Tomorrow we’re going to an onramp and heading out to the Ozarks. Neither of us has ever seen an Ozark before, but we’re going to find them and spend some time there. The idea is basically for us to get the city blown off of us, and for us to adjust to living on the road. That way when we get to each new place afterwards, it’ll be easier for us to really get there. I’ve found on other trips that if I come from the city, and I’m still keeping myself wrapped up in all its mental entanglements, it takes a while for me to really arrive anywhere else.
Misty and I had a great series of goodbye parties. One was a bonfire where most of the people we knew showed up, and we had lots of good conversations and threw decaying pumpkins out of the attic window.
I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months, or years, but of course, now that it comes time for it to start, I’m finding that I’m sad to be leaving this place. Minneapolis really has been so good to me, and I’ve made friends with so many good people. I’ll still know them, but I won’t have them in my life every day like I do now. I wish they’d all come live off the grid with me.
I’ve found myself in some deep melancholy the last few days to think this chapter is ending. And full of fear, for what comes next and whether I’m making the right choice and whether I shouldn’t just figure out some way for us to not-move-out, even though someone else is already about to move into our room and we’ve symbolically ripped out all the carpet from the room so that it’s no longer ours at all. Most of all I’ll miss everyone.
But it’s a consolation to know that I can still come back to visit and we’ll all be happy to see each other. I haven’t seen the last of Minneapolis. (Doubly so because we’re coming back for the May Day Parade on May 7th. I’ve lost track of how many things we’ve said we’re going to do on that visit back here. It’s going to epic, by these indications.)
In the end I think, as good as Minneapolis is, a city isn’t where my future needs to happen. And Misty feels the same. So we’re heading out. We’ll be safe (within reason), we’ll be responsible (mostly), and we’ll keep you posted
Misty and I had a great series of goodbye parties. One was a bonfire where most of the people we knew showed up, and we had lots of good conversations and threw decaying pumpkins out of the attic window.
I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months, or years, but of course, now that it comes time for it to start, I’m finding that I’m sad to be leaving this place. Minneapolis really has been so good to me, and I’ve made friends with so many good people. I’ll still know them, but I won’t have them in my life every day like I do now. I wish they’d all come live off the grid with me.
I’ve found myself in some deep melancholy the last few days to think this chapter is ending. And full of fear, for what comes next and whether I’m making the right choice and whether I shouldn’t just figure out some way for us to not-move-out, even though someone else is already about to move into our room and we’ve symbolically ripped out all the carpet from the room so that it’s no longer ours at all. Most of all I’ll miss everyone.
But it’s a consolation to know that I can still come back to visit and we’ll all be happy to see each other. I haven’t seen the last of Minneapolis. (Doubly so because we’re coming back for the May Day Parade on May 7th. I’ve lost track of how many things we’ve said we’re going to do on that visit back here. It’s going to epic, by these indications.)
In the end I think, as good as Minneapolis is, a city isn’t where my future needs to happen. And Misty feels the same. So we’re heading out. We’ll be safe (within reason), we’ll be responsible (mostly), and we’ll keep you posted
