. While you do not officially register for a political party here, at the time of this writing, over 1.5 million people consider themselves Republicans. Over 800,000 as Democrats. Close to 6 million are unaffiliated.
Northern Ohio is heavily Catholic when it comes to organized religion. Southern Ohio is heavily Baptist or other Protestant affiliations. Then you have everything in between.
Does racism exist? Yes, in pockets. Ohio is not immune. But what I have personally witnessed around where I live is not so much racism as it is just ignorance from not being exposed to very many different cultures and ethnicities. Geauga County, where I live, is 96.5% white. The majority of the state is white.

Let’s get to my journey with Ohio now!

Ohio’s official state slogan is “Ohio, The Heart of it All.” And they are so proud that the state is in the “shape of a heart.” Hmmmmm.

Heart?, I thought to myself when I saw my first state tourism commercial. What heart?

I couldn’t see it. Unless they meant a lumpy mass like an anatomical version of a heart. No…still couldn’t see it.

Ohio is also proud that it is a gateway state. That I could see. My first experience with Ohio was as a kid when my family moved to Michigan in 1978. We went through Ohio many times to get to other places while traveling, and sometimes we even visited Ohio itself to spend a day of fun at Cedar Point and the wildlife safari park. I would learn decades later after marrying Rob that he had a lot of family in Southern Ohio.

In hindsight, I think Ohio was meant to be. Though at the time, I’d never given the state much thought after we moved from Michigan to California in 1980.

In 1991, I met and married Rob while stationed in Misawa, Japan. Rob and I were both Air Force Security Police Military Working Dog Handlers. Every morning, the Japanese Civilian Guards (CGs)—who worked with us as interpreters and other support personnel—would shout out the informal Japanese greeting, “Ohayo!” (Oh-hi-yo…short for Ohayo Gozaimasu: good morning).

Rob would shout back, “Cleveland!”

It used to crack me up when some of them would look back at him confused. The ones who were used to Rob and knew what he was doing would just smile and shake their heads at him. Rob loved to watch the TV comedy “WKRP in Cincinnati.” He had always wanted to visit Packo’s, a Hungarian hot dog restaurant, because the character Klinger from the TV show M*A*S*H talked about it. Klinger was from Toledo (as was the actor who portrayed him, Jamie Farr). Rob didn’t know if Packo’s was a real place or not, but it had always stayed with him.

Rob also pointed out how many famous or notorious people came from Ohio. Every time I tell him who else I’ve learned is from Ohio, he responds with, “Of course they are!”

Among Ohio’s notables: eight U.S. presidents, three vice-presidents, 25 astronauts, Halle Berry, Drew Carey, Katie Holmes, Lebron James, Steven Spielberg, Neil Armstrong, the Kelce brothers Travis and Jason, Catherine Bach, Yvette Nicole Brown, George Clooney, Tim Conway, Woody Harrelson, Anne Heche, Bob Hope, Luke Perry, Beverly D’Angelo, Nancy Cartwright, Patricia Heaton, and way too many more to list. If you would like to see for yourself how vast the list is of the rich and famous from Ohio, visit: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_people_from_Ohio

Let’s not forget the tycoons who helped shaped Ohio and U.S. history: Rockefeller, Firestone, Wright Brothers, Goodrich, Dow, and so many others.

Ohio is also home to Duck Tape, Sherwin-Williams, Kroger, Proctor & Gamble, Goodyear Tires, Smuckers (yes, the jelly people!), Progressive, Joann Fabrics, Nationwide, Bath and Body Works, Cleveland-Cliffs, Cleveland Clinic, etc.

So, here’s my story of what I’ve learned. Keep in mind it’s only based on my experiences here in Northeast Ohio—with trips here and there throughout the state—since we moved out here in 2018 for Rob’s new job.

I should first talk about the things that made me want to leave Ohio almost as fast as I had arrived. Like any place, there’s the good, the bad, and the ugly. Coming from California—the land of never-ending sunshine, ocean, mountains, desert, diversity, culture, fantastic food, and so much to do—I came to a place that didn’t seem to have much of any of those things I had taken for granted back in the Golden State. There’s a reason why there is a candle company that sells an unscented candle called “Ohio”…because it’s boring and bland. (Before you Ohioans get your feathers ruffled, it gets better. I promise.)

Ticking off the list, I counted numerous less than ideal things that had me constantly doing Internet searches to compile lists of other jobs outside of Ohio Rob could apply to. Lack of diversity (and some of the mentality that came with not having a lot of experience with diverse groups of people), lack of humor, blah food, lack of culture, mosquitos, humidity, little sunshine, storms around the calendar year, a different kind of work ethic, trying to get skilled people to call us back in regards to their services, getting charged an arm and a leg for said services just because of where you live, high cost of produce (compared to California where the bulk of it is grown and sold cheaply), and other things I thought were deal breakers.

*Just one of the 30+ trees we’ve lost on our property since 2018.*

On top of that, we were dealing with the trees on our property here in Geauga County dying, uprooting during storms, and crashing all around us. The fence the previous homeowners installed has since been destroyed in many places from large limbs or 50-80 foot trees landing on top of it. Our swimming pool quit working two months after closing escrow. And our house—three months after close of escrow—was trying to fold and collapse onto itself with the floors sagging so badly, it had a fun house effect and you almost felt sea sick with the tilt.

It turns out that the previous homeowner had removed major support beams that were holding up the house when he finished the basement. A basement expert showed us the I-beam that was twisting in the basement from trying to support the entire weight of the house and all its contents and bodies. I was shocked to learn that this was not an unusual occurrence around here.

“Welcome to Ohio,” he said, “where all the houses are old and broken.”

We wound up having to install something like 13 supports. I was at my wits end. I was constantly in the hospital, as well, undergoing multiple tests and having major surgeries. It felt like everything was pushing against me.

Every time I thought about all the issues we were having, I was scoping out other job opportunities and emailing or texting them to Rob.

I never felt like this house was mine either. I unfortunately met the previous homeowners who told us about all the stuff they had done to the house, what the house had meant to them, and all the plants they had nurtured in the gardens outside. All I could see every time I opened my eyes in the morning was their house. With their choices.

Rob liked Ohio. While he had his share of frustrations, he was willing to overlook those things because he loved the beauty of the state. When house hunting for us while I was still back in California selling our home, he came across Geauga County and loved the Appalachian foothills with the rocks, trees, valleys, rivers, lakes, woodlands, wetlands, and wildlife. It reminded him of being back home in Kentucky and West Virginia.

Rob had plenty of places to fish. It was quiet. It was the country life he had escaped as an 18-year-old and now wanted to be a part of again in his senior years. He had made a best friend at work and was part of a camaraderie of people all working for the same mission in life.

He was always seeking to learn new facts about Ohio and would come home excited to tell me what he learned. He loved the old buildings of Cleveland. He had discovered Packo’s did indeed exist and he was thrilled at every opportunity he had to go to Toledo for work. That meant he got to go to Packo’s and have his Hungarian hot dogs surrounded by M*A*S*H memorabilia.

Here I was, however, constantly feeding him job listings. Instead of telling me how he would stay forever if he could, he simply looked into each opportunity and even applied for some of them. He wanted me to be happy and he knew I wasn’t in the moment. It didn’t matter that I had been receiving world class health care for my various health issues from Cleveland Clinic and University Hospitals. It didn’t matter that there was plenty of charm and things to love about here. I ignored all of these.

Then something switched a few years ago after we had been here for four years. I’m still not sure if there was a single defining moment, but it most likely happened gradually as I came into an awareness of how happy Rob was here. What was he seeing that I wasn’t? So, I worked at shutting off the noise within me that wanted to find more reasons to leave just to validate my feelings.

I came to the realization that Rob had created a life here.

I had not.

I had been so focused on leaving that I didn’t take the time to make friends, get involved in my community, and settle in. Doing those things meant I would be setting down roots. I was a lifelong nomad. Decades of military and civilian moves are what I knew. Nothing was permanent in my book. Living in one place for too long made me stir-crazy.

The first thing I looked at was right in front of me: my environment. Being a nature loving person, I did appreciate the natural beauty all around me. I mean, how could I not? It was everything I had been dreaming of living in after years of California desert. Greenery. Trees that change brilliant colors. Water everywhere from rivers, streams, ponds, and a Great Lake. An abundance of wildlife. Flowers galore.

*Peonies, wild chives, chameleon, and lemon grass.*

Then I started doing something. I began to express my gratitude for it. This was one of the processes on this journey that began to shift things within me.

When my mind would wander into Self-Catastrophizing Land, I would pause, look out the windows of the sunroom, and think, “How lucky are we to have all this!”

At nearly 2 acres, this property would have easily cost well over a million dollars in California! At the time we bought it, we paid a mere fraction of that. Home values have since skyrocketed, but in 2018, a house with acreage was quite affordable.

*A doe enjoying a salt lick block near the top of our waterfall feature.*

With enough repetitive actions and behaviors reminding myself of all that I have right in front of me, I felt the shift getting stronger and stronger. Gratitude was the attitude to have for sure!

I started to remind myself of all the wonderful things I had been bypassing to fit my previous narrative. I knew that people here are kind and friendly. A little blunt at times due to their European and Amish roots, but I lived in Europe. Straightforward opinions are nothing new to me and make me chuckle at times.

People love to be helpful. It’s the Midwest charm I’ve grown to love. When we first moved out here, you would not believe how many people wanted to share with us all the places to go eat at and things to go see as soon as they found out we were from California. While buying a car, our salesman printed out 10 pages of wineries and other points of interest for us because he was excited for us to get to know the area. Grocery check out employees would tell us places to go and customers behind us would join in the chat. It felt homey and it felt like a real community, something I had been missing since we got out of the Air Force.

A lot of places out here are seemingly untouched by time. Neighbors still look out for one another. I can’t tell you how many times my heart has been warmed to see someone post on a popular neighborhood app looking for someone to mow their lawn on their tight budget, just to find out later that someone saw the post and took care of the person’s lawn for free. I’ve seen people needing a way to get their elderly mother to a doctor’s appointment, and suddenly there are 10 people volunteering to give a ride, bring a meal if they would like one, and asking if they need help with their housework or yard work.

We’ve been the recipient of people checking on us too. When a humongous maple tree uprooted and fell on our property, the crash was so bad that our entire house shook as the earth shuddered violently. A neighbor (who happened to be out for a walk) came running over to make sure we were okay. When another tree took out 3 fence panels, we had neighbors asking if we needed help with the cleanup.

Rob was pulled out of a ditch when his riding lawn mower got stuck in mud by a neighbor with a tractor. A couple of sheriff’s deputies also stayed with Rob until a tow truck showed up when his tire blew on the road to make sure he stayed safe. When I was diagnosed with Chiari Malformation, several women came by to see if I needed anything and to lend support because one of the other women’s sister had the same thing. I get waves and a “looks great!” when neighbors driving by see me outside gardening and putting out holiday decor. A neighbor has brought over tomatoes from his garden.

*Homes are nearly hidden from Spring to early Autumn due to our woods.*

We in turn look out for our neighbors. We’ve offered our neighbors a place to stay when the power was out for a week, since we have a whole house generator. Last year a tornado tore through our area. Our elderly widowed neighbor was trapped in her driveway when a bunch of trees came down across it. Without thought, Rob grabbed his chainsaw and I grabbed my gloves and pushbroom to take care of the trees and debris for her. None of our properties are very close together out here since we’re rural out in the county. But it’s still tight-knit in spirit.

I did learn, however, that all this Midwest friendliness and pleasantness came with a disregard for the California-street-smarts-boundaries likeness of me. During my first week in Ohio, Rob wanted to show me where he worked. So we drove to Cleveland from our temporary apartment in Sheffield Lake and were walking in the mall area of Tower City Center. Suddenly, someone came rushing up behind me and grabbed my shoulder. I screeched and came unglued. I thought someone was trying to take my purse, so I whipped around to punch whoever it was. I came face to face with a very shocked woman in her late 50s who was standing there with a female friend.

The blood drained from her face and she stammered, “I just wanted to tell you how beautiful your blouse is! I’ve never seen it before and wanted to know where you bought it.”

I was trying to come down from my stance—out of the fight or flight modes, I had automatically chosen “fight”—and stammered back gruffily, “Thanks. But I don’t remember where. Kohls? Macys? Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me!”

The lady grabbed her friend’s arm and they hurried away. Her voice sounded like she was trying not to cry when I heard her tell her friend, “I feel so bad! I really didn’t mean to scare her!”

I have since learned to be okay with the touchy-feely gestures of kindness from Ohioans. It’s not unusual for someone to touch your arm while talking to you, push your bangs out of your eyes for you or push your hair back behind your shoulders, grab your hand, pat you on the back, etc. For all the European traits that are present here, they do differ in that they are not reserved as they are across the Pond. It’s the Midwest magic.

My county is home to the 4th largest Amish settlement in the world. Amish live side by side with the “English,” meaning the rest of us. Keeping the old traditional ways alive in this day and age of technology and instant gratification fills me with deep respect. I’ve always said that should we ever have an apocalypse, the Amish will be the ones to survive through it all while everyone else is going to fall apart because they can’t use their cell phones, don’t know how to grow their own food, and no longer have skills such as how to sew a button back on a shirt. Well, accept the kids out here. They are hard working and many do learn skills that rely on their hands and the old ways.

*Courthouse in Chardon Square at Christmastime.*

Let’s talk hometown goodness! In town, it’s pure Hallmark charm through and through. American flags fly. Hometown heros line the streets on banners displaying their names and photos. Holidays find towns decked out in festive finery. Over 125 historic covered bridges span throughout the state. You share the roads with Amish horse and buggies.

Towns in Geauga County and many other places throughout Ohio feel as if you have stepped back in time where hometown parades, festivals, and community events are the norm. Maybe it’s not so much stepping back in time as in it just simply never left. Tradition preserved for all time.

Kids actually play outside! Why am I excited about that? Because in all the years I lived in California, I rarely saw kids outside. They were always holed up in their houses playing video games or scrolling through social media on their phones. In Ohio, they are out in the ditches by the road looking for frogs, shooting cans in the woods, building forts out of fallen tree branches, fishing, playing in the grass, riding bikes and ATVs, and just being kids.

*Amish buggy coming through Windsor Mills covered bridge.*

Geauga County is the maple capital of Ohio, producing 60% of the state’s maple syrup. The county also ranks 4th or 5th in the entire United States as a maple producer. Every Spring, the Maple Festival is celebrated marking the end of the sap harvest and syrup production. Come rain, snow, or shine, the festival draws people from all over Ohio and beyond. Only three times in history did the festival ever get canceled: WWII, a horrible sap season in 1946, and during Covid 2020.

Ah, but during Covid 2021, something wonderful happened. Faced with the possibility of yet another cancellation during to the on going pandemic, a married couple opened up their farm (Ransom Sage Farm) to the public and we had a drive-thru festival. All the vendors lined a path through the farmland and we were all able to drive along, stopping when purchasing maple goods, other festival treats, and crafts from our car windows.

Geauga County is also home to The Great Geauga County Fair, the oldest continuing county fair in Ohio…and one of the oldest in the entire nation!

*Autumns are glorious in Northeast Ohio.*

Nature galore. I know I have already mentioned this, but it’s the people I want to talk about in regards to the natural world. One of the surprising things about Ohioans is about how they hold nature conservation near and dear to their hearts. People on social media like to accuse Californians about being environmental wackos. Here? Ohioans are just as passionate. They’re all about protections in place for healthy flora and fauna.

You will hear endless discussions about how to protect the honey bee. People have returned their properties to nature with many growing clover instead of grass and others leaving sections to grow wild for the wildflowers the bees and butterflies favor. Want to use Round Up on your weeds? Be prepared to get chastised for leeching that poison into the soil and ground water! Want to use mulch? You’ll hear opinions about using that fancy, pretty dyed mulch as well. People are all about native plants, native trees, and creating havens for wildlife. Bat houses. Owl houses.

The parks Rob and I have been to have been pristine. You will not find garbage littering the ground, rivers, creeks, ponds, or lakes.

The contrast between Ohio parks and other parks is startling. Rob and I had traveled to New Hampshire several years ago and I thought I was going to be in scenic heaven. Instead, I was disturbed to see parks and woodlands littered with trash, hypodermic needles, and vehicle tires. It was yet another reminder to be grateful for what I have in Ohio.

Due to Ohio losing trees at a scarily fast rate, people are encouraged to plant trees. Some organizations and communities even hand out free saplings or seedlings. The hope is to ward off the reduction in the tree canopy which has been caused by disease, wood destroying pests, storm damage, and even fire.

Is all of Ohio clean or environmentally sound? Not so much in the big cities. And not in East Palestine where there was a train derailment disaster. And let’s not mention the Cuyahoga River actually catching on fire in 1969. But I will say that the county and state parks are meticulous in making sure that their areas are clean and safe for the public to visit. Oh, and they’re all free.

*Raccoon helping himself to our squirrel feeders.*

A wide array of wildlife thrives in Ohio. Geauga is Seneca tribe word for raccoon, and boy do we have the raccoons! On our property we have had fox, groundhogs, too many raccoons, possums, coyotes, a small black bear, garter snakes, rat snakes, chipmunks, four different kinds of squirrels, rabbits, deer, and all kinds of birds from the tiny finches to the great raptors. It’s not unusual to see eagles. I even had a huge gyrfalcon hanging out with me one day while I was gardening. There are bobcats around as well, though we have yet to see one on our property.

And we have Lake Erie, one of the nations five Great Lakes. I was surprised that it smells like the ocean at times. That’s because there are large salt deposits under the lake from when it was a large inland sea back in ancient times. This salt is mined and used on our roads to de-ice in winter.

Speaking of Winter, Geauga county is the snow capital of Ohio. I was looking forward to being in snow again after many years away from it, but then I realized I’m no longer in my youth. Now I understand why so many Ohioans are snowbirds, escaping in the wintertime to warmer climates. Winters are long, cold, and can be really harsh. Our growing season is short here in Northeast Ohio. It just makes us really appreciate the other seasons when they finally arrive, and you can’t beat a winter wonderland that looks like it’s out of a Currier and Ives print.

With all these things to find gratitude in, it was recently that I was able to finally put my finger on what it was that I had been feeling, but had trouble articulating. I felt safe. Safe for the first time since we moved from Germany back to California in 2002.

Geauga County isn’t immune to crime, but for the most part, it is safe. I know people who don’t ever lock their doors to their houses. Now, before any thieving opportunists think this would be a prime spot to commit crimes in, think again. Most people out here are proud gun owners and they will use them to protect their families and properties. Coming from California where everything gets locked up like Fort Knox, it shocked me to see how many people leave their cars unlocked and windows down. There’s just that level of trust. Sadly, the police blotters are starting to show signs of big city problems heading this way, but it’s still pretty much Mayberry in my perspective because of where I had come from.

Rob and I were talking retirement and deciding where to go next. We talked about moving down South or to the property we own in Arizona. Then I looked around and said, “But we’d be trading safety, this beautiful place, and non-poisonous snakes for many poisonous snakes and the uncertainty of a new place. Maybe we’ll just stay here in Geauga County. Maybe not this house forever, but I would love to stay in the county.”

I watched as Rob about fell out of his chair in disbelief hearing this come from me. Me of all people! Yes, I could finally see the heart in the shape of the state. It’s still a funky looking heart, but I see it now. And I felt the metaphorical heart, the pulse of the people and the land. The heart in the “heart of it all.”

The people were not humorless. Just ask the lady driving down the road in her Jeep with her life size alien doll next to her in the passenger seat. The people were not boring. Just look at all the storytellers, artists, great achievers, and Big Foot enthusiasts (right on!).

This place is not cultureless. Once I really opened my eyes, I saw plenty of culture even if it didn’t look like me and the people I grew up with. It’s just European culture: Polish, Hungarian, Greek, Italian, Ukrainian, Russian, German, Slovenian, Lithuanian, Jewish. Each have brought their old world ways and have added to the makeup that is Ohio. Instead of tamales, now it’s perogies. Instead of mariachis it’s polka bands. I had to get out of West Coast mentality and back into European mentality I had in the nearly four years I lived in Germany.

*Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, OH*

The state is not boring. One of the things I did during the shift that occurred within was start a YouTube channel to find places and things to do in Ohio to gain a better appreciation. I figured this may help others who are transplants like us to not compare Ohio to other places but enjoy it for what it is. We call it Watts Ohio Adventures (@GeaugaGeezers on YouTube). Not only are the videos fun to make, but they’ve helped affirm to myself what a great place Ohio can be. We don’t have very many videos, but we continue to add to the collection from time to time. While it doesn’t have Hollywood, NYC, or Miami, Ohio does have beautiful parks, amusement parks, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Pro Football Hall of Fame, haunted places, Ohio State Reformatory (of Shawshank Redemption fame), Serpent Mound, Lake Erie, and so much more.

I must admit the food is still not all that great, but we’ve discovered that almost any Italian place is awesome. Rob thinks Packo’s is superb. It’s just meh for me, but I enjoy watching him enjoy it. Mexican food? Forget it. But then again, if you think Taco Bell is real Mexican food, then you’ll be okay. I’ve had people rave about certain Mexican restaurants to Rob and I, and all I can think is, “Oh you poor thing! Apprarently you’ve never had the real deal because that ain’t it.” Who the hell stuffs burritos and fajitas with BROCCOLI? They do here in Ohio.

Eh. You can’t win them all Ohio, but you’re pretty great overall!

Oh, Ohio!

Inner Bully