Well uhuh baby I aint got no plan...

"you don't know where and you don't know when, but you still got your words and you got your friends. walk along to, another day, work a little harder, work another way." - Modest Mouse "The World At Large"

Florida has been a roller-coaster. And not like one of the really fun roller-coasters at one of the many theme parks here (none of which we could ever dream of affording). Rather, a roller-coaster of both plans and emotions, one usually following the other.

For starters, we did not realize how expensive Florida would be. We read all about how amazing the state park system is and were excited to check out a few of the parks - but immediately realized we would have to wait for the next time we visited Florida, when we were "feeling richer" as we like to put it. To put a tent up on a square patch of land in a state park can range anywhere from $16-$36. Absolutely painful. Two and a half weeks of that pain would surely break our bank and we would have to pack up and find a place to settle down and submit to wage-slavery for awhile.

Instead, I cried. Not for very long, of course, but a good bit of time. A big, long cry of frustration. To not know where you're going to sleep at 4:30 in afternoon as the sun's descent is picking up speed is just awful. To know that you can't afford to pay the exorbitant fees anyone would charge you to try to sleep somewhere is just as equally, if not more awful.

So after being saved for an evening by a friend from Bryn Mawr (thank you, Sara!) we were able to discover Florida's wonderful little secret: Water management districts. Florida is way ahead of most of America in preparing itself for water-sustainability. The state is broken up into five separate districts, and judging by their five separate websites they appear to each act of their own accord. The majority of these districts, in addition to managing water resources and wildlife, also provide public access to the lands for recreation and learning.

The preservation and conservation of land is definitely a concept that deserves further inquiry, but for now we’ll just say it’s both wonderful and problematic. As for the water management districts, they saved our budget on four separate occasions, giving us beautiful, serene campgrounds, that despite the cold, let us savor what this trip is really about.

After seeing a post on facebook describing our Florida woes (pre-WMDs, the good kind), my Aunt Shelly and Uncle Brad who live in Kissimmee got a hold of us and extended a warm invitation to stay in their home as the cold spell settled down throughout the state. After a toasty evening by a fire, we awoke on Monday to a balmy 28 degrees, packed up camp and headed toward warmth of the heated-shelter and family variety. And it has been absolutely great – cooking and relaxing with family, movies and the hot tub. We’re heading from here to Chattanooga to be with Caitlin’s family for Christmas, and then down to New Orleans for New Years where we’ll be meeting some Philly friends!

Wild horses, couldn't drag me away..

We left Salamander Springs last Thursday with our sights on Savannah as the highlight of our weekend travels. The city enticed us with its live oaks and Spanish Moss, haunting history, squares and parks galore -it's an absolutely beautiful place to be! We stayed outside the city in Fort McAllister state park, paying a pretty penny for a luxurious campsite equipped with outlets and hot showers. However, Savannah's live oaks only turned out to be a tease for what these gorgeous trees can really do to a landscape.

Tony, our host at Blue Heron farms, highly recommended Cumberland Island National Seashore as a place we had to visit during our journeys. So from our picnic table at the park, we plugged in our computer and found the number to reserve ourselves a $2/person/night backcountry camping permit and $17 round-trip ferry ticket. We could in no way at all be prepared for the awe-inspiring experience we were about to have.

And really, I'm not quite sure of how to find the words to describe it. The first of four backcountry sites is 3.5 miles from where the ferry drops you off and is called Stafford Beach. The campsites are all located within the maritime forest on the island - where aforementioned live oaks were the dominant canopy tree and let light gently filter through in soft rays. The first night we were there with maybe 12 others or so, each in our own private area with a firepit. So private, you could hardly tell there were others from the near silence save a few spurts of laughter or the breaking of more wood for fire.

The solitude was no more apparent than when walking along the ocean, with the beach at sunset both evenings absolutely devoid of humans other than us. There were, however, wild horses. So beautiful and majestic in their free, unencumbered existence. And they weren't just on the beaches! When the Carnegies owned the island during the Gilded Age, they built a spectacular mansion (as the Carnegies are prone to do) called Dungeness (its namesake from the mansion that Nathaniel Greene built the century prior when he owned the island). While touring the ruins of this grand estate we came across a field of six horses between the path and the restrooms. As we walked through their pack, not a bit of mind was paid to us and as good observers, we followed suit (minus the extensive pictures taken).

Twice, Cait and I decided to walk half of the 3.5 mile journey to the ranger's station along the beach and there was nary a soul in sight on both occasions. On beaches all along the Atlantic seaboard, this is unheard of. Yet here we were, spending hours on the beach collecting shells, watching wild horses and birds, and being entranced by the waves' gentle rise and fall against the shore.

The second night, it was just one other couple from St. Augustine and us at the site. Both evenings we built a toasty fire, made a delicious dinner and spent our technology-free downtime swinging in our hammock. We woke before dawn to pack up our site, catch the sunrise at the beach and begin our trek to the dock to catch the 10:15 ferry. While we missed the sunrise by mere minutes, its slow ascent reflecting in the waves bubbling to shore was absolutely picturesque, so much so that I don't believe we even took pictures of it, with complete awareness that it couldn't be captured.

We left with the hopes of catching a space launch at Cape Canaveral that was scheduled for tomorrow at noon. However, it's been pushed back to the 9th and as north Florida is experiencing record lows for this time of year we're heading south! We're currently on 95 heading down the coast to the Everglades International Hostel in Florida City. They have tent camping rates that are cheaper than Florida State Parks!!! With our last minute change in plans, they offer hopes of warm showers and WiFi, giving Cait the time and space to upload pictures and share her side of our story.

We'll be making another batch of postcards soon, so if you want one be sure to send me or Cait a note (via facebook, this blog, txt or carrier pigeon!) and we'll try to print you out one as soon as we can! Thanks so much for the love and support, y'all are great!

And a red clay halo for my head

Life at Salamander Springs has been so wonderful – I can’t stop smiling as I think of it. We’ve been staying with the aforementioned residents – Debbie, Eyal and Daniel. On top of that we arrived at the same time as Dot and Daphna, two of Eyals friends from Israel. When we left for Thanksgiving to join Cait’s family in Chattanooga, we came home on Sunday to another WWOOFer, Hank. And then yesterday, two more WWOOFers arrived – Shannon and Anders, who spent six months last year traveling in South America!!

Last night we cooked up a turkey stew (thanks so graciously to Auntie Liz who donated her amazing, delicious turkey carcass to us) with a mirepoix and all of the veggies we could gather – sweet potatoes, idahos, butternut squash, cabbage and S&A made a scrumptious cornbread over the fire… all of us sitting around the campfire was such a beautiful sight to behold, it still makes me all warm and fuzzy inside (kind of like when two of the dogs, lilah and bingo were snuggling together, squeal!!).

I can’t stress how peaceful and wonderful this little liberal island in the midst of Georgia’s sea of red is - especially as you traipse along the trails in the forest to the spring where you dip a golden ladle into the fresh water and sip to your heart’s content. The conversation around the campfire drifts from one topic to the next, but just about always questions why the world is the way it is, how it got there, and how in the world we can make sense of America and all of her flaws. And let us not forget daily adjectives, where we throw out ten dollar words (think assiduous, magnanimous, acrimonious) and define them, either from deep in our memory or with help from the “shitty dictionary” that’s kept in the kitchen.

The love of literacy abounds here, with references to great books peppering every conversation. If you haven’t read something, Debbie always replies with, “Oh, it’s in the library, you should check it out!” And when she says library, she means the trailer not too far from the communal kitchen which houses many of the volunteers as well as books everywhere the eye can see!

It’s an excellent example of alternative living and I’m so grateful for the time that Caitlin and I have been able to spend here, filled with the laughter and joy that comes with being surrounded by genuinely happy, compassionate, magnanimous individuals.

Like usual, it’s ever onward and tomorrow we are heading out to Savannah, where we will be camping a little south of the city in Fort McAllister state park! Then we’ll have a couple of days on Cumberland Island in the National Park (thank you National Parks Pass!) before heading down to Florida for a two and a half week farming and sight-seeing pre-holiday spree.

“Oh the girls all dance with the boys from the city, and they don’t care to dance with me… it aint my fault that the fields are muddy, and the red clay stains my feet! And it’s under my nails, and it’s under my collar, and it shows on Sunday clothes… I do my best with the soap and the water, but the damned old dirt won’t go…..” Gillian Welch, sure to make an appearance around the campfire this evening!

Tell me, what else should I have done?

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?"- Mary Oliver

After visiting Atlanta for almost a week, we drove southeast to the small town of Milledgeville, GA (home of Flannery O’Connor!) and have been staying on a beautiful homestead with a wonderful host. Debbie and her one-time WWOOFer/now neighbor Eyal have made us so welcome on their beautiful slice of heaven, we are yet again finding it difficult to leave. Salamander Springs is the essence of simple living. There is no running water in the traditional sense, but throughout the property are three different springs from which to collect drinking water and solar showers for washing. Rainwater is collected for dishes and there’s a solar-pump to bring it to the outdoor communal kitchen. You pee anywhere (and poo!) but if you want there is a latrine to use for the latter. There’s a huge garden that provides delicious fresh food, and Debbie ensures that the kitchen is always stocked as her number one worry and concern is providing food for all of the people who pass through to lend a hand.

The warmth and care that exuberates from both Debbie, Eyal and Daniel (another WWOOFer who has a more permanent place at the farm) and the passion that they have for every tree, plant, bug, creature on their land (except the goddamn fireants!) is absolutely contagious. Cooking over the fire every night and sharing meals with the friends gathered is a beautiful experience in itself.

And it calls into question so much of how I live my life, how I will choose to live my life after this trip is through. Debbie follows a lot of permaculture practices, but as with all methods, it’s necessary to cull what you believe are the best practices and makes most sense for you. One thing I appreciate so much about farming and gardening is that, well, it just makes sense. There’s a lot to learn, of course – which plants can survive Georgia heat, what plants will put nutrients back into the ground, what plants are perennials. But once you begin to learn a little, the floodgates open and you can file it all away because it makes sense and can be managed.

While staying at places like Salamander Springs, you can begin to call into question things you think are necessary. Debbie has a couple of solar panels and some batteries that allow us to have an extension cord in the kitchen for charging things, having a light, and playing a CD boombox. But other than that, there’s no refrigerator, no dishwasher, no cuisanart food processor (something I've desired for a long while!). All trash has to be hauled off the farm so it makes sense not to create any. We’re in the middle of the forest, so using dead trees for firewood can keep you warm all winter and provide a stovetop to cook meals.

Sitting around one night, Debbie was waxing poetic about how at a permaculture workshop people were lamenting their return to the “real world” and the host flat out told them that this is the “real world.” We’re really growing real food, really creating livable shelters, creating livable communities. What’s so real about the consumer-driven, unsustainable waste land that is created in every suburb, in every American town?

And so maybe that’s how we should think of this trip. Not as putting off the “real world,” but creating and living in a real world. There are people across America that are opting to live in this alternate world that is more real than anything you encounter in the mainstream media. And honestly, people will look at you and ask why you’re being so extreme… but there’s nothing extreme about it! If you have to pee, why would you not go behind a tree and pee?If you have to cook, why would you not build a fire and cook? It is not extreme, it's simple.

So again, as Mary Oliver asks, What will you do with your one wild and precious life?

Rebel girl, you are the queen of my world...

Dangerous Life

I quit med school when I found out the stiff they gave me
had Book Nine of Paradise Lost and the lyrics
to "Louie, Louie" tattooed on the inside of her thigh.

That morning as the wind was mowing
little ladies on the street below, I touched a Bunsen burner
to the Girlscout sash whose badges were the measure of my worth:

Careers ...
Cookery, Seamstress ...
and Baby Maker ... all gone up in smoke.

But I kept the merit badge marked Dangerous Life,
for which, if you remember, the girls were taken to the woods
and taught the mechanics of fire,

around which they had us dance with pointed sticks
lashed into crucifixes that we'd wrapped with yarn and wore
on lanyards round our necks, calling them "The Eyes of God."

Now my mother calls the payphone outside my walk-up, raving
about what people think of a woman: thirty, unsettled,
living on foodstamps, coin-op laundromats, & public clinics.

Some nights I take my lanyards from their shoebox, practice baying
those old campsongs to the moon. And remember how they told us
that a smart girl could find her way out of anywhere, alive.

- Lucia Maria Perillo

From Awhimaway and it's wonders, to Nashville, to Chattanooga, to Atlanta... the days keep flying by. Right now I'm reveling in my day spent at the Botanical Gardens (thank you Simmer for the recommendation!) and still processing our day spent at the Dr. Martin Luther King National Park. We've seen Iron and Wine and are about to go listen to Horse Feathers and I am absolutely filled with satisfaction and excitement.

It's funny, how I find myself laying in Caitlin's grandmother's bed (she's had it since she was 16!) and wishing nothing more than to spend all my days lying there, out of nerves or exhaustion or simply overwhelmed by the task we've undertaken. Then only four days later, to be couchsurfing in Atlanta and taking in all of the sites and to be all wound up by the energy created from traveling and learning.

We're kind of lagging in terms of our next bout of planning, but it keeps coming together and it's becoming easier to let go of some of that ridiculous worry I carry around with me!

Here's to the Dangerous Life!

and if there's any love in me, don't let it grow

As we were helping Krista plant garlic this morning, we were agreeing how quintessentially fall planting garlic is. There's something about marking the seasons by the tasks in a garden. As the days get more crisp you find yourself composting tomato plants while harvesting as many green ones as you can find, putting in cover crops and covering your fall greens at night. It's a soothing rhythm... if something doesn't work, there's always next year.

I'm always amazed by how fast time flies when we come to a place that we just love. We've been mostly helping Krista (and Simmer, though she's been away and we've only just met her!) with their fall garden tasks and winter preparations. It's very relaxing here, compounded by the fact that I haven't been feeling well so have been taking it pretty easy and also cooking a lot of warm, comforting foods.

Making a living off of the land is difficult - I mentioned the troubles Prodigal Farms had with regulatory agencies in North Carolina. Here at Little Short Mountain, they've been aggressively campaigning to get a referendum passed to allow distilleries in their county. Luckily, on Tuesday, all of their hard work paid off! It was wonderful to be here after such a joyous victory. However, it's important to remember that the underdogs don't always win and that we still need to find ways to make starting businesses easier for those trying to undertake them.

I do have to say, deciding to postpone graduate school for a year has taken such a weight off of my shoulders. Having a precise end date to this trip was making it difficult to enjoy where I was, without worrying about getting to the next place to see it all as fast as possible before the year was over! I truly feel that letting this journey just take its course without imposing arbitrary deadlines on it will work out for the better in the end... in fact, it already is.


look at that wood-splitting action!!

i keep a close watch on this heart of mine

The ladies, ready and waiting to be walked up to the milking parlour in the morning.

Our time at Prodigal Farms seems so long ago, but really only ended just last Wednesday! Each day was filled with the brim with things to do, things to learn. Caitlin and I, after a few missteps, became an excellent milking team and loved every minute that we were able to spend with the goats.

Our hosts, Kat and Dave, have only been a certified dairy for 6 weeks, and really have only been goat farmers for less than two years. Kat was a high powered attorney in New York for fifteen years and Dave a high-end contractor with his own business - they took all of that drive and dedication that made them so successful in their first careers, and are unloading full-steam into the development of Prodigal Farms. It is a sight to behold!

Not only have they fought Homeland Security, but have also fought tooth and nail against the North Carolina bureaucracy that has made each step in their attempt to create and open the dairy a difficult and tiresome process. It shouldn't be as hard as it was for them to open and run a farm, especially if you're going above and beyond standard requirements in your desire to be excellent stewards of the land.

So after numerous delicious meals, learning how to: milk, pasteurize, make cheese, make cheesecakes (to die for, seriously, if you're in the triangle area on a Saturday morning, go to the Midtown Farmers Market in Raleigh and by yourself one of these cheesecakes... mmmmmmmm), clean and sanitize a dairy kitchen, set up and maintain electric fencing, make fried green tomatoes (yum x 20) and ultimately, develop relationships with your goats.... we left Prodigal Farms on a Wednesday afternoon to head to Asheville, NC and couchsurf for a few days to both see the area that we had heard so much about, and to study for the GREs, which, at that time I thought I was going to take.

Long story short: I saw Asheville, I fell in love with Asheville and Ashevillians, and I'm pretty sure my heart is scattered in little tiny pieces all over that magical town.


Tim, Linda, Me and Cait!

Between our wonderful, kind, generous and beautiful host Linda and her boyfriend Tim; Dustin - the guy we met at a coffee shop who then took us to a friends house and then up on a hike to what we thought was a mountain vista (but was really a cell phone peak!); Rich and Greg, the brothers that we helped plant 20,000 trees in two days on their family land (and who will one day have their own Biltmore on that land!); and Alex, a queer musician we met while planting trees who shared a meal with us and her partner and made us feel completely at home and welcome in this wonderful city..... between all of these people, and the countless others that even just smiled at us as we shook our booties at the drum circle in the center of town on Friday night.... these glorious people made us feel so warm and gooey inside I think our innards turned to fondue.

Asheville just mesmerized us... and have I mentioned the food? Or the art absolutely everywhere? Or the number of successful local businesses that seem to just be thriving? And how about those freaking mountains!!! Everything about it, I just loved! Plus, Caitlin and I could hold hands! In the South! and it was great.

It was hard leaving... but onward we must go. We are currently at Little Short Mountain Farm in Liberty, TN. Attending potlucks and weeding brambles and reveling at being in a queer community again! I've just made French Onion Soup and I have to say that Kaitlin's at San Ysidro Farms was better... I'll have to get a hold of her to pass her recipe on so I can share her warmth with others!


Missing everyone who's come before and looking forward to all that's ahead!!

Carolina, one day i'll, someday i'll come home

In charlottesville to see the Avett Brothers - amazing as can be expected. Their energy, enthusiasm, sincerity is inspiring and heartbreaking at once.

Moved from Circle Acres where I'm pretty sure we became cob-enthusiasts for life, to Blue Heron Farms where we've fallen in love with warmth and wonder that exists in their community. Our wonderful host Tony and his son Jasper have made us feel at home in their home and their hospitality will forever be with us.

I'm pretty sure at this point, nearly a month into our trip, that it takes a certain kind of people to be interested in organic farming and trying to live as sustainably and without waste as possible. Those people are certainly for us.

Off to bed, to wake and drive to our next farm in the morning - Prodigal Farms, a goat dairy! Details to come, for now though, check out pictures at Cait's!

it sounds like, rockabye, rockabye baby

"i said today i am leaving, in every sense of the word - but i'm in love with your memory already, everything i've seen and heard." Ani DiFranco

San Ysidro Farms - how we'll miss it! Michael, Kaitlin, River and friends, let's not forget Rodeo, Nema, Obie and James!

From the beginning, the amazing hospitality and generosity we were greeted with couldn't have made our first stop any better. Granted, I don't think we helped much with their farming duties (and may have distracted them a bit from completing them!), but we certainly have nothing but the highest hopes for them and believe whole-heartedly that their hard times will pass and they'll be able to achieve all the goals they have for the land.

They've only been farming for less than a year and managed to start and maintain a 30 share CSA from the ground up on land that hadn't been farmed in ages! It's difficult though - between pests and droughts, farm maintenance expenses and general living expenses, it's a wonder many small farms are able to eke out a living. In the case of San Ysidro, they've resorted to jobs outside of the farm to help them sustain their desire to farm their land and from what we understand, it's what many farmers have had to do.

So why farm? When I asked Michael this question one night, he started talking very openly about how he felt it was important to eat something that's alive. You receive a life force, a certain energy when you eat fresh vegetables, and you're not strong unless you're eating something that's alive. In other conversations we had about the same topic, he spoke very passionately about how important it was to support small local farms, to allow people to live off the land and use the land in a healthy and productive way.

When the pests overtook San Ysidro Farms, they lost the rest of the crops and therefore the rest of their livelihood. However, Kaitlin informed me that when the corn farmer down the street lost most of their crop due to drought - they were still paid in subsidies by the government. They are neither organic, nor do they sell to the local community. Does this make any sense at all?

So it is with many well wishes that we left San Ysidro Farms early this week and traveled down to North Carolina where we've been for a full 48 hours and are already a little sunkissed and sore! We've been helping Danielle at Circle Acres build her cob house (learn more here.). It's an amazing, tiring, inspiring project that even in the two days we've been working on it with her, has brought together such a variety of people, all wanting to help pour more love into Danielle's future home!

Right now, we're at a co-op in Pittsboro North Carolina that provides the locals with delicious produce and a ton of great local and organic food options. Not to mention it has a great little cafe with ample indoor and outdoor seating plus dundunDUUUUUN wireless :) Loving Circle Acres so far - great people great food and great barn that we get to sleep in the loft of! Am settling much better into life on the road and looking forward to figuring out where we'll be next. "And I will go singing, as the solitude sets in, in time with the rhythm, of everywhere I have been!"

Wherever you are, you'll always be surrounded by love

"I think it'll float, I think it'll sail , We may take on waves, hit a gale -
but considering this love, most everything says I think it'll fly and I think it'll sing." -Sarah Harmer

I thought that somehow, as soon as Caitlin and I began our journey, I would experience some sense of radical change. While yes, it's only been four days since we've been on the road - I still have this nagging sense of worry and anxiety that I'm not maximizing the use of every day. At the same time that I'm telling myself to slow down and breathe, I'm making mental (and physical) to-do lists to help quell anxiety.

I suppose it doesn't help, that today I turn 25 years old, an official quarter of a century. I keep assuring myself that I'm happy to be 25 and living a life that I'm happy to live - traveling and farming and experiencing; truth is I'm not quite sure. It is scary - who knows what could happen, both during the trip and after we've decided the trip has come to an endpoint. I've been wavering back and forth about whether it is time for me to apply to graduate school and the work that would come with that over the next couple of months is daunting to say the least!

On top of that, though, is the fear I have of the world itself. I remember my roommate Lauren and I talking about how our imaginations had the tendency to run wild with all of the things that could go wrong/all the ways people could think of to murder us (I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE, IF YOU LEAVE NOW, I PROMISE I WON'T CALL THE COPS!). This fear comes on, unfortunately, most strongly at night. While sleeping in the tent at night on one hand is glorious, at the same time terrifying.

Maybe I've watched too much Law and Order: SVU, or just read too many crime-sensationalizing news stories; but I can't help see axe-murderers and hear criminally insane sanitorium escapees rustling through the woods towards our completely exposed and vulnerable resting space. This concept of sleeping in nature as relaxing and freeing is, at times, a harsh contrast to my startling awake at all hours of the night, certain that the acorns dropping from the trees are actually torture-seeking men, scoping us out as their next victims.

It's funny, we lock our doors and windows and install million dollar security systems, when really, at any point in time, if someone wants to harm you, they will. So how do you stop worrying about it, and just live? How do you let go?

But all is not so awful! I'm using this milestone in my life to start coming to terms with this immense fear. I'll grasp on to corny cliches, the only thing to fear is fear itself! and propel myself forward. If something is going to happen, it's going to happen. Of course I can take as many precautions as possible to prevent my demise (such as keep Vanessa, a naked lady knife gifted to Cait and I from Dave, in the tent next to my sleeping mat), but I can't spend all of my time thinking about it, fretting over it and worrying myself sick about it.

And as for my future, I have to stop fearing that as well. I know what I want to do and I just have to do it, not worry about all of the what-ifs. Plus, with the support and love of Caitlin, I think just about anything is possible.

More about farming and less about existential crises to come, I promise :)

i wanna sing that rock and roll

"I wanna 'lectrify my soul, everybody been makin' a shout, so big and loud, been drownin' me out. I wanna sing that rock and roll."

Been weeding and watering and squishing bugs between my fingertips. Also eating delicious food prepared by Kaitlin and being entertained by Michael's guitar playing and singing. Lots of music and sunshine.

I absolutely love sleeping and waking in the tent - I haven't talked about this yet, but basically, the rainfly for the tent we had was no longer waterproof. We underwent an intensive two day research process to cull the perfect tent for our needs (spacious, light, 150% waterproof, durable quality). Eventually, we found the Black Diamond 3 person Vista. It's incredible. All mesh top so that for the past few nights when it's been a little muggy and most definitely hot as we started to sleep, we just slept without the rainfly.

That was, of course, until we woke up at 5 am to some rain falling on our faces. We sprung up and staked down the fly and all was well.

I'm in love with the San Ysidro dogs and James, the cat.

We're getting ready to send out the letters for the next few farms in North Carolina (cutting it short, we know, who knew how busy our lives would be!) Will, of course, keep your posted :)

On the farm

One thing I know for certain: We have the best friends one could ever ask for. From Binghamton to New Haven to Philadelphia - we are surrounded by wonderful, generous, huge-hearted people. To have their support as we travel is a huge encouragement and I am so grateful for that!

After that lovefest we bring you back to our regular programming: After eating all of Tariq's delicious chicken stew and seeing a wonderful play with Piyali, we ventured forth to Philadelphia. As there is never enough time to spend with our favorite people, it took a long time to wrangle ourselves from the glorious grip of Cedar Haus. Around 1:30 pm on Thurs, September 23rd we embarked on our adventure.

I, citing lack of sleep, was a complete cranky-pants and Caitlin drove the whole way to San Ysidro, bless her heart. We met Michael around 7 pm as he was just finishing up some chores - watering the veggies and feeding the horses. He had to depart rather quickly to go help a friend and so we had some time to set up camp for the next week or so. Kaitlin came home around 10, we met and chatted for a bit and then both parties decided it was time to hit the hay.

It's absolutely beautiful here. There are horses, cows, chickens dogs, and a cat named James who is just a lover. Michael and Kaitlin are both kind people and we're excited to help them out a bit!

Let the games begin!

We could've passed through the beautiful country

"We were careless and mistaken / To drive so far at night / There's so much we never could see past the headlights.
We could have passed through the beautiful country and never even known it."
-Girlyman

We have a tendency to push leaving wherever we are to the last possible moment. Which is, of course, both good and bad. Good because you can enjoy wherever you are as much as possible, see those last few sights, talk a little bit longer to the people you're with. Bad because you end up driving at night, missing a lot of sights, and having less time to talk to the people you're going to see.

I can't help it though - when I am someplace, I just want to know more about it, see more, do more. I'm never really satisfied because I've never done all there is to do. Which is, of course, an impossible feat, but one that nags me.

On top of that, I have this awful habit of falling in love with wherever we go. As mentioned in the previous entry, I'm always on the prowl for the next goal, the next fin de la route. When I do meet a place and inevitably fall in love, I start envisioning myself in that location - going to classes, having babies, long walks along the lake (or river - I will live by either, and will not live without them) when I'm 80.

That being said - I want to live in Chicago. While traveling from Minnesota back east to Binghamton, Cait and I stopped in Chicago. We stayed at the Hostel International Chicago location for a whopping $40 a night/person - granted, not that expensive in terms of hotels in the city, but which was still a big expenditure for our budget-minded adventure. However, when we went out to dinner and realized that we were right in downtown Chicago (I believe they call it "the Loop" - we weren't even there 24 hours so didn't have time to learn the lingo), the price began to make a little more sense.

I am by no means an architectural critic, but Chicago makes me want to take a class, or live in the library for an extended period of time. I felt like Jack Nicholson in "As Good As It Gets" - Chicago makes me want to be a better person.

I woke up the next morning at 7 and continued a trend that I had started in Saint Paul while staying with Cait's family - a morning "wog" consisting of part walking, part jogging. We were literally a block away from Grant Park, so I wogged on over. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a garden, and not just your average tomato basil affair, either. It was a lovely plotted, world enhancing, biodiverse beauty, right there in the middle of Chicago. Upon further inspection, it was created by the amazing Milwaukee-based organization Growing Power. It's called the Grant Park "Art on the Farm" Urban Agriculture Pottager and you can read about it here.

After spending twenty minutes gawking, I finally made it over to Lake Michigan, where I proceeded to wog almost smack dab into a bench because I couldn't stop staring at the lake long enough to keep my eyes on the very clear path that was laid out before me. After that little mishap, I made it through the rest of the wog unscathed - I followed the path around the lake, then went along the river into the heart of downtown. The streets and bridges were buzzing with activity by this time, but down on the path there the few other joggers and I could enjoy the solitude and serenity of the water.

Wouldn't you also fall in love with a city like that? So grand in scope, accompanied by such sordid history? I remember reading Devil in the White City (about the Chicago World's Fair) and not really being able to imagine such a bright yet dark place. This short visit, however, has intrigued me more than any other place so far. I look forward to my possible future exploring what it has to offer!

At this point in our journey, we've spent some time in Binghamton with Rachael and friends for her birthday, camping on a beautiful hill, playing music and roasting marshmallows; have stopped in upstate NY to see my great family and meet my (basically) Uncle's pigs, cows and goats; and are currently in New Haven with Piyali and Tariq, loving their new house (congrats!) and all the amenities that come with having close friends who have a beautiful home and delicious food in their fridge to share with hobos like us.

Looking forward to our last pit-stop in Philadelphia before heading to San Ysidro Farms in Fredericksburg, VA. T-4 days, yikes!

Little Wings

"I don't wanna be a jetairliner, I just want to be a little bird. I don't wanna rip the sky right open, I just want my song to be heard; I don't wanna be state of the art, oh I don't wanna get there overnight, I just wanna be part of all this beauty, wanna be part of all this flight on little wings!"
-Kris Delmhorst

Caitlin and I are in Minnesota with her family. All of our stuff has been sorted and either stored or packed into our car. We've been doing some traveling to visit friends and family before we head out on our adventure and we've crammed it all into such a tight timeframe - a couple days here, a couple there. While I want to see everyone we're visiting (which is why we're visiting them!) the timeframe is frustrating.

Part of this journey, for me at least, is to become more comfortable with the in-between. Because my life has always been in some kind of upheaval, I tend to be very focused on "what's next" - an end goal that allows me to focus my energies and pour my hopes into some kind of stream that will guide me to the upcoming step I must take. I rush headstrong towards this climax and forget, a lot of the time, to both enjoy the ride and even moreso to maybe let it take me a little off the course I originally planned on.

While speeding to MN, I passed right by some of the most beautiful country I had ever seen. However, we had to be in MN to spend as much time with Cait's family as we could before we had to be back on the east coast in Binghamton for a good friend's birthday celebration. Dates, plans, obligations. All essential to our lives, of course. But hopefully, on this journey at least, their urgency and necessity will be temporarily suspended, allowing us to "be part of all this beauty, be part of all this flight."

T-10 days to our first farm, San Ysidro. So much to do before then! Will enjoy every minute of it, however.

Sorting the Laundry

"We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry." E.B. White

There's an interesting piece in the New York Times that was published on Saturday - "But Will it Make You Happy?". The article uses a couple that has rid themselves of all but 100 possessions as an example of Americans who are opting out of the culture of conspicuous consumerism in favor of a more experience-driven and fulfilling life.

The extremism of that couple aside, the article then goes on to discuss general trends that even giant corporations like Wal-Mart can't help but notice - people are coming to discover that having more things doesn't equate with more happiness. The desire for "simpler times" could be a result of the enormity of crises that the US is currently facing; or, Americans could really have started changing spending patterns to reflect dissatisfaction with how cluttered our lives have become.

Full disclosure? I have long been known by friends and family as a "pack-rat". I've peripherally heard of the show "Hoarders" but fear looking into it lest I see an image of me projected in a particularly unhealthy light.

I keep various found items for "art projects" in tupperware containers and bowls and wherever there's an empty shelf. My work space is usually designated by around fifty or so pieces of scraps with notes or sayings or poems, tacked up in a scattered, chaotic mess that makes me feel calm. Anything from a note from Caitlin - "Amy! I love you! so so much. - Caitlin" written while I was frantically never around and stressed out about senior year of college, to pictures of my grandfather, notes from my roommate in college, Judy Grahn poems, Adrienne Rich quotes, a pinwheel of common organic solutions to garden pests. Numerous postcards of gnomes and picasso and chinese fortunes - "the human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it."

Could I live without these things? Yes - but being surrounded by beauty and ideas that inspire me to create beautiful things is priceless.

In addition to all of these memories, however - I have movies and CDs and books - boy oh boy do Cait and I have books! Kitchen appliances and furniture and sports equipment and musical instruments and camping gear and shoes! Tshirts and sweaters and tshirts that hold sentimental value but neither of us would ever want to wear ever again. There's that question in the simplicity movement: when do you go from owning your things, to your things owning you? At one point I remember thinking that I didn't want to go on this monumental journey because I didn't want to have to deal with storing and going through all of these possessions.

But we will. Go through everything. Decide what's worth storing and beg friends and families for a corner of their basement or attic or spare room. As for the rest of the stuff - anyone want a broken sewing machine and a bunch of random fabric?

Cause it's a bittersweet, symphony this life.

"You're a slave to the money, then you die."

No my friends, that is not a fate for me. Today, officially, marks the end of both my job at the hip urban grocery store, and as a supervisor with the 2010 census. This day, Friday, August 6th, 2010, marks the first time since I was 15 that I was not working at least one (up to 5 at one point) wage-slave job. Taking up all of my time and barely paying me enough to get by.

It is most definitely not real, not at all. It's exactly like the feeling you have when you're on break after a semester at college - you wake up startled from a dead sleep, dreading the paper you have to turn in but you never started researching. I keep thinking, even right now, that there's something I'm supposed to be doing, something I have to turn in or something I didn't check. And I almost care.... almost.

So much to do, so little time! The farms we want to visit in Virginia have offically been contacted, and we've seen replies from a few. We're narrowing that last down and deciding our official dates to request WWOOFing space. We're making checklists of equipment we need, supplies we want to have, and things that are worthy enough of keeping in storage. This is by no means as easy to do as it is to type. But oh how great that would be!

My hands, they shake; My head, it spins

"Load the car and write the note. Grab your bag and grab your coat. Tell the ones who need to know - we are headed north."

This weekend Caitlin and I went to the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island. It was incredible - the music, the people, the ocean. Seeing Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore (with Yim Yames and eventually the Preservation Hall Jazz Band) was probably the highlight for me. The Avett Brothers, Andrew Bird, Brandi Carlile, The Low Anthem, Horse Feathers - all had great sets. Just as with farming - there's something really great happening right now with music. People rediscovering their voices and traditional instruments as methods to create these beautiful, thought provoking pieces of art.

Not only that, but the folk scene in general... it's really interesting to see the dynamic between the older generations - the ones that were most definitely at the first Newport - and the younger kids that are brought out by the acts that I previously mentioned - in particular the Avett Brothers. On Saturday, during numerous sets people would try to come up closer to the stage and stand/dance to the artists currently playing. A lot of the audience became infuriated and eventually got the staff to make all of the standers/dancers sit down.

I don't know where I'm going with this - but it was incredible to see the dancers eventually win out.. against the people who would have never, ever listened to anyone tell them to sit down and stop them from expressing themselves to the music when in their youthful hayday. In fact, I can never quite understand how people listening to music can sit without the rhythm infecting them. Its always been a bit perplexing, the "I can't dance" crowd. I may not be able to "dance" in the way our current society views dancing.. but I'll certainly shake whatever I have when the spirits move me to shake it!

I think the best part of the weekend, however, was our vagabond sleeping arrangements. Or, rather, lack of sleeping arrangements. We had purchased the tickets to the festival back in April, but hadn't really thought out where we were staying. After driving to a couple of hotels on the island on Saturday night, Cait finally asked if they had a policy about people sleeeping in their parking lot. After the guy at the desk basically said there wasn't a policy, nor was there a guard, we found a quiet, semi-dark corner and laid the seats down in the Honda Fit.

While somewhat nervous about people breaking into the car while we were sleeping, and both waking at various times to phantom knockings on the windows - it was a great nights sleep. I woke to the sun just barely rising around 5:45. After the strenuous task of waking Caitlin up, I hopped into the drivers seat and drove until I found the nearest beach. Just us and an older gentleman who described the cold ocean as "better than any cup of coffee" as he wrapped himself in a towel and walked to his car were on the beach at that time. To say it was beautiful would be an understatatement, of course. More importantly, it felt beautiful. While both of us still have our jobs to tend to... it felt, for a moment, as if our journey had already begun. We were free to get our feet wet, hell, to plunge right into the water and stay there for eternity.

Yes, it is extremely difficult to leave Philly right now - such great friendships, community and ideas are being built every day here - but this weekend only gave me a taste of what this next year could feel like. And I want more.

When Death Comes

When Death Comes (excerpt)
...
When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

-Mary Oliver


It is with the words of all those who have come before that I embark on this journey at all. The expectation that there is something more than this moment, this day.

That people everywhere are doing and acting and growing and the excitement of this shared adventure between us all; the unspoken camaraderie between the living.

What are we humans at our core? Hearts pumping blood and oxygen, neurons-flying and hormones racing, breathing, feeling individuals. A species with minds and consciousness. What people have created! What we are able to create!! Art, food, food as art, music and noise as music. Melody, tone, rhythm, syntax, language. The range of emotions, the need to express those emotions, the means to express those emotions!

It is with the weight of this all that I strive for tomorrow. The desire to be a part of it. To take part in it.

I received a card during my first year of college from a friend. it's a black square with white type,

what would you attempt to do
if you knew you could not fail?

Everywhere I've lived for the seven years since I received it, I've tacked it eyelevel in all of my workspaces. A reminder, daily, that my instinct of self-preservation - and moreover, self-doubt - has to be fought. I have to live intentionally, as if I am capable of anything.

Because I am. (and so are you.)

Hiatus Halted

The nature of life, or at least the nature I've come to terms with in my life, is such that plans sometimes have a way deviating from the course you originally desired.

While Caitlin and I wanted to leave early in the year of 2010 - for various reasons we were unable to. While the largest was due to dental care that I needed to both have and find a way to pay for - it didn't help that we were just having so much fun in Philadelphia. Between amazing roommates, great friends and a vibrant music and food scene - why pick up and run off?

Now, after a four month long stint as a supervisor for the 2010 Census - I've not only paid off my debts (student loans not included, ugh.), but have managed to save enough money to help us rest assured that we wont starve to death on the road. We've both given notice at our respective day jobs and are once again making preparations for the trip.

We plan on starting in Virginia in mid-September. Why Virginia?

1. Virginia is beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. I'm most definitely one of those cliched individuals whose heart can just stop when looking at certain horizons. The Shenandoah valley made me almost crash my car when I first laid sight on those mountainous landscapes.

2. Virginia has a lot of organic farming and sustainable living organizations currently in practice. It's really a state that has both the natural resources and community interest in farming. Why is this?

3. Its super close to Philadelphia! and other metropolitan areas - how does this affect the way the farms are able to orient their business? Do the farms exist to provide food for the cities, or CSAs and small communities?

4. Have I mentioned that its incredibly beautiful?

5. There's this Eddie from Ohio song called "Old Dominion" that glorifies sweet Virginia and throws down a gauntlet, that being from upstate NY and having visited Vermont in the fall, I just have to test out for myself: "You think that autumns in new england / are the greatest of them all, but give me sweet virginia for the fireworks of fall. The prettiest october in all the 50 states, just drive up to the skyline, park the car and wait."

6. Why not?

We've bought a new car, are slowly ridding ourselves of our furniture, begging friends to foster our beautiful cats for a year and are saying our goodbyes.

t-54 days. yikes!