{"id":20236,"date":"2023-11-16T02:52:52","date_gmt":"2023-11-16T02:52:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/?p=20236"},"modified":"2023-11-16T02:52:52","modified_gmt":"2023-11-16T02:52:52","slug":"a-welcome-surprise","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/2023\/11\/16\/a-welcome-surprise\/","title":{"rendered":"A WELCOME SURPRISE"},"content":{"rendered":"

BY JOELLEN COLLINS<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSo what\u2019s wrong with you: were you born with wheels on your feet?\u201d My former mother-in-law never liked my instinct for travel and asked me that question whenever I contemplated exploring some faraway locale.<\/p>\n

\"\"
JoEllen Collins\u2014a longtime resident of the Wood River Valley\u2014is a teacher, writer, fabric artist, choir member and unabashedly proud grandma known as \u201cBibi Jo.\u201d<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Without wheels, I am settling into a new residence after only a week from my move from over 40 years in the Wood River Valley.\u00a0I am fortunate to still have this column to communicate with my friends and acquaintances of the past four decades. That responsibility encourages me to put new experiences in perspective, such as considering what my friends and readers would think about my desire to adjust to my new environment as quickly as possible. I have chosen to look upon this shift in location as a necessary but positive move.\u00a0I have not been disappointed and, in fact, pleasantly surprised by the reaction to my arrival from other residents and neighbors.
\nI have learned through my travels and occasional volunteering in Third World countries that unexpected and sometimes uncomfortable situations far away from home often require resilience, which becomes a passport to a better understanding of other ways of life but also of one\u2019s own growth in accepting change. Opening up to the daily practices of other cultures stimulates increased tolerance and a willingness to test one\u2019s own abilities to try being comfortable with the unknown. Sleeping on a bamboo mat, even without my \u201cbest pillow,\u201d was easier than I had imagined. The sounds awakening me in the morning made up for any initial discomfort.\u00a0The dawn rose for me with accompanying chants from the Thai monks in the wat some 200 feet away. I was blessed with a daily reminder of the beauty of listening to the melodies of the spirit.
\nSo here I am, in half the space I lived in, near a big city, not our dear \u201csmall\u201d ones, and adjusting to a more communal life than I had envisioned. I do miss my daily contacts with friends from my long time in my Idaho mountain homes.\u00a0Nonetheless, I am being nourished by new and welcoming people in most of my encounters. I am \u201cJo\u201d to my neighbors,\u00a0a moniker also used by my grandchildren, who call me \u201cBibi Jo.\u201d \u201cBibi\u201d is Swahili for Grandma, the name the children gave me when I volunteered at the orphanage in Tanzania (founded by Wood River Valley local Theresa Grant). Now when I hear \u201cBibi Jo,\u201d I know I am with children I love here and keep those I cherished in Africa close to my heart in that small way.
\nYesterday, I walked with my dog a short distance to a Safeway.\u00a0While I was seeking a place to tie her outside, an elderly woman (like me) told me I was allowed to put my dog in the basket (!), but she would be happy to keep an eye on her while I shopped. Later, she insisted on driving me home, the behavior like that of my Idaho friends.\u00a0What a welcome surprise.\u00a0I almost feel at home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

BY JOELLEN COLLINS \u201cSo what\u2019s wrong with you: were you born with wheels on your feet?\u201d My former mother-in-law never liked my instinct for travel and asked me that question whenever I contemplated exploring some faraway locale. Without wheels, I am settling into a new residence after only a week from my move from over […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":16827,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","_pvb_checkbox_block_on_post":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,22],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-20236","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-commentary","8":"category-on-lifes-terms"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20236","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20236"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20236\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20237,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20236\/revisions\/20237"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/16827"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20236"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20236"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20236"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}