99. The First Step is a Doozy

Two hours into the flight. Two and a half to go, or something like that. What I affectionately refer to as my cyborg assembly- the collection of titanium rods and screws and bone grafts and denuded bone tissue that makes up my lower spine and left hip- is starting to throb. It'd be nice to get up, stretch, walk around, maybe pee.

That's Lake Tahoe. 

98. The Desert of Ideas

I think I've written about everything of interest. Or maybe I've run out of interesting things to write about. I sat on our back deck and stared at the sun going down and tried to think of something to write about. Not having a job? Beer? The Higgs Boson? Redo Plato's Allegory of the Cave, but using television, and do it in a sonnet? Beer?

Maybe I should write about my curly, silver locks. 

Maybe I should give this whole gig up.

97. How Do You Get Rid of Things?

Back when I was writing in...prose, I guess-- although that sounds too lofty a term to apply to this thing-- in this blog,  I wrote while we were in an airport about our stuff. How all our things had been cut down to what could fit into a giant backpack and bag full of electronics each. There were times when Megan and I would talk about all our stuff waiting for us in the US wistfully. But now that we're actually back, and all that stuff is staring at us, it's overwhelming. I no longer need all this stuff. I have too many clothes and books and dishes and blankets and toys and...boxes of things that have no use to me. I have boxes that I packed when I moved from North Carolina that have not been unpacked in ten years. There's nothing in them that I need or use, but they are full of the past and feel like a part of me.

That purple velvet is wrapped around all my little dragon figurines.
 They've been that way since 2002.

And as such I find it hard to let them go.

96. Moving Puts the Ack in Back

The process of settling back in is now going slowly. We got our all our boxes moved in one day, and then got Jack the next day. Now we're just trying to find a place for everything.

95. Kitty!

Jack is back! We have our kitty again! Huge, massive thanks to Anup and Alena, who cared for him and kept him fat and happy and obviously loved.

King Under-the-Table

94. In Case I'm too Wrung Out to Write...

We're back in Davis, Dearies! Megan's mom drove us down today and we spent the whole day unloading our storage space and carting all our crap back to our apartment. Good lord, so much crap. I will tell you about it in detail, but not tonight. I'm too hurty and tired. I did, however, on the way down the mountain, write a sonnet for tonight on the off chance that I didn't feel up to writing one now. So that's what you get.

One last look at that wretched hive of scum and
 villainy that is Mos Eisley. I will miss you, Reno.

93. The Edge of Reality

Tomorrow we go back to Davis, y'all. Nigh unto a year of sometimes-focused, sometimes-aimless, occasionally-intense, and too-often-slothful journeying and abroadening is about to end. Tomorrow we move back in to our old apartment, make plans to retrieve our sweet kitty, and slide back into a semblance of our old lives. But I have some trepidation; I'm not yet sure what I'll be doing to bring home the baconnaise, and as we've gotten closer to the date that uncertainty has weighed more and more heavily upon me.

I fear the Undiscovered Country.