Posts Tagged ‘Community Walkabout’


So, belatedly, here’s the photo of the quilt Mirra and I made for Alex’s nephew, Domenic. We made one for his adorable baby brother, Mathis, when he was born (along with several other people) and when Domenic saw me making it he asked me in a little voice if I could make one for him. We were going to embroider it, like we did for Mathis’ one, but we didn’t have enough time, so Mirra (by far the better artist between the two of us) drew the pictures and I pieced it together. Domenic was so happy he started breakdancing.

And while I’m stealing pictures from Jane’s facebook (Jane is Alex’s sister, who lives in New York and has a ukulele that I covet), here’s one of Alex playing with his younger sisters:And here’s a picture of a bald eagle (which are almost as common as crows around here):

And the Alaskan mountains on the way to Anchorage

And, finally, Alex and the other Ionians going to Hawaii:

In my life: time is going a lot faster than I expected. I’m cooking a lot and doing some writing and I sent two letters out to agents yesterday, which made me crumple in anxiety. I can’t help but think that if Alex and Mirra were here they’d make that all better, which seems irrational, but might just be true. I can contemplate doing all sorts of things with them that, when I’m alone make me shrink in terror. They’re like lucky charms; if only they were the kind I could carry around in my pocket this would all be a whole lot easier.

Mirra says time is going a lot faster for her as well; she’s taking violin lessons, and they’re going amazingly well. Not surprising to me- I’d be shocked if there was any stringed instrument she couldn’t just pick up and play. And Alex says he’s doing well in Hawaii, although I heard the air conditioning is busted and all the kids are getting sunburns and eating too much fruit.

A few days ago, when I wrote the last depressing post, I was feeling very miserable and questioning the project. The emptiness of the place, and the absence of Mirra and Alex… but now I’m really optimistic. I think that this break is going to give all of us a chance to revive and strengthen before we plunge into trying to make money and plan our trip in Falmouth. I’m super excited now, but I’m also okay with waiting a few days.



Goodbyes (part 3)

This is getting old, I know. I should have done like Mirra did and just left before everyone else. But I didn’t and now you’re just going to have to keep reading all about it.

Four goodbyes that were hard; Connor hugged me for a quarter of an hour and then made me promise to call him on June 12th. If I forget he’ll never talk to me again.

Alex and I cleaned the house. Leaving the house was the most unexpected goodbye. I sat there, forlorn, while he finished sweeping the floor. I loved living there so much- I guess it was the closest I’ve ever come to having my own household. Someday I’ll live my house dreams.

The kids left, not quite understanding I wouldn’t be there when they got back.

And Alex.

And now here I am in the too-empty Longhouse trying to figure out what to do, making lists in my head and wondering if I could ever manage to pack as light as Alex. I have ten days and right now that seems like a gaping emptiness, though I’m sure I’ll get through them soon.

In other news, our applications to Dancing Rabbit are in, Koinonia is happy to have us and we’ve got a schedule that sees us through Thanksgiving, which seems kind of incredible.

Now I’m going to wander around with a lost look on my face,



Reasearch research research….

Typically mind numbing, and quite often annoying right? For me it is, well, most of the time, but for this it seems gripping and exciting, no matter what I am researching whether it be backpacks or Communities. I don’t know what it is about this journey, but it has me more excited and clear than I’ve been in a long time! I feel like it has given my life some direction!


Recent thoughts

I’ve been processing the reality of this journey. Last night  I took a nap and woke up with every little worry magnified in a tight knot in my stomach. The next day I spoke to Gwendolyn and Alex about it and found I had only caught up to them about the trip. The great thing was that we all still felt as dedicated as ever, if not more. Everyday we come together just to pour over maps and lists and to plan and brainstorm. Tonight is quiet though; I am writing this, Alex is on the floor looking at a map of the United States and Gwendolyn is composing a song on the ukulele. There’s a fire burning in the Tempcast and half a loaf of  ginger cake on the counter that has slowly been disappearing.

With our current plan of action, I have only three weeks left here at Ionia, my home for the last year. As practically everyone knows, it is when one leaves their friends that they truly begin to know how important they are in one’s life.


Beginning Community Walkabout

So the idea is still pretty new, but we’re totally commited to it. I guess it might not make as much sense to other people as it does to us. For us- Mirra and I anyway; I don’t remember talking about this with Alex- it came as a sudden certainty. Until we came up with it our lives were a noisy jumble of ideas and possibilites that we weren’t really all that interested in. But this- once we had talked about it and began to plan for it- it appeared so clear and obvious. Of course we would do this. Of course it was the right idea. We’re going to have to do a thousand things for this and none of them seem like work. Suddenly things we wouldn’t be interested in doing at all seemed worthwhile and easy. Even talking to strangers- never my strong suit- seems exciting if I can talk to them about this. It’s like a whole new world of possibilities- ones we actually want- have opened up to us.

We’re just beginning to tell people about this. We haven’t even told our moms. We’re kind of afraid, actually, of telling our moms. Our moms aren’t going to be happy. They’re going to be scared for us and worried about us and we’ve bandied about the idea of just not telling them about the hitchiking, but they’d find out eventually and that would be worse. The hitchiking seems like an integral part of this somehow. I’m not sure why; it just does.

So if you’re reading this, you’re either part of the priveledged few, or you’re a stranger who just happened to come across our page and started reading. Thanks, by the way. Hopefully we’ll be entertaining enough to make it worth your while.