Safe in Their Beds...
John is nestled in the down comforter, sleeping soundly in the basement cocoon of the house. I'm upstairs, sleepless, with my favorite blanket wrapped around my shoulders and the computer giving off a dull glow in the dark. And here we are: home.
We arrived a few days ago, just in time for a belated Thanksgiving with my family. We spent Thanksgiving proper with John's family in a rented house on the ocean in the Outer Banks. It was blustery, cold, and salty -- perfect for looking out the window and thinking fondly of the beach. We have spent the last few days hiding out, digging down, trying to staunch the vertigo from sudden inertia. The moment we arrived here, we were both hit with a tidal wave of exhaustion that I think we weren't expecting. After all, the final two weeks of the trip were practically motionless; quiet and relaxed. A pre-hibernation to foreshadow the little dent we make in the earth now.
We left the hustle-bustle of Nashville and headed to Asheville, where some friends of a friend of a friend graciously took us into their home just as the temperature in the mountains plummeted to "unbearable in a three-season tent." We met them at a Blackalicious show at the Orange Peel, the liveliest venue in the country as far as we can tell. Can the hippies ever dance. Alisha and Nicki, the aforementioned friends, led us back to their house and as quickly as that we had nearly moved in. We stayed four days, and were not easily convinced to leave. They are raising an amazing kid by the name of Elliot. He had the croup, so we got to play hookey with him. Mostly, this meant playing the Harry Potter board game, Slapjack, War, and Go Fish, and watching cartoons with the cats -- Lover and Gooey. We made chicken soup and drank tea all day. Wintery perfection. Our major excitement was finally snagging Chaco, who appeared in trap (empty of any treats, the poor curious creature) on day two. We walked him down to the creek with Elliot and set him free to become part of the food chain. Elliot was pretty impressed that he had come all the way from New Mexico. And come to think of it, so were we.
Asheville gave way to Duck. The hibernation deepened. John's family is tender, quiet, and introspective. The major excitements at the beach are the daily trip to the grocery store and making dinner, and neither shake you very deeply from your deserved recline. Occassionally Sunny Boy, the family motivator and a yellow lab, would demand a trip to the shore to chase birds and strut about with horseshoe crabs dangling from his lips. We ate salmon and clams and shrimp for Thanksgiving, and gave our thanks for each other and the safe harbor of family.
Driving into DC for the first time in five months brought about the frame shift that happens to all travellers -- the sudden sense that you were just here, perhaps even yesterday, and everything is as it was. And in the next instant, you are suddenly just as sure that a lifetime has passed, and you can't summon the feat of imagination that will label this place home. There's no way to sum up the trip without pretending it was simpler than it was for both of us. I think we both found a kind of happiness we hadn't previously had, and we're eager to hold on to it. Certainly, we can offer our thanks to everyone for following along, encouraging us, sharing your homes and beds, and perhaps also for allowing yourselves to be a little inspired.
We'll be in DC through January. After that ... we'll keep you posted.
Sunny and Stephen (John's brother), breaking a sweat
The Mayer Clan (from left: Dad Gerry, Mom Nan, Brother Stephen, and Man I Love)
"If I love Chaco, can I keep him?"
We arrived a few days ago, just in time for a belated Thanksgiving with my family. We spent Thanksgiving proper with John's family in a rented house on the ocean in the Outer Banks. It was blustery, cold, and salty -- perfect for looking out the window and thinking fondly of the beach. We have spent the last few days hiding out, digging down, trying to staunch the vertigo from sudden inertia. The moment we arrived here, we were both hit with a tidal wave of exhaustion that I think we weren't expecting. After all, the final two weeks of the trip were practically motionless; quiet and relaxed. A pre-hibernation to foreshadow the little dent we make in the earth now.
We left the hustle-bustle of Nashville and headed to Asheville, where some friends of a friend of a friend graciously took us into their home just as the temperature in the mountains plummeted to "unbearable in a three-season tent." We met them at a Blackalicious show at the Orange Peel, the liveliest venue in the country as far as we can tell. Can the hippies ever dance. Alisha and Nicki, the aforementioned friends, led us back to their house and as quickly as that we had nearly moved in. We stayed four days, and were not easily convinced to leave. They are raising an amazing kid by the name of Elliot. He had the croup, so we got to play hookey with him. Mostly, this meant playing the Harry Potter board game, Slapjack, War, and Go Fish, and watching cartoons with the cats -- Lover and Gooey. We made chicken soup and drank tea all day. Wintery perfection. Our major excitement was finally snagging Chaco, who appeared in trap (empty of any treats, the poor curious creature) on day two. We walked him down to the creek with Elliot and set him free to become part of the food chain. Elliot was pretty impressed that he had come all the way from New Mexico. And come to think of it, so were we.
Asheville gave way to Duck. The hibernation deepened. John's family is tender, quiet, and introspective. The major excitements at the beach are the daily trip to the grocery store and making dinner, and neither shake you very deeply from your deserved recline. Occassionally Sunny Boy, the family motivator and a yellow lab, would demand a trip to the shore to chase birds and strut about with horseshoe crabs dangling from his lips. We ate salmon and clams and shrimp for Thanksgiving, and gave our thanks for each other and the safe harbor of family.
Driving into DC for the first time in five months brought about the frame shift that happens to all travellers -- the sudden sense that you were just here, perhaps even yesterday, and everything is as it was. And in the next instant, you are suddenly just as sure that a lifetime has passed, and you can't summon the feat of imagination that will label this place home. There's no way to sum up the trip without pretending it was simpler than it was for both of us. I think we both found a kind of happiness we hadn't previously had, and we're eager to hold on to it. Certainly, we can offer our thanks to everyone for following along, encouraging us, sharing your homes and beds, and perhaps also for allowing yourselves to be a little inspired.
We'll be in DC through January. After that ... we'll keep you posted.
Sunny and Stephen (John's brother), breaking a sweat
The Mayer Clan (from left: Dad Gerry, Mom Nan, Brother Stephen, and Man I Love)
"If I love Chaco, can I keep him?"
