Moving Forward, Looking Back
Well. About ten days ago I smooshed all my junk, three kids, two cats, and a hamster into my little Honda Fit at 6 am. I was reminded, while wrassling the toddler into her five point harness, of trying to squish toothpaste back into the tube. We set out. I had an incredulous feeling-- I know I am forgetting important things, I know I am doing this imperfectly. But I'm doing it anyway. A feeling of walking off of a cliff and hoping that your earnest and in depth study of Leonardo Da Vinci's flying machines will save you on the way down. The road was long and dark. The 6.5 hour push to Boise took about 6000 years. We didn't stop-- well, just once, to lift the bikes off the back of the car and check on the cats (unhappy, but drugged, thanks vet) and eat hummus and tortillas. And the next push, from Boise to our new home, was a fugue state. All weathers occurred, all landscapes blurred crazily through time like a slowmotion watercolor. Greening riverbottoms dried into bro...