Of Gypsies and Cowboys

Time is flying!

The house is almost packed. I'm heading away for a week and expect to come back to an almost empty home as J will be putting the furniture into storage. The bed, couch, desk, etc., will all be held at the garage until we haul them west. For now, we're only bringing what we absolutely need (ie. what we can fit in the RV while we live for the next year).

There have been moments in the past week when I was ready to toss it all; just tell J to pick up some basic work in town and forget all these ridiculous plans. I miss just having days on end with Jem. I miss planning ahead for my garden and little get-togethers. I haven't even begun to process having a mountain range between me and my family and friends. I'm drained and tired and cranky and not anywhere near ready to start a business or live with this crazy man in a 24' tunnel. BUT, we are doing this. We're packing up. We're heading west. We're hoping for a better life. And it's going to be alright. No one is making us do this; when it comes down to it, no one is really forcing our hand. We're going to try this, we're going to hope.

Did I mention I'm terrified?