Why on Earth We're Moving to Pullman WA

My handsome husband (Ryan) is an Architecture Professor. He's bright and talented and like many careers, the path up the ladder can necessitate a change in location.  He's been the Associate Dean of the Architecture department at the University of Utah for 3+ years, and has been there for 14. He's been invited to apply/headhunted at some great places over the last decade. We've made a few trips to explore job offers, but nothing has felt right, the timing has been off, we were in the middle of bigger fish to fry in UT. Noteworthy is that jobs in academia often take 6+ months from the initial "putting together and sending in your CV" to the "you're hired." So, about forever ago Washington State University contacted Ryan and asked him to apply. In looking over the job description, he said that it precisely matched his interests, his academic desires, and seemed like an excellent fit. Several months later, he went through a series of interviews, and he was just as impressed with them as they were with him, and he got the job. The last step in making it a done deal was flying Ryan and me out so that "we" (really "me" bc he'd already been there) could fall in love with the place.

We were there for 4 days. Day 1 in spite of great effort to keep an open mind (I'm not even kidding here) I went to bed in a panic that I was going to have to play bad cop, and talk my spouse off the "moving to the random small town in the middle of no-where with nothing to do and see" ledge. Small towns don't all look like Northern Exposure; some of them have dilapidated buildings, telephone wires that are never going to be buried, and movie theatres that make the Kaysville Dollar theatre look high class. Yikes. But to WSU's credit, they worked hard to impress us. They put together a schedule of people to meet (who were just so lovely and kind), restaurants to hit (which were local, unique and fabulous), and most importantly they got us an appointment with the principal of the (only) high school in Pullman. It was even on a Saturday, during Spring Break. The school is brand spanking new (50+million dollar build) and the facilities were incredible. We got to hash out educational concerns and goals during our 2-hour tour. When we wrapped up the meeting and hopped into our car, Ryan and I had tears in our eyes. We both agreed that this was going to be a great fit for our kids. I think he was misty-eyed bc he was so happy, and I was bawling devasted, sad, don't want to come and live here but feel like we should tears. It was an ugly cry.  Later that afternoon we were taken on a pre-arranged tour with a realtor, giving us the chance to get our bearings. We mentioned a desire to build our own home and so part of the tour included driving by some of the potential lots...  

It's time for a flashback: Several months prior I woke from a very vivid dream. Typically my dreams are unremarkable or shifty, but this one was clear and vivid. I told Ryan about it: In my dream, I was standing in what I knew to be my kitchen. It had white tile for the backsplash and a farmhouse dining table with different colored chairs. And I was looking out over rolling green hills. "I don't even know where it looks like this", I told him. "East Coast?" And then I told him it looked all rural, and we both laughed and laughed. Our plan is to eventually retire in a downtown condo and we are hoping that if an apocalyptic catastrophe hits, that we'll be the first to go (we promise we'll help out as angels on the other side.) I tucked this little dream away somewhere in a dusty corner of my mind and didn't give it a second thought, until...

The realtor takes us around, shows us the town, we part ways and Ryan and I drive back out to the place he cruised by. We drove up the hill to the area he said had some nice lots. I hopped out of the car and took a look. The view was literally a snapshot of my dream, rolling hills and all. This dream I'm positive that God knew I would need a few solid tender mercies if I was ever to agree to leave Bountiful*, and my prayer to know what we should do was answered. God is good. Our trip to check out Pullman WA ended with the decision that it was time for the Smiths to move.

* Many of you either grew up in small towns or frequently visit small towns, or have dreams to move to a small town. No offense intended. I too hope to be a defender of the splendor of small towns in just a few months.