..... all the way across South Dakota. This morning we were in Rapid City, SD, which is in the southwestern part of the state and tonite we've pulled up to Sioux Falls, which is in the southeastern part of the state. The Swanson family farm was in Montrose, which is about 20 miles outside of Sioux Falls. When they sold the farm, our grandparents moved to Salem, SD, which is also about 20 or so miles away. All the Swanson girls (4 of them) went to Augustana College, which is about 4 miles from our hotel. Madison, SD is about 30 miles north of where we are now, and we will head there tomorrow morning to see our Aunt Mae, who is 91 years old and, from what we hear, doing quite well. There were three cousins all born the same year -- our Mother, Aunt Maudie, and Aunt Mae. They grew up together on neighboring farms and were quite close. Now only Auntie Mae is left. I'm really looking forward to seeing her and hoping that she can give us directions to and information about the farm. If it's still standing, I'd love to see it. The other thing on our docket for tomorrow is to take some of Aunt Ruthie's ashes to Augustana College where she was a minor-celebrity alumnus.
About an hour out of Rapid City we stopped in Wall, South Dakota at the famous Wall Drug store. It's a big tourist destination, filled with every kind of souvenir, pharmacy item, and trinket you can imagine. Free coffee for veterans and 5 cent coffee for the rest of us. We found the "Big" things in Wall to take our pictures with -- a 12 foot tall jackalope and an 80 foot tall dinosaur. Carol did manage to find a really nice black hills gold ring for herself and I got some trinkets for the grandboys. We got gas and then were on our way. There really isn't much to see on this drive -- the black hills are behind and the badlands are to the south. Lots and lots of grassland is what lays in the middle of the state between west and east.
Carol drove several hours again today, giving me a chance to rest my eyes and get in a cat nap. One thing we have noticed is that the rest stops in South Dakota are very nice and clean. They also have large, nice grassy areas in which to exercise pets, so Sailor has had three happy ball catching sessions today. He continues to be incredibly well-behaved and easy. He did not like the elevator ride this evening tho. He flattened himself against the floor and looked at me like "Mom, what's happening??? The floor's moving!" I'm sure he'll get used to it soon enough as our condo in Indy is on the 7th floor.
The only other notable thing is that I FINALLY got a wonderful full plate of veggies. The out-to- eat choices over the last days have been slim-pickins for good food for me, and I was beginning to feel greens starved. We found a great Hotwire price on the Sheraton here next to the airport and I managed to get the restaurant to make me a big bowl of sauteed broccoli, green beans, squash, onion, and red bell peppers. I looked beautiful and tasted delicious.
Sailor has decided he likes hotel beds, so I will need to go now and skooch him over so I can rest my own weary head. At 80 pounds, he's not easy to skooch. Sweet dreams to us all.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Paha Sapa (Lakota Sioux for The Hills that are Black)
We got started later this morning than previous travel days and both Carol and I were grateful for the extra sleep time. After a leisurely breakfast of the surprisingly yummy hot food at the HI Express, we headed out for Mt. Rushmore, which turned out to be only 2 miles from the hotel. It was sunny for part of our time there and snowed sideways again for the remainder. Funny climates here in the Spring. Mt. Rushmore was fantastic -- the four Presidents look down from their rock perch over a valley filled with more rock and coniferous trees. Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt, and Jefferson were carved by dynamite and chisel during the time when my parents were babies. We saw a film about the making of the monument, toured the visitor center, walked around a bit in the wind and cold, took some pictures, and sprinted back to the car to warm up. I overheard a guide say that there are over 3 million visitors to Mt. Rushmore during the summer season. I'm glad we are here early even tho many hotels and restaurants and shops are not even open yet. May 1st, or for some, Mother's Day, marks the beginning of tourist season.
Sailor had his debut as an official Service Dog and he performed as if he'd been doing this his whole life. We took him along for the day, and I put his vest on him when we entered the park. No pets are allowed in the area, but no one challenged me or him as he calmly stayed by my side. At one point I was wearing my sunglasses outside and it became apparent that people thought I was blind. It was actually kind of funny and interesting. People made comments about how beautiful Sailor is and how he was "working" so they shouldn't distract him. Little kids, however, had no qualms about asking to pet him and he treated it all with aplomb. I was extraordinarily proud of the Boy, and he seemed to thrive during his work day.
After Mt. Rushmore, we decided to drive a bit through Custer State Park. Mt. Rushmore is in the Black Hills National Forest, and the state park next to it is where curvy roads with hairpin turns give opportunity for a slow meander through trees, over one lane bridges, and through one car tiny tunnels. We went in search of buffalo and were not disappointed. After about a 40 minute journey we came upon an open area where there were a dozen BIG bison grazing, one quite close to the road. He was about the size of our SUV. Magnificent. I took pictures (from the car) while Carol looked a little green around the gills -- this beast was on her side of the car and I rolled the window down so I could get good shots. She didn't scream or panic when he looked her in the eye -- his eye was about 10 times the size of her eye. We rolled up the windows and rolled away slowly. It's wild to imagine what it would be like to be in a thundering herd of these amazing creatures.
On our way out of the Black Hills (so named because the pine needles look black from a distance), we pulled over on a "closed" road near a small rock outcropping. I got out my Native American Flute and played a bit. Carol got out our Mother's old Lutheran Book for Prayer and read the prayer for After a Death -- "Amid our tears, O Lord, we praise Thee as Thou has received our loved one to Thyself for all eternity...." and then we scattered some of our dear Aunt Ruthie's ashes in her beloved Black Hills. This was something she'd asked me to do for her many years before she died, and I was pleased I could fulfill today the promise I'd made. Carol and I both deeply loved our Aunt Ruthie (our Mother's youngest sister and the last to die of the 5 siblings). Our Scandinavian grandparents homesteaded a farm on the eastern side of the state (where we're headed tomorrow) and altho the Sioux Falls area was "home" for all the Swanson kids, our Aunt Ruth always spoke so lovingly about the Black Hills and the time she spent in Western South Dakota working or vacationing. Aunt Ruth had been born in 1925, schooled as a nurse at Augustana College (a stop for us on Monday after we drive east), went on to get her Master's in Psychiatric Nursing at Rutgers, and then another Master's and her PhD at New York University where she was a professor for more than a decade. She referred to herself as a small town farm girl who'd gone to the big city for adventure. She modeled many a fine quality for me and I miss her still. Today a part of her returned to the earth of the forest she loved. Rest in peace, Lois Ruth Ardis Swanson. Rest in peace.
After our busy day in the National and State parks, we found a place to get a bite to eat, walked around the (currently) sleepy town of Keystone a while, and came back to the hotel to relax and try to warm up. It was 38 today and it is supposed to be 80 by Tuesday. Even tho much of the day was peppered with snow or rain showers, I still managed to get some color -- my face is pink from the South Dakota sun. I feel my ancestors close here, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my Mother. Tomorrow we travel to ground zero, the place where Anne Erickson and Reynold August Swanson farmed and raised their family of five. Each of these five raised children of their own, and now those children have had children and those children have had children. With my grandparents gone and my parents having passed, it is now my sister and I who stand in line as the next generation to go. This doesn't make me maudlin or sad -- it seems only to reinforce the truth of the passing of time and the way of Life. It is my hope that it will be many years yet before someone will be scattering my ashes in a forest or near an ocean, and the truth about it is that it WILL happen. Somehow, this evening, in this beautiful and sometimes stark and ancient feeling locale, I find comfort in this.
Sailor had his debut as an official Service Dog and he performed as if he'd been doing this his whole life. We took him along for the day, and I put his vest on him when we entered the park. No pets are allowed in the area, but no one challenged me or him as he calmly stayed by my side. At one point I was wearing my sunglasses outside and it became apparent that people thought I was blind. It was actually kind of funny and interesting. People made comments about how beautiful Sailor is and how he was "working" so they shouldn't distract him. Little kids, however, had no qualms about asking to pet him and he treated it all with aplomb. I was extraordinarily proud of the Boy, and he seemed to thrive during his work day.
After Mt. Rushmore, we decided to drive a bit through Custer State Park. Mt. Rushmore is in the Black Hills National Forest, and the state park next to it is where curvy roads with hairpin turns give opportunity for a slow meander through trees, over one lane bridges, and through one car tiny tunnels. We went in search of buffalo and were not disappointed. After about a 40 minute journey we came upon an open area where there were a dozen BIG bison grazing, one quite close to the road. He was about the size of our SUV. Magnificent. I took pictures (from the car) while Carol looked a little green around the gills -- this beast was on her side of the car and I rolled the window down so I could get good shots. She didn't scream or panic when he looked her in the eye -- his eye was about 10 times the size of her eye. We rolled up the windows and rolled away slowly. It's wild to imagine what it would be like to be in a thundering herd of these amazing creatures.
On our way out of the Black Hills (so named because the pine needles look black from a distance), we pulled over on a "closed" road near a small rock outcropping. I got out my Native American Flute and played a bit. Carol got out our Mother's old Lutheran Book for Prayer and read the prayer for After a Death -- "Amid our tears, O Lord, we praise Thee as Thou has received our loved one to Thyself for all eternity...." and then we scattered some of our dear Aunt Ruthie's ashes in her beloved Black Hills. This was something she'd asked me to do for her many years before she died, and I was pleased I could fulfill today the promise I'd made. Carol and I both deeply loved our Aunt Ruthie (our Mother's youngest sister and the last to die of the 5 siblings). Our Scandinavian grandparents homesteaded a farm on the eastern side of the state (where we're headed tomorrow) and altho the Sioux Falls area was "home" for all the Swanson kids, our Aunt Ruth always spoke so lovingly about the Black Hills and the time she spent in Western South Dakota working or vacationing. Aunt Ruth had been born in 1925, schooled as a nurse at Augustana College (a stop for us on Monday after we drive east), went on to get her Master's in Psychiatric Nursing at Rutgers, and then another Master's and her PhD at New York University where she was a professor for more than a decade. She referred to herself as a small town farm girl who'd gone to the big city for adventure. She modeled many a fine quality for me and I miss her still. Today a part of her returned to the earth of the forest she loved. Rest in peace, Lois Ruth Ardis Swanson. Rest in peace.
After our busy day in the National and State parks, we found a place to get a bite to eat, walked around the (currently) sleepy town of Keystone a while, and came back to the hotel to relax and try to warm up. It was 38 today and it is supposed to be 80 by Tuesday. Even tho much of the day was peppered with snow or rain showers, I still managed to get some color -- my face is pink from the South Dakota sun. I feel my ancestors close here, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my Mother. Tomorrow we travel to ground zero, the place where Anne Erickson and Reynold August Swanson farmed and raised their family of five. Each of these five raised children of their own, and now those children have had children and those children have had children. With my grandparents gone and my parents having passed, it is now my sister and I who stand in line as the next generation to go. This doesn't make me maudlin or sad -- it seems only to reinforce the truth of the passing of time and the way of Life. It is my hope that it will be many years yet before someone will be scattering my ashes in a forest or near an ocean, and the truth about it is that it WILL happen. Somehow, this evening, in this beautiful and sometimes stark and ancient feeling locale, I find comfort in this.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota
Traveled through three big states today. Left Billings this morning at 9:30 and pulled up to our hotel in Keystone, South Dakota at 4:30 pm. Dead tired. Again. We will stay put for two nights now in this Holiday Inn Express, and I'm sooo glad to not have to drive any long distance tomorrow. My hip is screaming and I am stretching it, Sailor sleeps at our feet, Carol is busily at work on her computer (talking to the screen as she is wont to do). Once we'd checked in (nice, spacious room btw) we went to a little restaurant down the street (Ruby House). It continues to be a challenge to find the right kinds of lean (proteins) and greens (veggies) for my diet, but I settled on trout with a serving of broccoli and a green side salad. Since I've learned a lot about cooking fish in the last year, I was a bit disappointed in the trout (too dry, too well done) but I was hungry and ate the whole thing. Carol said her steak was tasty. We both declined drinks and desserts and took the dog for a walk after dinner. It was nice to be out and about on our feet and for it to be dry, altho cold.
It was raining hard when we left Billings and windy, windy, windy. It rained during almost the entire drive, and when it wasn't raining, it was SNOWING. Yes, snowing. We stopped in a town in Wyoming called Gillette and I think, without exaggeration, we could say we were caught in a blizzard. We got gas there and during the time I was filling the tank I got completely soaked by sideways blowing wet snow. I have mostly short sleeved shirts, flip flops, and capris in my suitcase. Luckily I brought my gore-tex rain jacket. We hear its supposed to rain for the next few days, but at least the temps will be in the 50's. The woman at the store in Wyoming said they can have all four seasons in one day. I believe it.
My mind was occupied most of the day with trying to drive safely in wild weather. When I did muse on other things, I marveled at the hardiness of early settlers who crossed these high passes and windy plains in something much less comfortable than a Lexus SUV. I wondered about what the people's lives are like in the small towns that sit along the freeway. I sang "Home on the Range" silently in my head. I thought about my friends and family, and sent them love. My friend Pat and I are writing road warrior poetry by text. She sends me a line and then I send her one. This is from today --
Pat -- These wild mountain streams
Me -- Muddy, swift and cold
Pat -- Tenderly open my heart
Me -- And drown my sorrows.
Our plan is to sleep in tomorrow, see Mt. Rushmore, go poke around Rapid City, and scatter some of Aunt Ruthie's ashes in the Black Hills. Maybe the plan will be fulfilled. Maybe not. This the desert taught me -- be open to change of plan. And so I shall be.
Sweet dreams.
It was raining hard when we left Billings and windy, windy, windy. It rained during almost the entire drive, and when it wasn't raining, it was SNOWING. Yes, snowing. We stopped in a town in Wyoming called Gillette and I think, without exaggeration, we could say we were caught in a blizzard. We got gas there and during the time I was filling the tank I got completely soaked by sideways blowing wet snow. I have mostly short sleeved shirts, flip flops, and capris in my suitcase. Luckily I brought my gore-tex rain jacket. We hear its supposed to rain for the next few days, but at least the temps will be in the 50's. The woman at the store in Wyoming said they can have all four seasons in one day. I believe it.
My mind was occupied most of the day with trying to drive safely in wild weather. When I did muse on other things, I marveled at the hardiness of early settlers who crossed these high passes and windy plains in something much less comfortable than a Lexus SUV. I wondered about what the people's lives are like in the small towns that sit along the freeway. I sang "Home on the Range" silently in my head. I thought about my friends and family, and sent them love. My friend Pat and I are writing road warrior poetry by text. She sends me a line and then I send her one. This is from today --
Pat -- These wild mountain streams
Me -- Muddy, swift and cold
Pat -- Tenderly open my heart
Me -- And drown my sorrows.
Our plan is to sleep in tomorrow, see Mt. Rushmore, go poke around Rapid City, and scatter some of Aunt Ruthie's ashes in the Black Hills. Maybe the plan will be fulfilled. Maybe not. This the desert taught me -- be open to change of plan. And so I shall be.
Sweet dreams.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
BIG SKY Montana
Holy Moly, Montana is BIG. Drove all day from Missoula to Billings (350 + miles) under a big sky filled with every different kind of cloud imaginable. It drizzled, it rained, the sun shone, the wind blew and blew. I've discovered that when you're driving 80 miles an hour and catch a fierce side wind, it takes some strength to keep the car on the road. Luckily there was little or no other traffic, so our travels were unimpeded. Can say, however, that several hundred bugs lost their lives on our windshield and in retribution left their sticky guts all over the car. Carol has become adept at washing them off during gas stops. We also picked up another rock chip. Good thing we didn't get the new windshield installed before the trip.
I loved the scenery today. Big trees, full and raging rivers. We must have bridged over a waterway called the Clark Fork a dozen times. Cattle, sheep, horses. Snow on the mountain tops. We crossed the continental divide and climbed to an elevation of just over 6300 feet. I wondered if we were gaining elevation even before I checked the garmin or saw signs -- at about 4,000 feet my head starts to feel as if my brain is getting sqoozed. As I've aged I've become less and less tolerant of higher altitudes and a headache is usually my first symptom.
Sailor has been a trooper. I threw the ball for him this morning in the Montana rain. We both got soaked - one of us was happy. We've had no trouble in hotels. I've told them at check-in that I have a Service Dog with me and it's been no problem. He's incredibly well-behaved and altho I can tell he's not thrilled with the long hours in the car, he's as sweet as ever. Tonite he got some of my Costco canned salmon (thanks Michele for the great can opener) and some of Carol's pizza, so he's got lots to wag his tail about. We've booked the last two nights on Hotwire and gotten great Wyndham hotels for bargain prices. I just booked the next two nights in Keystone, South Dakota at a Holiday Inn Express that gets great reviews on Trip Advisor. We've a long drive ahead of us tomorrow (approx 400 miles), so staying put for two nights once we get there sounds very attractive. We will get to see Mt. Rushmore and scatter some of Aunt Ruthie's ashes in the Black Hills.
Today I was tired. Really, really tired. I drove in the morning and into the afternoon -- Carol spelled me and took a driving shift for a couple of hours while I rested my eyes. We stopped for gas just before Billings and now have been relaxing in the hotel room. This hotel actually isn't a Wyndham any more, but was until recently. It's called the Big Horn Resort, but it was listed at the Big Hron Resort on Hotwire. Made me laugh and think of Icelandic, where the major road around Iceland is called the Hring road. Water parks seem to be the attraction for Montana hotels, and Big Hron has a big indoor water park. I'm too tired to slide, paddle, or tread water, so to avoid drowning I left my swimsuit in the car. Is it only yesterday that we left Pasco?
It was nice to skype Ingi this evening. He even managed to get Miss Belle on camera, and it was soothing to me to see her. I tried to get Sailor on camera too, but he was busy with his nap so all Ingi got to see was a sleeping dog. Speaking of, it's time for me to take the Boy out for his last potty break and head to bed myself. Did I mention how tired I am?
See you in my dreams.....
I loved the scenery today. Big trees, full and raging rivers. We must have bridged over a waterway called the Clark Fork a dozen times. Cattle, sheep, horses. Snow on the mountain tops. We crossed the continental divide and climbed to an elevation of just over 6300 feet. I wondered if we were gaining elevation even before I checked the garmin or saw signs -- at about 4,000 feet my head starts to feel as if my brain is getting sqoozed. As I've aged I've become less and less tolerant of higher altitudes and a headache is usually my first symptom.
Sailor has been a trooper. I threw the ball for him this morning in the Montana rain. We both got soaked - one of us was happy. We've had no trouble in hotels. I've told them at check-in that I have a Service Dog with me and it's been no problem. He's incredibly well-behaved and altho I can tell he's not thrilled with the long hours in the car, he's as sweet as ever. Tonite he got some of my Costco canned salmon (thanks Michele for the great can opener) and some of Carol's pizza, so he's got lots to wag his tail about. We've booked the last two nights on Hotwire and gotten great Wyndham hotels for bargain prices. I just booked the next two nights in Keystone, South Dakota at a Holiday Inn Express that gets great reviews on Trip Advisor. We've a long drive ahead of us tomorrow (approx 400 miles), so staying put for two nights once we get there sounds very attractive. We will get to see Mt. Rushmore and scatter some of Aunt Ruthie's ashes in the Black Hills.
Today I was tired. Really, really tired. I drove in the morning and into the afternoon -- Carol spelled me and took a driving shift for a couple of hours while I rested my eyes. We stopped for gas just before Billings and now have been relaxing in the hotel room. This hotel actually isn't a Wyndham any more, but was until recently. It's called the Big Horn Resort, but it was listed at the Big Hron Resort on Hotwire. Made me laugh and think of Icelandic, where the major road around Iceland is called the Hring road. Water parks seem to be the attraction for Montana hotels, and Big Hron has a big indoor water park. I'm too tired to slide, paddle, or tread water, so to avoid drowning I left my swimsuit in the car. Is it only yesterday that we left Pasco?
It was nice to skype Ingi this evening. He even managed to get Miss Belle on camera, and it was soothing to me to see her. I tried to get Sailor on camera too, but he was busy with his nap so all Ingi got to see was a sleeping dog. Speaking of, it's time for me to take the Boy out for his last potty break and head to bed myself. Did I mention how tired I am?
See you in my dreams.....
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Letting go....
Here's a little background for any gentle reader.... My husband Ingi and I moved from Portland, Oregon in 2009 to the Tricities area of Eastern Washington. The move to a new job and a new locale was precipitated by the unhappy circumstance that the company for which Ingi had been working was being disassembled piece by piece. An attractive offer arose from a group based in the Tricities, affording Ingi the opportunity to work on a project that he had hoped would both benefit his employer and give him some creative expression in the field of transportation. For a number of reasons, this project has now morphed into something that looks different from the original concept, and something that is even still in process. My brave hoosbondi has teamed with a colleague in Indianapolis, Indiana, and the two of them are marching forth with their good idea, their many contacts, their hopes, and their combined experience to give birth to this "start-up". I am along for the ride.
The last 4 weeks have been intense. I can't think of any other word that more accurately describes this time. I have been on my feet from morning 'till evening -- organizing, cleaning, packing, hosting a garage sale, taking items to Good Will, etc. For those of you who know me well, you are aware of my long term conflicted relationship with my "stuff". I've gathered stuff, bought and collected stuff, inherited stuff, and, as I see now in retrospect, almost drowned myself in stuff. As an Army brat, home was always where your STUFF was, as we moved almost yearly and home was never associated with geography, neighborhood, or any particular structure. So I became accustomed to attaching to stuff. I am pleased to say that this phase in my life is shifting to the lighter, and with the courage it takes to let go and with the help of good, generous friends, I have bid adieu to over half my stuff. When we moved to the TriCities, it took two 22 ft trucks and multiple car and pick up truck loads to haul our stuff. Last Saturday we filled (yes, to the brim) one single 28 foot freight trailer with all our worldly goods. As I write this blog, our stuff is most probably on a train somewhere in the west, headed for delivery to Indianapolis on May first. I hope the date is auspicious and refers to the joy akin to May day flowers and welcome baskets my Mother taught me to leave on neighbor's doors. The other reference would be the drama of an emergent "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" call. I hope that this adventure will be much more about flower power than 911 trauma.
Ingi has gone ahead to Indiana to continue setting up his office and create and grow the business. Last Sunday after our trailer was loaded up, he flew from Pasco, Washington through Denver to Indianapolis with our calico cat, Belle, tucked into her cat carrier. It was an epic journey for Bella, contained in a cage for 11 hours. We are happy to report that she survived the experience and is now stretching her legs in the upstairs studio apartment at the home of Ingi's business partner and his wife. Don't you think it's amazingly generous of them to temporarily house both my husband and our cat? Soon Ingi will be able to move to our very own rented condo, but until then we are dependent, once again, on the sweetness of friends and family. This recent time in my life has several themes -- one about letting go, another about learning to be the gracious beneficiary of extraordinary kindness and generosity. I can't say that either lesson has come easily to me, but I can say that I see great benefit in both.
My beloved sister Carol has joined me on this drive. She, and I, and my Golden Retriever Sailor are packed into the SUV. I definitely have not conquered the minimalist life style to which I now aspire, so sadly have to report that there is still too much "stuff" in the car, but I think we will travel safely and well stocked -- we have food for humans and dog and medicine and clothes and computers and water and blankets and pillows and hope and laughter and good stories and bonhomie. Today we left the TriCities and drove to Missoula, Montana. It was around 350 miles, and took us about 6 hours, driving easily in great spring weather, stopping often at rest stops to exercise the dog and our own legs. Carol flew in from San Francisco, so she was in four states today -- California, Washington, Idaho, and now Montana. She snores lightly as I write, tired from an early morning and the day of travel. We talked as sisters can, jumping from topics of our shared histories to current work situations, childhood antics and thoughts about the future. She presented me with a treasure she had been keeping in a drawer -- our mother's high school graduation ring. What a lovely gift. So now on the forth finger of my right hand is a modest ring from Montrose (South Dakota) High School from 1938, EMS (Evelyn Mae Swanson). She is with us. When I left this morning I was also gifted with a key chain with pictures of my heart mates Pat and Michele. They are with us. Carol's kids texted us, friends facebooked or called, Ingi checked in several times by phone, Bobi gave us a tiny dashboard flower vase filled with purple blooms to cheer our drive. They are all with us. And isn't this the way it is? We are never really alone, but carry the good wishes and energies of our loved ones in our minds and hearts. As I write in this Montana hotel, I am aware of how blessed and rich I feel.
Reflection has settled me down. It was not difficult to say good bye to the desert as I am not fond of the climate or the environment. It is VERY wrenching to say good bye to the excellent tribe of women I found there -- a cohort of talented, beautiful, smart, and funny beings. I sense the band of connection stretching even more between myself and my Portland friends and family, yet I know that this is an elastic band, and it WILL stretch but not break. I practiced QiGong this morning before I left Richland and the jolt of physical energy that I am beginning to experience when I do QiGong created a disconcerting feeling as if my innerds were being whirred in a blender. The sensation lasted a few hours, before and through dinner, subsiding gradually as I've stilled myself and written. At first I thought my blood sugar had plummeted, but I tested it and it was fine. This is energy, pure and complex in it's experience. Any of you who have learned or are learning any form of martial art or body/energetic work know these sensations. I am just beginning to feel and breathe into what it means to consciously move energy, and it is quite a surprise. Yes, change is afoot. Growth is happening, and my own development mirrors the spurts of the spring season. Physical, emotional, relational, mental, and spiritual housecleaning and clearing has taken me by storm. The lightening show that descended upon the TriCities in the days before I left feels now like omen, like a wild and naturally occurring phenomenon from which I can extrapolate meaning and value pertinent to my own human story. I sat on my friend Pat's outdoor deck as lightening danced in the night sky, giving zaps of momentary illumination. Small pellets of rain, low, faint thunder, strong electrical sky currents, jagged and frightening yet not frightening. The storm blew through, leaving us tousled and whirled about. I hear the message -- let go, let go, let go. The wind will take it. Be not afraid. Breathe. Go with the flow. Today I've let go some more, driven fast (75 mph is the speed limit through much of Montana), connected, disconnected, MOVED. What do I leave behind? What lies ahead?
So this blog is about this journey to Indiana, yet as you can see it's about so much more than just moving from one state to another, from one city to the next. As with any journey, the path leads in both directions, past and future. I hope to write nightly about my thoughts and experiences, using the evening hours to reflect and share. If you care to, join me. Comment. Or not. By writing, I feel I am taking you with me, my dear friends and family. I think of you as I compose. By reading, you participate in the experience, lending your time and energy to this adventure. I hope I enjoy the ride. I hope you do too.
I look forward to tomorrow's drive. Big Sky country. Our destination is Billings, another 300 plus miles day.
Be well.
The last 4 weeks have been intense. I can't think of any other word that more accurately describes this time. I have been on my feet from morning 'till evening -- organizing, cleaning, packing, hosting a garage sale, taking items to Good Will, etc. For those of you who know me well, you are aware of my long term conflicted relationship with my "stuff". I've gathered stuff, bought and collected stuff, inherited stuff, and, as I see now in retrospect, almost drowned myself in stuff. As an Army brat, home was always where your STUFF was, as we moved almost yearly and home was never associated with geography, neighborhood, or any particular structure. So I became accustomed to attaching to stuff. I am pleased to say that this phase in my life is shifting to the lighter, and with the courage it takes to let go and with the help of good, generous friends, I have bid adieu to over half my stuff. When we moved to the TriCities, it took two 22 ft trucks and multiple car and pick up truck loads to haul our stuff. Last Saturday we filled (yes, to the brim) one single 28 foot freight trailer with all our worldly goods. As I write this blog, our stuff is most probably on a train somewhere in the west, headed for delivery to Indianapolis on May first. I hope the date is auspicious and refers to the joy akin to May day flowers and welcome baskets my Mother taught me to leave on neighbor's doors. The other reference would be the drama of an emergent "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" call. I hope that this adventure will be much more about flower power than 911 trauma.
Ingi has gone ahead to Indiana to continue setting up his office and create and grow the business. Last Sunday after our trailer was loaded up, he flew from Pasco, Washington through Denver to Indianapolis with our calico cat, Belle, tucked into her cat carrier. It was an epic journey for Bella, contained in a cage for 11 hours. We are happy to report that she survived the experience and is now stretching her legs in the upstairs studio apartment at the home of Ingi's business partner and his wife. Don't you think it's amazingly generous of them to temporarily house both my husband and our cat? Soon Ingi will be able to move to our very own rented condo, but until then we are dependent, once again, on the sweetness of friends and family. This recent time in my life has several themes -- one about letting go, another about learning to be the gracious beneficiary of extraordinary kindness and generosity. I can't say that either lesson has come easily to me, but I can say that I see great benefit in both.
My beloved sister Carol has joined me on this drive. She, and I, and my Golden Retriever Sailor are packed into the SUV. I definitely have not conquered the minimalist life style to which I now aspire, so sadly have to report that there is still too much "stuff" in the car, but I think we will travel safely and well stocked -- we have food for humans and dog and medicine and clothes and computers and water and blankets and pillows and hope and laughter and good stories and bonhomie. Today we left the TriCities and drove to Missoula, Montana. It was around 350 miles, and took us about 6 hours, driving easily in great spring weather, stopping often at rest stops to exercise the dog and our own legs. Carol flew in from San Francisco, so she was in four states today -- California, Washington, Idaho, and now Montana. She snores lightly as I write, tired from an early morning and the day of travel. We talked as sisters can, jumping from topics of our shared histories to current work situations, childhood antics and thoughts about the future. She presented me with a treasure she had been keeping in a drawer -- our mother's high school graduation ring. What a lovely gift. So now on the forth finger of my right hand is a modest ring from Montrose (South Dakota) High School from 1938, EMS (Evelyn Mae Swanson). She is with us. When I left this morning I was also gifted with a key chain with pictures of my heart mates Pat and Michele. They are with us. Carol's kids texted us, friends facebooked or called, Ingi checked in several times by phone, Bobi gave us a tiny dashboard flower vase filled with purple blooms to cheer our drive. They are all with us. And isn't this the way it is? We are never really alone, but carry the good wishes and energies of our loved ones in our minds and hearts. As I write in this Montana hotel, I am aware of how blessed and rich I feel.
Reflection has settled me down. It was not difficult to say good bye to the desert as I am not fond of the climate or the environment. It is VERY wrenching to say good bye to the excellent tribe of women I found there -- a cohort of talented, beautiful, smart, and funny beings. I sense the band of connection stretching even more between myself and my Portland friends and family, yet I know that this is an elastic band, and it WILL stretch but not break. I practiced QiGong this morning before I left Richland and the jolt of physical energy that I am beginning to experience when I do QiGong created a disconcerting feeling as if my innerds were being whirred in a blender. The sensation lasted a few hours, before and through dinner, subsiding gradually as I've stilled myself and written. At first I thought my blood sugar had plummeted, but I tested it and it was fine. This is energy, pure and complex in it's experience. Any of you who have learned or are learning any form of martial art or body/energetic work know these sensations. I am just beginning to feel and breathe into what it means to consciously move energy, and it is quite a surprise. Yes, change is afoot. Growth is happening, and my own development mirrors the spurts of the spring season. Physical, emotional, relational, mental, and spiritual housecleaning and clearing has taken me by storm. The lightening show that descended upon the TriCities in the days before I left feels now like omen, like a wild and naturally occurring phenomenon from which I can extrapolate meaning and value pertinent to my own human story. I sat on my friend Pat's outdoor deck as lightening danced in the night sky, giving zaps of momentary illumination. Small pellets of rain, low, faint thunder, strong electrical sky currents, jagged and frightening yet not frightening. The storm blew through, leaving us tousled and whirled about. I hear the message -- let go, let go, let go. The wind will take it. Be not afraid. Breathe. Go with the flow. Today I've let go some more, driven fast (75 mph is the speed limit through much of Montana), connected, disconnected, MOVED. What do I leave behind? What lies ahead?
So this blog is about this journey to Indiana, yet as you can see it's about so much more than just moving from one state to another, from one city to the next. As with any journey, the path leads in both directions, past and future. I hope to write nightly about my thoughts and experiences, using the evening hours to reflect and share. If you care to, join me. Comment. Or not. By writing, I feel I am taking you with me, my dear friends and family. I think of you as I compose. By reading, you participate in the experience, lending your time and energy to this adventure. I hope I enjoy the ride. I hope you do too.
I look forward to tomorrow's drive. Big Sky country. Our destination is Billings, another 300 plus miles day.
Be well.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Testing, one two three, testing
I'm attempting to set up a new blog site to chronicle my move from the West Coast to the Mid West. It's April 2012, and the adventure begins. Stay tuned for more postings as our departure grows nearer; hopefully I will be able to keep adding from the road.
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