The first time I left home, I was seven years old. I packed a metal Charlie brown lunch box and went out into the horse field next to the house. I was really hoping someone would miss me and at least come out calling for me. Knowing me, it was likely too early in the morning for anybody to be up and about, and my short attention span ran out before I could generate any anxiety in anyone but myself. I ate my lunch and went back home. I think I was only gone about an hour at the most.
This feels a little like that. I feel as if I’ve been gone so long, and think someone is waiting with baited breath for a communiqué from me, but truth is, the world goes on without me. R says someone described a retirees absence as someone removing their index finger from a big lake. Events and people fill in the time and activities, and the “big wheel keeps on turnin’.”
I really wanted to get A’s funny little tune about the microfiber dog up and attached to something as some kind of theme, and so far haven’t had the technical aptitude to do it, which is, I’m certain, no surprise to anyone. I had imagined doing all of this sequentially, posting notes and photos as we went along at least every few days. Turns out, quite a few days we were out of services, a number of days were long enough that I was too tired to attempt anything that might try my limited supply of patience, and sometimes I tried but failed. Mind you, this is someone who needs instructions to cut and paste still.
In any case, my thoughts have been with my friends and family and I have looked forward to sharing our little adventure. A friend who travels a great deal expressed concern about seeming like she was boasting or bragging by sharing her stories, knowing what a great privilege it is to do so, and hoping it doesn’t cause resentment. I totally get that, but most of my people know that my life could have easily turned out quite differently. I don’t deserve this. I have a fair amount of survivors guilt, but damn if that doesn’t make it hard for me to overflow with joy and awe that I want to express as best I can.
You will notice my layout is quite imperfect, and that I haven’t mastered some sort of spellcheck and I’m all out of sequence, and I have a funny blog name that likely makes no sense to any but a few now that we have internet access across the street, and I’ve learned how to use “Microsoft word” I simply have to dive in and beg your forbearance. If you know someone that is curious about our travels, do feel free to give them the microfiberdog.com address.
R has logged quite a lot, separately, and I will work from and with his logs to catch up on a few of the highlights of the trip down. Most of the photos will be ones he took.