there and back again

or...beryl sets the tone

Well—we did it!

At least the comics declare it to be true.

So I guess I will believe—

—that a month ago we locked the front door and headed off—

—and four weeks/6617.8 miles later¹ we drove back up to the house.

In between—well—

—we followed the days from end to end.

In Vermont we met a fox with things to say—

—and in South Dakota some Buffalo ignored us completely.

We chatted with an Iowa City ice cream fairy who gave Beryl a pup cup.²

And for two weeks we got to stay in a marvelous little cabin in the New England woods.

We still had to drive to connect with the family stuff

But there was always time on both ends of the day—

—to explore—

—and swing— ³

—and commit to a thing I’d never done before.

It was agony and ecstasy for sure—and really worried Beryl. ⁴

(The Wood Frogs in the pond didn’t seem to approve either).

But then several times Beryl careened through patches of unknown woods, almost out of sight and as though she had been born there—and that in turn made me nervous. So I guess it all evened out.

Even the best of travel companions can’t be in perfect harmony every second.

I certainly didn’t expect Beryl to be as thrilled as I by the paint Jodi gave me on our way through Butte (even though eggshell indigo is so her color).⁵

But I was delighted that she (Beryl that is), seemed to accept my milkweed obsession—

—or at least tolerate it.

Happily for both of us, there were lots of strolls:

— in wet places—

— in dry places—

—and in parking lots in the places Beryl was not allowed to go on the trails.

Luckily, the meadowlarks didn't care who or where you were. So many beings don’t. And that is a fine thing.

There is so much I could (and probably yet will), share about this past month on the road⁶— at least once I’ve had time to absorb it rather than simply be in it if you know what I mean.

But just now as I try to remember how to make coffee in my own kitchen, I find myself bemused—

—exhausted—

—and hungry.

So I guess for now we’ll eat, rest, draw—and be back next week with whatever shows up.

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1. This is more miles than I usually drive in two years, so there is much I need to contemplate about the impact of this style of peregrination. Perhaps next time I’ll walk…

2. I’d never heard of a “pup cup” before, but when the lovely woman at this glorious Iowa City Dairy Queen offered one to Beryl, what could I do but say yes?

3. My father is a champion swing-maker and builds them wherever he lives. They always have big wide board seats and a loooooong sweep. All have a compelling view. My sister and I used to simultaneously leap onto one of them at our house in New York and swing in tandem, waaaay out over a steep hill. We though we were wildly athletic. And maybe we were!

4. I’ve never done this super cold water dip thing before— and I’m not sure I’ll do it again unless I just happen to be living right by an ice cold pond where it is sufficiently private to skinny dip — at least at dawn. But GOLLY was it amazing. After ten days I could stay in for, oh, I don’t know — a whole minute?

The sense of privacy is a little tricky because though this is my father’s cabin (designed by my mother), the land around it is in a conservation easement/trust thing so the paths can be be freely walked by anyone who wants to go there. This is a wondrous thing for the neighbors and people in the area (read Antonia Malchik’s amazing Substack On The Commons for more on the right, or lack thereof, to roam), though it does make living out my mother and grandmother’s firm belief in the efficaciousness of skinny dipping (and my loathing of bathing suits), just a little risky—at least old-lady-body-image-modesty-wise.

5. OMG—the Graphite! The Eggshell Indigo! The Bone Black! Jodi Gear’s work continues to blow me away. Even if you’re not going to grind foraged rock, precipitate dyes to make lakes, or create pigment sticks with said ground rocks and foraged clay, I recommend checking out her Youtube Channel . The videos are compelling, soothing (especially sprawled—exhausted and road-weary—across a motel bed), and enlightening all at once (lightfastness, longevity, chemistry, geology — she is studying and addressing them all). The videos are also very pretty.

6. I did not adore the ticks or the traffic, was not super happy about having to get new brakes (though glad to have them), and sometimes the weather was a little worrisome—but truly I was actually extremely fortunate in this area (as Jodi said, I threaded the needle between some intense storms). And you can’t have everything, especially in April.

From my photos and descriptions you might think that this entire trip was just Beryl and me and the road, and though most of it was (at least the traveling part which was over half of the four weeks away), my father’s 90th birthday was amazing and while among them I got to be astonished once again by my absolutely awesome family: father, sister, brother, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, niece, nephews, son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter, every one as interesting, charming and engaged in her or his life as the next. How lucky can you get?

There were friends all along the way I would love to have seen and spent time with too, but this was not that kind of trip—and it behooved me to accept it. Methinks that there might be yarn and friend-centric next time…But not today. Or tomorrow :-)