Week Thirteen (28 April – 4 May)
A Journey Delayed
I was fixed on beginning this great land voyage in April, an auspicious time to set out. After all, it is the month during which Chaucer’s pilgrims began their famous journey, and the month in which that hairy footed smallish fellow Mr. Baggins began his epic travels in 1341 (Shire Reckoning, of course).
I am resigned to thinking that May will do for our launch, however, and we have good company, historically speaking. It was in this month of 1607 that Henry Hudson set out to find a northern passage to the Orient and that Lewis and Clarke set out on their great expedition. More importantly, however, let’s not forget that it was 1 May 1420 (Shire Reckoning, again) that Elrond and Arwen set out from Rivendale, after Aragorn entered the City to claim his kingship. Yes…May will do.
Simply stated, we were delayed. The forces of nature, and the nature of human households these days, were against us. To begin, the Spring outpouring of pollen that is so well known in these parts sent the bride and myself into allergic fits of apoplectic proportion, sapping us of sleep, energy, and dry noses and eyes. This was punctuated by three days of rains so heavy that flash flood warnings were sounded across the region. (Hard to pack a sea crate in the middle of a veritable monsoon.) Add to this the fact that we were self-packing a six person household that required additional and simultaneous culling of unneeded possessions, and you are left missing the mark when it comes to any scheduled and orderly departure.
Delayed too were the execution of our plans for settling in Hawaii. Fully booked schedules for land clearers, shipping times for yurt components, builder’s calendars, and other fineries of establishing our homestead have reset to August the probable timeframe of having a habitable dwelling upon an accessible piece of property. In the meantime, we will start researching some rental options on the Big Island to reduce the need to live out of the family tent for three months.
Logistics on Film
Can’t imagine the craziness of our week? Let me show you. First a peak at a few of the kids’s bedrooms…
Then there was the dinning room, my office, turned logistics hub and triage center for determining the fate of many a belonging (into a pod, a suitcase, or the donation pile)…
One child’s room was turned into a staging area for our cross-nation road trip and things we will need to bivouac on the property until the yurt is complete…
As mentioned in a previous post, the Salvation Army now venerates us. Why do they salute when they see me pull into the donation area? For the past six or so trips, the car has looked something like this:
I believe it was Socrates who said, “How many are the things I can do without!”
The society of pod users world ‘round may soon honor us too. You can’t work a pod more than this:
The good news is that we filled both pods in time for their pick up. The more interesting news is that we learned we really need about 2.5 pods to fit all that we need to take along. So…a little more delay to our departure as we work out the details of that remaining 0.5. Which reminds me….
The First Rule of Entering Bohemian Hippiedom…
…is that there is no bohemian hippiedom. No, wait…that was Fight Club. The first rule is (and we have been teaching this to the kids), above all else…flexibility.
The second rule is…no worries. Now, on this issue, I’ll take a minute to note that many a good person has expressed worry for us, and I would be less than an honest man if I told you that we do not ourselves indulge in a little recreational worry every now and then these days. We are, after all, in the early stages of a voyage fraught with uncertainty, unknown or changing variables, and unanswerable questions.
We have learned, however, to take solace in the words of a collection of wisened men, many foreign to these shores and this tongue, who have gone before us down paths of uncertainty or pontificated on the same. Take, for example, that little bald lawyer from colonial India–the one who was fond of homespun and steel-rimmed glasses–who said, “There is nothing that wastes the body like worry, and one who has any faith in God should be ashamed to worry about anything whatsoever.” Then there is the recently deceased 27-year veteran prisoner, the one they fondly called Madiba, who said, “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. (We miss you, Nelson.) Lao Tzu, of course, reminded us that "Worry is toxic.” But let’s not forget the master teacher on the issue of worry, that carpenter who did tricks with fish and bread who once told a gathered crowd, “I tell you not to worry about everyday life…Can all of your worries add a single moment to your life?….Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries.”
May the Fourth Be With You…
We marked today with the sealing of the pods, a sweet sixteen birthday dinner for one of our young ladies, and no idea whatsoever of what tomorrow will hold or when we will finally get out of here. Ah, life….
On that note, I’ll close with another word of wisdom from our in-house version of Yoda, the 9-year old lady of wisdom, who–in the middle of one of the more frantic moments of our packing–quipped, “I thought this new lifestyle was supposed to be less stressful.”
Oh…one last thing. Almost forgot. Our van… The professionals could not find anything out of order or get the anomaly to repeat. Obviously a wormhole, just as I suspected. (You owe me a beer, Mr. Hawkings.)