The day before taking off somewhere, anywhere, spikes the emotion meter significantly. I do not want to be far away from those whom I love. I do not!
But, without question, I get excited. The flight connections (even tomorrow's bus ride to Chicago and eight hour layover in Detroit) never seem too bad, the packing is easy, thoughts stray to being in a different place, sleeping in a room with a novel view, taking new walks along new roads. All this is beyond cool.
Even though I do not want to leave those whom I love.
It's good to have a busy and full day. I distract myself from the "leaving" part of travel and concentrate on getting things done.
Right after breakfast...
I get organized: farmhouse needs a once over, suitcase needs to be packed. My trip is short -- I'm leaving tomorrow, returning Friday next week. Still, I need to travel wisely and simply and that requires some thought.
And in the late morning, I am with Snowdrop. I find her where I left her -- under the table!
For much of the morning, we practice standing. Not by a chair or table but in the middle of a vast open space. She knows she is vulnerable...
...and she is always tempted to take the easy road and just sit down!
... but of course, when she stands tall and steady, she beams with pleasure and confidence.
And after, we spin around and jiggle and jounce, all to the music of her music class songs and she is a happy girl indeed.
In the afternoon, I take the girl out of her usual routines and cart her downtown. I have a bus ticket to pick up, a take-out dinner to buy.
Snowdrop is... puzzled: garages? Elevators? Clothing stores? (I thought I'd pop into one or two to see the state of fashion these days.)
We walk along State Street, pop into the Union, stroll out onto the dock by the lake. Bicycles, Snowdrop, they're all riding bicycles!
Yes, she gets that the world is vast and wonderful. But her real smile comes when we finally return home. This is where we process all that we experience elsewhere.
God, I'm going to miss all my variously situated young families!
And, too, the guy who'll keep the farmette running in my absence.
I really should pack.
But, without question, I get excited. The flight connections (even tomorrow's bus ride to Chicago and eight hour layover in Detroit) never seem too bad, the packing is easy, thoughts stray to being in a different place, sleeping in a room with a novel view, taking new walks along new roads. All this is beyond cool.
Even though I do not want to leave those whom I love.
It's good to have a busy and full day. I distract myself from the "leaving" part of travel and concentrate on getting things done.
Right after breakfast...
I get organized: farmhouse needs a once over, suitcase needs to be packed. My trip is short -- I'm leaving tomorrow, returning Friday next week. Still, I need to travel wisely and simply and that requires some thought.
And in the late morning, I am with Snowdrop. I find her where I left her -- under the table!
For much of the morning, we practice standing. Not by a chair or table but in the middle of a vast open space. She knows she is vulnerable...
...and she is always tempted to take the easy road and just sit down!
... but of course, when she stands tall and steady, she beams with pleasure and confidence.
And after, we spin around and jiggle and jounce, all to the music of her music class songs and she is a happy girl indeed.
In the afternoon, I take the girl out of her usual routines and cart her downtown. I have a bus ticket to pick up, a take-out dinner to buy.
Snowdrop is... puzzled: garages? Elevators? Clothing stores? (I thought I'd pop into one or two to see the state of fashion these days.)
We walk along State Street, pop into the Union, stroll out onto the dock by the lake. Bicycles, Snowdrop, they're all riding bicycles!
Yes, she gets that the world is vast and wonderful. But her real smile comes when we finally return home. This is where we process all that we experience elsewhere.
God, I'm going to miss all my variously situated young families!
And, too, the guy who'll keep the farmette running in my absence.
I really should pack.
