I don't know that I have the stomach to muse too much on the year 2010. Or work on my 2011 prophecies. Or resolve to be more than I am. 

But what I do know is that I am changed by the adventure of getting my trailer home this past summer. There came a transcendental moment, forgive me, but that's all I know to name it, somewhere along the road. The past was too far behind to touch me and the future was safely held at bay. Mighta been in Moab, or maybe in Albuquerque. Yes, about the time I dropped offline. 

My perception of reality got both less and more sharp. I could breathe, deeply, in a way that made me realize how oxygen deprived I had been. A perfect moment; state of being. Uncomplicated. Connected, but free. 

Of course, the crash back to my day-to-day life was brutal. Problems, both solvable and those that just have to be endured, have pushed me hard these past few months. 

But, the mirage of a better future, the scent of fresh ideas, the buoyancy of life-long friendships... the gift of that magical time, the space and journey. It smashed me open. Reassembled the broken parts in me. Made my picture different. 

I'll conclude by saying I vigorously recommend taking on or doing something this coming year that seems impossible, impractical and slightly dangerous.  Preferably something that occurs to you at 3 am when you are off your guard and your True Self might be whispering to you over your Sensible Self's endless drone. 

Peace & Joy Always. 

Q: So, did y'all die in a fiery crash? Run off to Mexico? Abandon the trailer on the side of a road and just walk away? 
A: Ummm, no. We just got to having waaaay too much fun to stop and blog, especially as staying wired was a bigger challenge than expected. 

Q: Are you just too good to blog now? Too high falutin'? 
A: Sorry. Just mired in elder care issues. Spending time between Oregon with my parents and Texas with my family. 

Q: Do you have any advice for anyone who inherits or otherwise succumbs to a trailer at an improbable location? 
A: Yes. Listen closely, children: Do. Not. Attempt. This. Without. Your. Girlfriends. It's alllll about the right team. 

Q: How far was the planned 2,500 mile trip? 
A: 3,105 miles, thankyouverymuch. 

Q: Where is the lovely silver lady now? 
A: She's been summering in a friend's pasture, just outside of Houston. Hopefully drying out. 

Q: When're you gonna git back on the horse? 
A: Oct 22-24 we will be at the Vintage Trailer Rally in Bastrop, Texas at the State Park. C'mon out! 
Sorry, yall. I've been too busy living my vacation to get updates on dicey internet connections out there. We're gonna have a few “guest bloggers” pop up here to pick up the slack...

Laura, girl, you're up.

Why? Why? Why? 
Why is it that blog writing makes a person unable to rite a centance or puntuate wurth a dam? I mean, I dun been to kollege and evethin, and I swear, I kan't write nuttin good no how on dis here blog. It all goes krazy like and reading it is painfull. 
I apolojise now four hurting your head readers. I yam soo sory. I will try to doo gooder. That is alll. 
Yes, I am resurfacing. 

I think 14 months between posts is a refreshing alternative to assuming people want you in their face every other day. I mean, how much of my insouciant charm do you need? 

Ahem. Awkward moment. I'm not really buying it either. 

Ok, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's just that, well, life got way too terrifying. My brave-in-the-face-of-advesity face, well, it melted in the face of the extended-dance-remix nightmare my life became. The long dark night of the soul, blah, blah, blah. Basically, I can deal with anything as long as I can laugh about it. And it turns out, things were very, very unfunny for a long while. 

And, truthfully, it's not all peaches and cream now. But, the peculiar thing that happens mid-disaster is that you finally see the wisdom (or inevitability) of surrendering to it. After barely surviving 2008, I zoned out and endured 2009. And when I woke up in 2010 I was just plain ole sick of feeling oppressed. So, I let it all go. I decided my life was mine to drive, life is short, break the whole thing apart and make something new. And once I stopped being afraid, a lot of clarity came. 

What does all that gobilty gook mean? I have no idea. But I do know I stopped desparately trying to super glue my old life back together. I ceased and desisted in trying to find meaning on why things happen. It does not matter. What was, is gone. What is left I can make a life of, or start over. All I know is I stopped struggling and it got better. (Am I dead? No? Really? Ok, ok, just checking.) 

So, that is my vague explanation for my year plus hiatus. Life is complicated, painful, and often sad. And yet I still feel like I am a joyful person, enjoy the sublime pleasure of a perfect slice of watermelon with a squeeze of lime juice on it, and have the greatest friends in the world.

Now, let's get back to trailer-related fun and off of this maudlin track. Sheesh. Finally.