Showing posts from June, 2007


We're parked on a small lake in Sycamore, IL. Last evening, Thursday, I was immersed in an old book I'm re-reading. The sun was setting and, focusing on the book, I didn't notice the gradual change in sky color from bluish-grayish to red. When I did look up I was treated to a spectacular sunset. After grabbing the camera and trying to capture the moment, I just sat there and watched it slowly darken. As it faded, my thoughts went to the adventure at hand and a feeling of certainty? or reality? or something I'm having trouble putting into words, came over me. I'm feeling good about what we're setting out to do. How many more sunsets will we enjoy? And sunrises? Sights? Adventures? Hikes? Historic places? Bike rides? The Lewis and Clark Trail? Natchez Trace? Fall color tours? Mountain vistas? Great river roads? Campfires? Friends? Characters? Small town diners? This sunset was the end of one day, but also the beginning of the next chapter. T

Fulltimers Now

This past Monday we became fulltimers. We closed on the house and officially moved into the camper. We went from 2500 square feet to a little over 300. Most of our possessions are now possessed by someone else. It's been a difficult and drawn out process, but we're there. Dar's working through this friday, although they want her to come back for a couple days in July for an audit. I'm making good progress getting our stuff stowed in the camper -- a reconcilliation of our expectations with the available space. Our expectations can shrink... the space can't grow. So you know where this will end. Next week we'll be in Wisconsin during the week of the 4th. More later. T

Sadness as we finish this chapter

All along this process, on an intellectual level, I knew this chapter of our lives was going to close. But not until I had trouble finding a place to sit and nowhere to sleep did it hit me viscerally. And then came the emotions, the memories, and the inevitable longing for my comfort zone. In fact, I think I'm actually mourning the death of that comfort zone. Consistency, stability, and routine all characterize that place -- and we're ripping it apart to embark on a crazy adventure. We're now a little more than a week from close. Our home is rapidly becoming just a house. Allow me a little melancholy for a while. It will pass as the next chapter begins. T

Lost a week in 30 minutes

Couldn't sleep so I got up to do a post or two to the Sabbatical blog. It's 2:30am. Do you know where your children are? Monday our visitors from Vancouver were safely home and getting their lives back to normal. And as we settled back into our morning routine, I put some new pictures in our online photo albums and updated the "What's New" section of the homepage. One of the points I made was that we were 4 weeks from the closing on our house. About a half hour later I mentioned this to Dar and she promptly corrected my calculation -- no, we're 3 weeks from closing, not 4! The procrastinator in me felt a wave of panic. Wait a minute, it's the 4th of June and we close on the 25th of June... 4 from 25 is, is 21! Nuts. I got a calendar out and counted the weeks hoping the space/time continuum had somehow warped and 21 days is really 4 weeks. That didn't work either. The tasks that need to be done by closing suddenly loomed much larger, for 4 we