June 23, 2014

Maya says:

Well, my techno-good intentions to set up a RSS feed for this blog (so that anyone could subscribe to it) went south and we lost ALL of our content on our website for a few days. I will try again to do this without glitches, and luckily, I was able to retrace my steps and we're back JUST in time for our departure to Boulder. Less than 48 hours separates us from our exit from Nutley! In the past 4 days, we've:

• finalized our itinerary stops and confirmed our hosts
• held an art-themed birthday party (featuring terrariums, magic wands, and a photo booth inside Maude) for 15 8-year-olds
• OFFICIALLY launched our Nutley kickoff!
• made an additional Tiny Traveling library to house the books that didn't fit into the first two
• begun packing up our supplies for the road
• bought a shade umbrella to keep us cool while we type at our stops
• inaugurated our very own Little Free Library in our front yard

There is so much to think about and wrap up as we get set to hit the highway on Wednesday, but as we inch moment by moment toward departure, I feel such a sense of elation and pride that we are here, on the lip of this great adventure, having worked our minds and hearts and bodies to arrive. It is time. I am ready.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amy says:

I was writing something the other day about fragility, that thin line between life and death, the one we mostly don't like to think about but we are sometimes forced to examine. Maybe a child is sick or a parent is aging or a friend has had a frightening allergic reaction and another has gotten a scary diagnosis, or a funeral procession passes in front of your house and you spend a moment watching the grief-stricken faces behind the windows and say a quick prayer for the deceased before you go back to whatever it is you were doing. And you try to ignore that thin line.

And sometimes you find the wing of a butterfly. Just one, no body, no other wing in sight. And you stop to pick it up and cup it in your hands and look around as if you will find the thing that has torn it apart. But who knows? Maybe it was simply rain and a strong wind. You stand there in the grass overcome with emotion because life really is so precious, isn't it? There is so much extraordinary beauty around us. We are lucky to be alive, breathing in the green mountain air, feeling the rain splash our legs - the very same legs that are pumping so hard to get us up the next big hill, intoxicated by the smell of honeysuckle and the sound of lambs bleating across the road and the voice of the one you love telling you you are almost there, almost at the top.

And you are so grateful for this journey and the chance to say "another day."