Parting is such sweet sorrow

"Parting is such sweet sorrow" has been the major theme for this trip. After my visit with my Kansas family/friends (from here on out I'm going to say frams) I headed into . . .

Baby, it's cold outside

The temperature outside is a chilly, cold 32 (that's 0 centigrade for my European friends) so I'm not anxious to . . .

Know each other's job

Well, I left the house, as the doctor had ordered, although I don't believe I left the way she intended. With my loss fresh and wound cut deep, I gathered things and packed the Casita and truck, and called friends. I hitched the Casita and was ready to go the night before leaving. The morning of departure, I found my hands shaking. Dogs jumped in the truck with enthusiasm which helped my mood. Gathering all the strength I had, with trembling hands, I grasped the steering wheel and headed out on my first lone journey. Charley set me up well. While we had our departmentalized jobs in our relationship, I was keen to learn his and he mine. Knowing each other's job allowed me to do this, to take our Casita, Tara, out by myself.

The trip did add a distraction from my current state of mind. It also showed me I could do it, even though I knew I could. Doing it made it just made it a reality.

So my advice for all you in joint-travel mode adventures, whether pulling a Casita or something else, is to know each other's jobs. Know how to pack, to hitch, to drive, unhitch. Know what needs to be done on the inside: closed, turned off, buckled down. That way, you can continue because if your partner in life is like mine was, s/he would want you to continue.

Dawn in Dixon, NM (Odin and Cassie at the ready)