Tag Archives: old friends

Walla Walla: travels to and from

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Thanksgiving evening on the side of the freeway in Grants Pass.

We spent Thanksgiving hitch hiking through Northern California. The night before we got a hotel room in Eureka. We were trying to get to Eugene but called it a night in Canyonville, after a trucker dropped us off at a truck stop near the casino. We made it to Roseburg the next day via a local bus and took Greyhound from there – Casper to Eugene and me to Portland.

Foggy mountain morning

Foggy mountain morning

It has been 15 days since we left Humboldt County. In those two short weeks we have seen a lot of extended family – me in Olympia, Seattle and Walla Walla and Casper in Eugene – and we are exhausted from the combination of transition, travel and visiting.

My parents reside in Walla Walla and I came home with them the weekend after Thanksgiving. Casper joined us a week later via Amtrak from Eugene.

That was four days ago. Tonight we board an Amtrak train headed east. Saturday morning my sister will pick us up in Minneapolis and yet another life begins. We will descend into yet another world.

And that is what we do, you know: we place ourselves over and over in new worlds. We watch and listen a lot; don’t speak as much as you might think.

And right now we’re thinking that we want to do more of that.

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On top of a parking garage in Roseburg, Oregon.

My mom will join us out in Wisconsin for Christmas, and a good friend of Jess’ (who we met when we visited her in Texas last year) is coming right after Christmas. She is house-sitting a little house in the same valley where we grew up and our own self-built house still stands.

Sisters are magical; I expect great beauty and growth for all present in the next three weeks. Also there will be a lot of really good food and my sister’s beautiful laugh which is contagious, particularly for me.

After Wisconsin – January? February? – Casper and I are flying to Mexico City! “Another white dash,” I think when I contemplate our latest leap of faith into a new world – and “once more with feeling”. Pack the bags. Reconsider your few belongings: what is now superfluous that last week was essential? what new items have taken top priority? We leave behind the ripped sleeping bag that was our only blanket this summer and trade out Casper’s threadbare backpack for a big duffel bag. I get to pack dresses, my paints and brushes, more than one pair of shoes. Every item we use regularly is re-examined for its worth in our new situation. Every possession is chosen.

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“Please understand I have been waiting to leave ever since i figured out there were roads willing to take me anywhere i wanted to go.”

In Mexico, we plan to live in Xalapa. We know what we want to do with our time and just need the space to do it so cheap rent and foreign culture beckon us. We are excited, though this morning our minds and hearts are caught up in the present transitions of leaving Walla and arriving in Wisconsin and the dreamy travel-time of Amtrak in between.

Oh, and I’m making solstice cards and I want you to want one. Send me your address in the next week or so for best results. <3

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Outside Eugene

I just added a couple photos to this post about us leaving Portland and spending time in Salem.

We’ve been staying in this rad house half an hour to the east of Eugene for about a week now. Casper’s friend who used to live here has moved into an RV in the woods (permaculture, zombie defenses, etc) so this place is empty and paid up until June 30.

The house is two stories: the bottom has two garage doors and cement floors. The top half, reachable by a set of wooden steps at the back of the house, is where we are staying.

The first thing we did when we got in was clean up. One corner of the living room is covered in my art supplies and I’ve been painting up a storm. The other side of the living room has our bed roll and a TV hooked up to Casper’s laptop. The fridge isn’t hooked up so we’ve been eating perishables first, rice and beans second.

One of the bedrooms we left empty for garbage storage and whatnot while the other, smaller one Casper has turned into a beautiful spiritual space. Patterned cloth, four altars, sigils on the walls. I go in there to do yoga.

Across the road that the living room windows look out on is a big field and a bit of woods and beyond that the McKenzie river. I hopped the gate into the field a few days ago. There are plenty of blackberry vines to avoid, but once you get away from the road the field is just full of white and yellow daisies! There are some little purple honeycomb flowers, too, and the blackberries are all abloom with their dainty white flowers.

If you follow the edge of the treeline, you can eventually find a blackberry-free way to dip into the woods. From there, you can follow water gullies right down to the river. There’s a sandy little beach and some good sitting rocks. Right across the river at that spot you can see three different houses, but if you position yourself westward and slightly southward all you see is trees and water and sky.

We only just got our phone charger back (we have two. there are often times where we don’t have either with us. how does this happen?!) so photos of this lovely spot have not been taken yet. Soon!


Vashon Photos: housemates!

I am so excited to have all our photos organized! W00t! We have had a hell of a time keeping a camera working so most of our photos these days are from my cell phone. Luckily, it has a pretty decent camera on it.

We lived on Vashon Island near Seattle for just about seven months. October 25-ish through May 1. Counting that up just now, I’m really surprised we were that for that long. We always had this road mindset about us even there. We knew permanence was temporary.

These are the beautiful folks who we lived with for most of the time we were there:

Ben!

Cosmo!

Kyle!

Those photos were all taken in me and Casper’s bedroom. We all hung out quite a bit in there even though it was tiny.

Kyle, Casper, Cosmo and Ben in our wee bedroom.


St. Paul/Minneapolis: Before Sunset, Before Sunrise

From Before Sunrise.

The next morning, Casper was slightly hung over and we headed back to Andy’s. Casper slept while I went online. In the evening, we ate dinner with Andy’s family and then had a magical evening.

Awhile ago, I found this amazing quote on Tumblr that I promptly reblogged. Andy saw it, commenting that the movie it was from – Before Sunrise – was amazing. Andy also mentioned that Before Sunset, the sequel – released and set nine years after the first one – was equally amazing.

I hadn’t heard of either of them. I downloaded the first one and it sat in our to-watch folder for a few months. Finally we got around to watching it and it blew our minds! We highly recommend it to everyone out there. It’s exquisite.

We had the second one downloaded and ready to watch when we arrived at Andy’s but hadn’t gotten around to watching it yet. Per Andy’s suggestion, on our last night at his house, the three of us watched both movies, one right after the other.

It was the night of the lunar eclipse. Before starting the movies, we all three stood in the road and looked at the full, rising moon. Casper noticed that, since the moon was close to the silhouetted horizon, if he bobbed his head just right it seemed as if the moon was bobbling about in the sky. I dismissed this as nonsense, but then Andy started doing it and I gave into peer pressure and we all stood bobbing our heads, bobbing the moon.

The three of us settled down on the living room couch and watched Before Sunrise. In it, you get so invested in these two people’s lives, and it ends so vaguely. It ends with an agreement that neither the characters nor the audience are sure will be kept.

It made me feel like my idealistic and realistic selves were battling each other out, trying to decide what happens to these two people after the movie ends. Where is the line between cynicism and realism? Between romanticism and idealism? How do we ever know whether this time, this moment, is an exception to the rule?

And, if we decide that it isn’t, if we decide that our idealism is blurring into romanticism, how do we live with ourselves if, later, we realize it was an exception? That’s what the sequel is about.

Near the end of the second movie, I was readying my heart to break. People talk shit about fairytale endings, but, man, those apathetic-indie endings leave my heart a mess! I was bracing myself but then I realized the movie wasn’t going to break my heart. While relieving, this also meant that they had to end it sweetly and the only way to do that, I assumed, was sappily. I knew it was going to end well, but I was now bracing myself for disappointment instead of heartbreak. I was sure there was no conclusion in the world that could properly end such an epic, emotional, raw movie.

I was wrong. There is. Watch these movies. Seriously.

After, we stayed up about an hour more, talking.


St. Paul/Minneapolis: Ian

Casper and Salem enjoying a morning at Andy's.

The second day at Andy’s, we did a lot more lazing about. I feel kind of self conscious about how much time Casper and I spend sleeping/lazing/cuddling. I don’t think of us lazy or unmotivated. We just enjoy a hell of a lot of downtime. Mostly, I’m nervous about what our hosts – couch surfing and otherwise – will think of us. Anyway. That’s a mind-thing that I’m still working on.

We slept a lot, played chess on the deck, read to each other from The Intellectual Devotional (which I first saw at Andy’s and, by the time we left, had ordered my own copy online), spent time online, etc. The house was empty most of the day and we had a key. It was a really wonderful set up and we’re very grateful to Andy’s whole family.

That evening, we were hoping to meet up with Casper’s friend Ian, who just happened to be in town for the Netroots Nation conference. Ian is the pissed off gay blogger over at OneAngryQueer! We went into Minneapolis – about 20 minutes from Golden Valley – and then to St. Paul to visit the Mississippi Market, a natural food co-op that I had heard much about but had never been to. Growing up, our neighbors ran a CSA and their drop off spot was at Mississippi Market. It and the Hard Times Café was pretty much all I knew about the Twin Cities before this trip.

We did some shopping, played cards in the car, and then drove to Ian’s hotel. He was out and about so we waited in the lobby until he came back. We were all pretty sleepy, but he and Casper shared a (large) bottle of wine and stayed up past midnight. We texted Andy to let him know we would be staying with Ian that night – he was supposed to have a roommate in the hotel room (sponsored by the conference) but didn’t so there was a free bed.

And oh dear gawd it was comfortable.


St. Paul/Minneapolis: Food at Andy’s

Until I met Casper, I had a hard time eating any food unless it was mostly sugar. Pretty much everything made me sick. It wasn’t just dairy, or gluten, or whatnot. It had no pattern. I have since realized that it was caused by my stomach being tense. My meds have helped that symptom of my anxiety, but Casper’s love of food and eagerness to feed me well has made me want to enjoy food.

With his help, I’ve tried cheeses, breads, meats, and more that I had never consciously eaten. I used to eat sandwiches by taking them apart, eating each ingredient by itself; all the flavors together were too much for me. Growing up, I was famous for eating plain pasta and plain rice (sometimes with a little salt, but no oil or cheese) and plain bagels. Now, we’ve learned that bland, processed carbs cause a serotonin boost and, therefore, many depressed people become attached to pastas, rice, etc just like me.

This is the only food related photo I could find... This is me eating a mango in Madison, pantsless.

Casper lets me eat how I want, but he encourages me to combine flavors. He suggests savory instead of sweet; seasoned instead of bland. Sometimes he makes fatal errors – the spices and oil he feels he must add to any pasta has several times made it inedible to me – but, mostly, he is revolutionizing my idea of food. I used to say that, if I could, I would give up eating all together and just take nutrients pills. Casper is making me love food.

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St. Paul/Minneapolis: Andy’s

Walking to the Hard Times Cafe on a beautiful day.

After we drove Mar to Duluth and left our couch host’s house, we spent a lot of time at the Hard Times Café and slept in our car near a park about a mile away. We slept incredibly well – much better than we expected and much better than we had during previous car-sleeping attempts.

One morning, Casper and I spread out our blanket in the park on the top of a rise so we could look down on the lake. We did yoga and I said hi to all the dogs that passed by. Casper always does more yoga than me and I waited for him to finish by lying face down on the blanket for quite a while; that kind of stillness, peace, un-anxiousness is new to me.

Right across the river from the Café was an amazing head shop called the Hideaway. It’s in a funky little neighborhood, kitty corner to a laid back library and next door to an occult bookstore. Inside, there were more glass pieces than I have ever seen. Lighters, too, and cigars, incense, hookahs, jewelry, hippie clothes, and all the related paraphernalia. They had a good selection of herbal incense, too, at prices lower than anything we have seen in Cincinnati, Chicago, Madison, or Menomonie. We have become fans of the King Cobra brand.

The occult bookstore grabbed Casper’s attention and we visited twice. The first time, I wandered around with him and had us leave well before he was truly satisfied. The second time we went, I sat outside and worked on my journal while he spent a good half hour in there with books on esoterica that even he had never seen before.

After a few days living in the car, we drove to Golden Valley and stayed Andy, with a friend of mine from Camp. He lives with his family – a mom, a dad, two sisters, and an incredibly adorable pup named Brownie – in a cozy house that his parents have been in for over 25 years. I knew his sisters from Camp, too, and we warmed to his parents immediately.

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St. Paul/Minneapolis: The Duluth Adventure

I met Mar in high school, though he went by a different name then, and said hi to him when we crossed paths in college, but I’ve actually only hung out with him a few times. Yet, he feels like a good friend. He was headed to Duluth to help a friend of his mom’s move across the company. It was so good to see him. Casper and he immediately hit it off, too, which allowed me to relax socially.

Mar was hungry, having been traveling most of the day, so we headed to the Mall of America. It’s just a tram ride away from the airport and we already had our passes because we’d parked at a park and ride and ridden the train into the terminal. (So cool!) I had considered just taking us to our car since we had some food there but thought MOA would be easier and more fun. Boy, was I wrong.

Mar didn’t have too much luggage so Casper took my purse, I took Mar’s suitcase and he carried his backpack. Before going into the Mall, we smoked a couple cigarettes and he bestowed upon me the following:

The last few lines of Bukowski's "Alone with Everybody", the second poem of his I read and what convinced me to borrow the book.

We strode quickly through MOA searching for decent food. It was late – 8ish – and not much was open. All we could find were ice cream shops. At 8:07, we gave up and hurried back to the tram. We got on, but it just sat there for quite awhile before finally taking off towards the airport.

It felt like my birthday! At Peggy’s, I acquired a book of Rumi, too, so I am in poetry bliss at the moment book-wise.

Mar’s shuttle was scheduled to leave at 8:45. We arrived, after running up and down escalators in the airport, at 8:47 and the shuttle was nowhere in sight.

I had promised Mar that, if we missed the tram, we’d drive him to Duluth. It was no big trouble for us – we didn’t have any plans for the night, we love to drive, and it gave us more time with Mar.

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St. Paul/Minneapolis: Couch Surfing Awkwardness

Nomming on Casper's amazing garlic bread.

We left Peggy’s on the 8th, a day before the Twin Cities Couch Fest’s first event. Our first Twin Cities host was going to let us stay four nights. We arrived and the place was great: newly remodeled, lots of space, a private sleeping area, an air mattress. We sat in our host’s living room and chatted with her for awhile.

Casper cooked spaghetti and the most incredible garlic bread I have ever had and we shared our dinner with our host. Casper and I played chess (still no win for me) and then went to bed. The next day was the early bird kickoff for the Couch Fest. We left the house around noon, after a lot of much-needed cuddling, in search of wifi and a grocery store. We spent quite a bit of time online and, afterwards, drove to Joe’s Garage, for the kickoff.

We were some of the first guests to arrive, but within an hour the place was fairly full and we had made some friends. We spent a good deal of time talking to a fantastic lady named Roseanne. She just joined Couch Surfing and has yet to have her first guests. 2010 was a hard year for her, she told us, and she was ready to make 2011 a joyful year.

We also met a few other folks, two of which were from Philadelphia and around our age. I forget their names, but they encouraged us to come to Philly some day and we definitely plan to. After a couple of hours, we were peopled-out and needed to head to the airport to spend a few hours with my friend Mar, from Washington. He had just flown in from Seattle (via Phoenix) and had two hours before he needed to catch a shuttle to Duluth, in northern Minnesota. I promised him that we’d get him back in time for his shuttle.

But I didn’t. In short, he missed his shuttle so we drove him all the way to Duluth. Details on that adventure (because that, as most of my mistakes end up being, is exactly what it turned out to be) shall be told in another post.

It’s three hours each way to Duluth so we didn’t arrive back in the Twin Cities until 5am. We hung out at a coffee shop for a few hours before ringing our host’s doorbell. We had texted her the night before that our plans had gone awry and we wouldn’t be home until the next day. We also tried texting and calling her before doing the door ringing.

We had obviously woken her up but she didn’t seem too upset. I took a shower and then we went to bed immediately. We slept until 3pm. At that point, the awkwardness began.

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A Note on Casper’s Intelligence

Casper waking up in Nashvile. April 2011.

I’m an unschooler. I was raised as one and continue to live my life with as much curiosity and passion as I can. Casper calls himself homeschooled but pretty much unschooled himself when no structured education was provided.

He’s not a devout unschooler; in fact, he thinks of his early education as a failed attempt at homeschooling, one which he was lucky enough to rise above by educating himself. He focuses on the lack of homeschooling while I am awed by how innately he began unschooling, or directing his own education, without even knowing he was doing it.

He continues to unschool, too, though he wouldn’t call it that. He has a brain like an encyclopedia and is positively thrilled about the most dense, archaic, esoteric stuff out there. We’re talking the unabridged edition of Lives by Plutarch, a book bag brick of biographies published in 100AD. The content itself is nearly 2000 years old, but the biographies are of people who lived from 400 to 20 BC. It’s a heavy hardcover housing 1300 thin pages of small type.

Casper. June 2011. (This post might just be an excuse to post sexy pictures of my boy...which is ironic since it's supposedly about his intelligence...)

He reads – or, more notably, enjoysMcGregor Matthers’ notes on the Golden Dawn, an esoteric branch of Free Masonry; Israel Regardie’s notes and recordings of Alister Crowley’s Enochian material; and is deep into a thorough study of tarot and, in particular, the Golden Dawn tarot.

I have never met anyone who consumes as much media as he. Not just the aforementioned type of old, dry books, either. He reads at least a dozen news story online every day (or whenever he gets enough time online), watches several movies a week (mostly when I haven’t woken up or have already fallen asleep), and is always in the middle of multiple TV shows.

And he keeps it all in his head. He doesn’t have a photogenic memory; he can’t remember what everything he has seen looked like, but I’d say 95% of everything he reads he remembers in one form or another for the long term. I am so in awe of his intelligence. Not just that he is smart, but that he has honed and sharpened his particular smarts and then tracks down his passions and interests with that razor-edged encyclopedia brain of his.


St. Paul/Minneapolis: Leg #3

I’ve been feeling burdened by this blog as of late and I blame that on forcing myself to write about weeks past, trying to catch up. I have a few more posts like that queued up for the next few days, but I’m going to focus more on writing about today, this leg of the journey, the here and now. ‘Cause the here and now is pretty cool.

Since leaving Peggy’s, I’ve felt a definite sense of this being the third leg of the journey. Arriving and being in Chicago felt like the first; our time in Wisconsin – Milwaukee, Madison, Downing – felt like the second; and now, in the past few days, we’ve made the transition to the third leg.

Mostly, the shift was caused by a really awkward (and crappy) couch surfing experience.

I feel more empowered than I ever have to create the life I want to have. Casper keeps encouraging me, telling me that people really do like spending time around me. I often need reminded of this, particularly regarding people who I want to be friends with. Until now, I’ve pretty much just had lovers and acquaintances – another example (and there are many) of how I rely far too heavily on extremes, black and whites. Casper and I keep a count of “friends” I have: people who I like, who like me, and who I have established these facts with. A friend (apparently!) is someone who I don’t have to feel like a burden to, who I believe enjoys my company and who I have respect for. So far, I have four “friends” and it’s exhilarating! And new and exciting and empowering and validating.

I mention this because another part of our Twin City adventures so far has been reconnecting with my friend Mar, in unlikely and slightly unfortunate circumstances.


Downing: Staying with Peggy

My valley!

Peggy was an incredible host. She works nights and spends her days catching up on sleep and packing up her house. I honestly did not see her sit down the whole time we were there, except for half an hour when we first arrived.

She’s a busy bee. She’s a traveling nurse – working everywhere from Boston to Sacramento for a few months at a time – and has decided to rent out her house while she’s gone. The renters move in July 1 and she has years and years of life to pack up. We helped her out some with weeding and moving a big pile of rotting wood.

Me and Casper adopted a midnight to 9 or 10am sleep schedule – particularly nice since we’d been on a stretch of four and five hour nights. Peggy made sure we knew we could eat any of her food, go through her humungous garage sale pile, and generally make ourselves at home. It’s been such a huge relief for us to be able to settle in for a good week. I even brought my suitcase inside! I’ve never done that! We never stayed with anyone long enough to make it worth it.

Casper doing his morning stretches in our room at Peggy's.

Notable moments from our stay here:

  • Seeing four deer play in Peggy’s front yard. They were chasing each other around and having a grand old time!
  • Salem appearing after hours of absence with spider webs in his whiskers, ear whiskers, and eyebrows. Peggy thanked him for helping her clean up.
  • Visiting the Mabel Tainter. It’s where I went to church (Unitarian Universalist) growing up. I used to take the small path through the woods between our house and Peggy’s every Sunday and go to church with her and her kids. It’s a historic building and they’ve renovated it in the past few years. Casper was awe-struck.
  • Chess. In Madison, we found a $7 chess board on Craigslist and we’ve played four or five games since then. Casper is better than me, but it’s never a slaughter and I’m getting better. Our games – played on couches, in the car, in parks or in cafés – last about 45 minutes. I’ve always enjoyed chess but never had the attention span to really focus. I do now, though, and am so grateful that I can spend an hour with my brain locked in on the little wooden pieces.
  • Playing guitar on Peggy’s porch. My free Nashville guitar is staying in better tune these days and my mom sent me my music book! So much guitar playing. My fingers are getting calloused and I love it. My voice is getting better, too.
  • Visiting neighbors I grew up with. Our last evening, we went walking at dusk, when it was no longer 99 degrees out, and stopped in at Vicky and Terry’s. Only Terry was home and she gave us popsicles and then joined us on our walk down to Stephanie and Carol’s. They had visitors over – Craig and Lucy, who were part of our community out here and whose farm we used to milk cows at – and we all sat in their front yard and chatted. Their 7 year old kept us entertained with impossible riddles.

Standing in the middle of the street outside the Boyceville library.

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Downing: Hometown

Standing beside my hometown's population sign.

We arrived at Peggy’s on the 31st of May. A month on the road and we’ve made it home! Well, my home at least.

My family moved from Washington to Wisconsin in the early 90s, when I was a toddler. We moved out here with Peggy and her family. Her two kids are about the same age as my sister and I. We bought 80 acres of land from Jody and Kurt. They and their two sons became a huge part of our life. We lived several places for a few months at a time before we moved on to our land.

By that time, Peggy had gotten divorced and she and her ex each took ten acres of the land. My family took the 20 acres in between. Peggy lived in Boyceville, a nearby town of about 1000 people, before building a lovely house on her land and moving back to the country. Her kids were homeschooled at first but later went to Boyceville.

The view from Peggy's front porch, south towards the land I grew up on.

My family built our splendid home over many years, moving back to Washington in 2003 when the Lyme disease and winters got too bad. The house we built was far from normal; running on solar powered and having the fridge in the mudroom were the least of its unique features. We had a latrine; no hot water at the sink; a wood stove; unpainted walls; a claw foot bathtub; and electrical wiring on the outside of all the walls. It was home; it was a beautiful, glorious house.

And still is, actually. My family built that house by hand. It was the only house my parents’ have ever built and it is clear they learned construction as they went along. Since we left in 2003 – a traumatic move for all of us – we have all been back a few times, but no one has gone to see the house. A lady named Terra bought it and though we knew she was planning on farming and keeping the place strange and beautiful, none of us wanted to see our house changed.

But I did, this time around. Terra was gracious enough to let us wander her land as well as tour her house. It’s different now; very different. But I like it. It’s like I had to give up something very precious to me and give it to someone I didn’t know anything about; I didn’t even know her name back then. And now, eight years later, I discover that she has not only kept the heart and soul of the place alive, but that it is still just as unique, cozy and grand as when I left it.

It’s not my home now; not my house. But I’m not sad about that anymore.


Winona, Part II

A beautiful day in Winona, MN.

Casper woke up in the car in the McDonald’s parking lot in Winona around 9am. He joined me in McDonald’s and we talked a bit, found directions to a Walgreens for my meds and located the public library.

The Winona public library is the cutest thing I have seen in quite awhile. It has three or so levels – it’s hard to tell. There’s a basement and a second floor that lead off of the entrance on the ground floor. And there are books everywhere. Metal staircases tucked into corners lead to the different floors. The basement rooms, where fiction resides, look more like a book store than a library. So compact! So adorable!

The Winona public library.

We left Winona around 3pm and arrived in my hometown a couple hours later. Our first stop was the Acoustic Café, where I have been enjoying hoagies since before I could see over the counter. We got the corned beef hoagie, because that is what I always get, and a lemonade because Casper is a big lemonade fan and my sister loves their lemonade and she’s a connoisseur of the ‘ade as well.

Then we drove out into the boonies. We stopped along the road and played chess. Casper was freaked out by getting his first tick. Upon him winning (I’ve never beaten him, but I’m getting better), we drove a mile to the valley I grew up in. It was an exquisite day and the green and blues of the Wisconsin landscape were freakin’ out of the world. Perfectly blue, smooth sky with pure white clouds. I freakin’ love this part of the world.

We arrived at Peggy’s, hugged, unpacked, ate, talked, set up our bedroom, slept. Salem loves it here!


The Home Stretch

Today, Casper is out and about taking the car to the shop (for it’s second repair this week; luckily we have just enough money) and doing a computer gig for a guy who found us via Craigslist/this blog. I’m attempting to clean the apartment but some of it is just too nasty – clearly a Casper job.

Casper and I last week at the Free Store Food Bank.

I have managed to sort and pack a bunch of stuff. My desktop computer, Stu, will be out of commission on the trip, tucked away somewhere in the car. I am not looking forward to not having my own computer and am getting all my data ready to be transferred to a separate profile on Casper’s laptop.

Tomorrow, we will clean the apartment, the car will be repaired, we’ll take a massive load to Goodwill and then we’ll host a goodbye dinner for our previous roommates.

Saturday we pack up and…(oh man)…leave.

Toledo here we come!


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