Dispatches From Old Home
Personal entry follows.
It's been two weeks since my last entry. I wanted to record some observations and thoughts so far.
Made it to my relatives' place on the east coast after 8 days of traveling, which included the two extra days I was stuck with a messed-up car. Turns out that off-road diesel is supplied at other locations besides the gas station near the eco-institute... I need to pay attention more at the pump. There was serious, intense snow the first day of driving my repaired car, which also slowed me down, featuring a closed highway that was my main route out of town. At times, the snowdrifts entirely covered the road and it appeared to be near-whiteout conditions. I saved my dash-cam footage to share with others about how things looked: gorgeous, but terribly dangerous.
Visited my 86-year-old aunt in the midwest, then made it to my mother's place on Easter Sunday. It's been smooth sailing and idle time nearly ever since then. Lots of board games and video games with the nephews and niece, as well as a few games with my mother. The dog and I get along very well, and we run around like idiots in the yard occasionally. Attended the nephew's sports game this past weekend, and it was both a new experience for me (lacrosse...?) as well as a snapshot to suburban family life. My sister-in-law works from home, and we've shared workout time a few days. She has a series of workouts that she does, while I'm focused on running bare-foot on the treadmill. I found a couple virtual running tours videos online which injects variety into an otherwise static experience.
I check in with the eco-institute in the morning and the afternoon, at the start of each shift, each weekday. The new well has been drilled since late last week, but unfortunately to date there's no sign of water. A few significant projects have been completed beyond that, and I missed-out on the start of planting (a by-product of postponing this trip a month). One guest wrapped-up their time this weekend, and another has arrived. The crowd-funding campaign also ended on a high note, and I ought to be reimbursed for my multitudinous purchases since March.
Visits to friends in the town where I used to work begin today. My old day job office is on the agenda, and I'll be meeting with my former executive director over dinner. I still have a feeling she's checking out after the anniversary celebration, and additional testimony from other former coworkers has reinforced my suspicion. "She's interested in magazine covers," was one reply. Seems like it'll be tough to end on a high note when you neglect the organization by focusing efforts on the going-away party instead. But I don't know all the details. I think dinner this evening will be illuminating.
Other visits include my ex and former soap-making partner (I'm crashing at her house at least tonight, maybe two evenings), another former coworker, and eventually the director of the community garden and then my artist friend (who is still in recovery from her life-changing surgery). This coming Saturday will be a game design meeting, and I'm most-definitely looking forward to reconnecting with those folks and having some quality company for a day: adults who aren't focused on just permaculture and whose brains aren't dulled with typical suburban life.
At the end of the month, there's a memorial service for my two stepsisters who died last year, and then I head back to the eco-institute. I still have a week and a half in town before I head out.
There have been a few conversations regarding what my long-term plans are, once I've earned stewardship of the land I'll be granted. Nothing's cemented in permanency, however I do feel like I'll be "snow-birding" during the coldest part of the year. Six months on-site at the eco-institute during the growing season, then six months elsewhere. Not exactly sure where that elsewhere is going to be, but there's still over a year to work that out. More conversations this coming week ought to be helpful (though not definite) in that regard.
kestrel.diary [at] tutanota.com