go nomadic - again...

when home has no place to park

guess i won't be going there...

thanks to those of you who have sent me kind words and well-wishes of late. if you don't already know yes, jason and i split this week to head on separate paths. his leads him to earn 'dirt time' on organic farms, looking for skills and experiences on which to build his school. at the moment mine consists of picking up some shifts at aspen and continuing my job search.

drove from moab to county last night. the rain was intermittent and i could see bits of orion peeking out through gaps in the clouds. summit curled up against me in a way that reminded me of the first day i got her. we drove through the night to twin falls idaho. after refusing to get into the car and eventually throwing up on my gear stick she simply sighed, decided she could adopt me too, and lay her head across the parking break onto my thigh. last night she lay like that all the way to notom where we threw down for the night.

i find a simple pleasure in returning to this way of life. i have what i need, i go where i want, and the bills are low. any pressure is further eased by rolling back into the place where everybody knows my name. ten minutes i'd been at castle rock when a friend walked over from the next door business to clap me on the shoulder and give me a hug. not too shabby for 7:30 in the morning. i'll head to the power plant next and visit with tina before watering my plants at the poho and hunting people up at the mansion. eventually i'll get to loa. not in any rush though.

i will not say that i don't want my own place. i want a nice place with a yard for the dog and wireless internet. if it had wooden floors for yoga and a gas range i'd hole up and never leave.

yeah...i get it, i should cut the hyperbole.

i will say that at this moment my desire to bounce around and be footloose and fancy free is about 50/50 with my need for stability and space. i guess what i am doing on integration and balance is working. i love the romanticism of moving with the wind, of pulling up my tent stakes (or bivy stakes in my case) and seeing where i end up. i like doing what i did last night - driving until i came to an open space where i can see the milky way and just camping right there. i love calling up a friend and dropping in for an extended couch visit - cooking them meals and leaving the kitchen a bit cleaner than i found it.

then again i also relish in the safety and comfort of familiar faces - of not having to read the menu because i already know what i am going to eat - of waking to my photos on the wall in a bed made up of my own linens. i love that quiet release in my heart when i walk into the smell of my own place in the dark and know what it will look like when i turn on the lights. i want my plants around me, not languishing for lack of water in a mostly empty house. i want to curl up in an oversized armchair and scan my bookshelf to reread chapters from something dog-eared and friendly.

i need to find a way to serve both masters.