As we packed boxes at our condo in South Florida, we marked with pink packing tape the boxes that would go on with me to Wesley Seminary housing. As the movers unloaded the moving van at our Arden house, we kept those boxes in one area. We decided it would be a good idea for me to take a load of boxes to my sister's house in Maryland, which is very close to the seminary. I've got a lot of boxes coming with me.
The seminary housing is furnished, but I still need things like dishes, cookware, sheets, and towels. And art supplies and cloth for the quilt(s) I plan to make. And books--lots and lots of books.
Yesterday I left my friend's house in Charlotte; I was returning her cooler and picnic basket and also enjoying the chance for a quick visit. She's lived in the house for 15 years and transformed a basic suburban house into an urban homestead, complete with chicken coop. What an amazing space.
From Charlotte, I travelled up I77, which was delightfully empty, once I left Charlotte. After an hour, the climb up the mountains began. I'm sure there were amazing vistas, but I was concentrating on the winding road. I was in the larger car, the Nissan Rogue, that I don't drive very often, so I felt the need to stay hyper vigilant, even though the car has more safety features than my Prius sub-compact model.
In Virginia, I hopped in I81, which still offers plenty of lovely mountain vistas. Here and there, I caught site of a beautiful farm, the kind of farm that is the larger version of a homestead like the kind my friend is creating in Charlotte. I spent many formative years going back and forth across these mountains; I went to high school in both Charlottesville and Knoxville, so these ranges feel familiar. It's been so many decades, yet much remains the same in terms of what one sees out of the car window.
I enjoy a long car trip, and I was lucky to stay within range of NPR stations. The car is so unfamiliar to me that I forgot to bring my CDs, just in case I needed them. These days, I tend to listen to the radio on a long car trip; gone are the days of mix tapes made specifically for a road trip.
I made excellent time--I was at my sister's house by 2 p.m. We put my carload of boxes in her storage unit, picked up some provisions, and got settled in before the afternoon thunderstorms rolled through. We had a great time catching up, and it's wonderful to realize that, with luck and grace, the coming years should offer more opportunity for similar visits.
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