Things we don't particularly like

Today was the grand packing day. "Aljo," our trailer, borrowed from some dear friends, is a 1958-ish 10 foot aluminum camper, and also our home for the next 6 weeks, give or take. We are headed East to "une grand fete" - Nathan Johnson and Katie Chastain's wedding. It's going to be a 5-day affair, if we can make it for the Van Gaylen show on Wednesday night! We are super excited to see our old friends, but I am definitely NOT super excited about this final push to get out the door.

The house is a wreck, the final packing details: "where should we put the childrens' books?" and "should we take the Brazilian hammock or the REI hammock," and "I know I saw my sun hat just the other day, where the &$*! is it now?" I think the final 10% of all packing sometimes takes the longest.

My friend Cindy compared our situation to giving birth, and in some ways I agree. The last few days of pregnancy are just sheer hell. Then you have a baby and BAM! You are immediately shot into a brand new phase of life.

In a few short hours BAM! we will be launched into the first experimental phase of gypsy-dom.

On a different note, Fender's been testy with Harper lately. Tonight, while I was tucking him in bed he says, "I don't wike Harper anymore."

Me: "oh? why not?"

Fen: "sssee aways messing fings up."

Me: "ya, little babies tend to do that when they start walking..."

Fen: (with the beginning of an impish grin) "Maybe we ssould sell her"

I think we all could use a nice 30 hour road trip...