And now we breathe (Jim)

I cannot say that the last couple of weeks of getting ready for this trip have been easy.  Despite months of preparation, the end came in a flurry of activity, including a crack of dawn closing day cleaning and moving frenzy that may or may not have required that I hide a sword and an owl-shaped salt dispenser somewhere in the house before the walk through (sorry, next owners, I forgot to put 'hidden sword' in the disclosure.  It is out of toddler reach anyway). 

And then there was the 'organization' attempt in storing the possessions we decided to keep in my parents' basement, right beside the coal pile and some electronics from the 70's.  When viewed in one big pile for the first time, it was a truly shocking amount of stuff for a couple that are kind of assholes about being proud about not having a lot of stuff.  (More thoughts on the Tyranny of Stuff to follow in a future condescending blog post, but I'm staying non-existential at the moment.  You are welcome.)

 But at the end of the day, the long weekend included a successful integration of our cat into my parent's household, some quality time with my patient and fully supportive family (right guys?), and catching up with numerous long lost friends and some old school rowdiness that may or may not have ended poorly for a boat.

Can you identify the boat in this picture?

And now, we reap the benefits of half assed planning.  Due to the incredible generosity of an acquaintance of Lindsay's, we will not be spending the first two plus weeks of this trip roughing it in a camper.  Instead, we will be enjoying a gorgeous vacation home in the middle of the White Mounains.  We cannot thank this individual enough.  It occurs to me as I sit here looking out at a beautiful vista with a hot cup of coffee that although the Whites are among my favorite part of the planet, between the travel time and the gas money and the burdens of life, I have only ever made it up here an average of two or three days a year for the past fifteen years.  In the next two weeks, I can do more than I have in the last decade - this is a true gift.  Oh, and it is a plus to not have to incorporate four hours round trip of driving for a day of hiking.

And I don't have to camp in a Wal-Mart parking lot to do it.

So here we go. 

*exhale*

I guess that's a bit scenic

A new life should always start with an old tradition (Lindsay)

When we determined May 24th to be our closing date for the house, I was ecstatic to then realize we'd begin this trip with our annual "Hicktown weekend of debauchery".  You see, each Memorial Day, many of our friends gather together for three days of camping, eating, drinking and hilariously inappropriate bonding.  Some years the weather blesses us with 80 degree days and clear nights where we stumble to our tents at the wee hours of the morning and awaken to a campfire breakfast and strong coffee to prepare our livers for the next day.

This year we weren't going to let the freezing temperatures and rain stop us.  I put on long underwear and my sturdy hiking boots, grabbed the beer and the boy and made my way to our little slice of wooded heaven.  I can't tell you where Hicktown is because when this blog goes viral, it would attract too many strangers but any of the country folk out there can reference their own Hicktowns for a general idea.  Ya know, muddy farmer's field winds through the countryside until you see 43 massive pickup trucks, an enormous bon fire and hear the screaming and laughing. 

It is a place where inhibitions go to die.  No makeup required but wear a decent pair of underwear because you will inevitably be running (mostly or completely) naked through the woods with someone you met only hours before.  When the boys start shooting beer cans off a tree at 6pm you know it will be a long night.  Always watch what you drink because what appears as iced tea is probably moonshine.  Try to manage your dog because she will jump up on the table when you are properly inebriated, grab the pig's head and drag it through the sand.  And think twice before slapping your friend across the face with your flip flop (for no reason whatsoever - just seemed like a good idea) because his lip will split open and blood will fly everywhere.  In fact, think twice before everything.  Or don't.  Definitely don't.

But aside from the wackiness it is also a place to take note and reconnect with friends.  Memorial Day has served as our touchstone for the paths we have all taken.  Friends who were single and crazy six years ago are now loving (and crazy) parents.  Everyone has a dog now and the farmer who lets us use his property is older but still kicking all of our young asses in the energy department.

I am grateful to have this send off from friends and to say goodbye in inappropriate ways.

Mostly, I'm just grateful to be unemployed so I can fully recover from this hangover.

"There's a place I know about where the dirt road runs out
And we can try out the four-wheel drive
Come on now what do you say
Girl, I can hardly wait to get a little mud on the tires. "
Brad Paisley

Change IS hard (Lindsay)

Tomorrow we will check off one of the harder parts of our to-do list.  No, it's not leaving our empty home that we've shared for four years, it's not saying goodbye to our neighbors or giving a heartfelt departure speech to Ezekial, the resident toad.  It's bringing Jazz, our 16 year old cat, to her foster home. 

Jazz's story is a good one. (insofar as shelter animal stories are good)  She came into the shelter at the spry age of ten - I no longer remember the reason why.  She had lived with a single woman her whole life, never meeting other cats and with zero experience living with a dog.  We determined her healthy and put her in a cage to see if someone would take her.  Weeks went by without any interest.  She would hiss at the other cats in the shelter, cower from the dogs and swat at the passersby. 

I wasn't overly attached to her until I decided to test my new found cat handling skills in a volunteer training by choosing her for my demo of the traditional "place angry cat in carrier" maneuver.  When I reached in, expecting her to take my hand off, she simply blinked, meowed and went into the carrier and I became what we shelter people call, her "advocate".  But even with my support ("Hey, would you consider this girl over here?"), the months went on.  Scratch and bite quarantines were a part of her stay as was her increasing stress. ("Where is my bed?  Where is my mom?")

Around the 4th or 5th quarantine, my friend and coworker looked at me and said, "I'm not sure it's humane for us to keep housing her here."  I asked her to give me a few weeks to figure out an alternative knowing there was only one.  My mom's phone rang and I said, "Hey, do you want a cat?"  "No", she replied.  But then I told the above story and she begrudgingly said okay.  So after 13 months in the shelter, I drove Jazz four hours to NY, met my mom at a Denny's in a sketchy plaza, had lunch and put her in the car with a small warning to be careful when she opened the carrier back at home.  (Who says you need to meet an animal before you adopt anyway???)

Jazz adjusted beautifully - no scratching, no biting - and became an amazing companion.  Clearly the shelter environment had caused her aggression.  Fast forward a few years and to a tearful scene where my cat, Zoe, had once again pissed all over the new furniture and once again, the phone call to mom.  "Can you take Zoe?"  "No", she replied.  "I would take Jazz."  "Oh, alright" she once again answered.  So, I got in my car and drove halfway to her house, met her in a sketchy parking lot, gave her my two cats and took Jazz back.  And once again, she adjusted beautifully (no thanks to Keira who spent weeks trying to take her down - more on dealing with prey drive in a future blog).

So for the past three years we've shared our home and hearts with our beloved old lady.  When we first planned this trip, we considered waiting until she died which, as a FYI, is a morbid way to plan.  But this cat Will. Never. Die.  Seriously the healthiest creature I've ever seen.  Recent bloodwork showed the organs of a seven year old.  So we made the decision to follow our dream even though it meant asking her to adjust again.  But I know she'll be just fine - with the best foster parents we could find, a warm wood stove and her power of attorney in the house next door.

I hope Jazz's story teaches people to give the not-so-adoptable animals at the shelter a chance.  I know, I know...you want kittens and adult cats who don't bite and scratch you - you're sooooo picky! But the next time you're in the search for a new cat, go to your local shelter and ask the staff which animal has been there the longest and ask them why they think that is.  Most of the time, it's simply because an animal doesn't "show" well (because our culture has asked them to perform beautifully in a cage if they are to be chosen - sad eyes, approaching the front of the cage, purring in the visiting room - because I'm sure all of us would perform so perfectly if the tables were turned).  So be brave and next time pick the senior cat who is hissing and spitting at you.  All it takes is a little faith and a spot on the couch and just like that, you've saved a life.

Purr on, my misunderstood girl.  See you soon.

"Lots of people talk to animals.... Not very many listen, though.... That's the problem."
Benjamin Hoff

   

 

Umm, where's my bed? (Keira)

It began a few weeks ago.  Things randomly disappearing only to be replaced by things I've never seen before but get yelled at for trying to eat.  (If you don't want the antique picture frame in my mouth, don't put it on the floor.  Didn't I teach you that years ago?)  I keep waiting for them to close the cat into one of the many boxes she jumps into but I've come to realize that's a dream that may never come true. 

I've been feeling a bit left out so two nights ago I started vomiting every two hours on the bedroom carpet.  Mom finally started leaping out of bed to throw me on the tile - it's amazing the strength she has in the middle of the night. (I should know since I've spent the past four years getting stepped on while she sleepwalks somewhere in the house). 

Well, I'm not really sure what's happening but I am looking forward to the day they forget to close the door to the office where all these items are strewn about - boy, oh boy, the fun I will have then.  Easy enough to blame the cat for these kinds of things...

And so it begins indeed (Jim)

Well.  That awkward moment when a ridiculous plan is executed with shocking and horrifying precision.  Although we have been talking about, saving, planning, and even making virgin sacrifices to the gods for years now to turn this dream into a reality, it is with a good amount of disbelief that we actually find ourselves here in this moment, ready to spend the next year or so on the road, unemployed, and unshowered.

Now that the to-do list is complete, we will begin the interesting transition into making every attempt to have no to-do list; to take life day by day and moment by moment.  I am excited to share pictures and stories of beautiful places, amusing interactions with the silly yet strangely lovable partner of mine, and the inevitable mistakes which are wretched at the time and hilarious after the bond is posted.  You can also expect a certain amount of sanctimonious preachy bullshit as I begin to fancy myself as a modern day Thoreau after spending about a week or so without cable.

Stay posted!

And so it begins (Lindsay)

And here it is.  After four years of daydreams, quiet reflection and aggressive money saving, it has arrived.  It, of course, refers to our fantasy of leaving it all behind to seek out a more simplified life.  One without jobs, mortgages, car payments or regular bathing.  In time we will each describe how we came to this moment (both theoretically and financially) but for now, let's relish in the simple moments of this Monday.  The random snapping turtle helping us pack the truck camper, the vomiting dog and the start of this day as it always should be: running on a trail.  A trail I've run hundreds of times and one I will miss dearly.  But alas, that is the point.  To leave it behind - and you can't leave the stressful and tedious without simultaneously leaving the sentimental - to find new moments and memories.

Today I am grateful for a Monday that didn't start a work week and to share what will inevitably be a life-changing journey with my beloved and...my boyfriend.

“There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it.” 

Charles Dudley Warner