I went for a ride in my new car! I got out a few times and peed and pooped! Then, one time, when I got out, I was on a big mountain! Then I saw my Aunt Rose! She's my favorite dog in the world! She showed me her home! It's my favorite place in the world! She has horses and turkeys and cats! Horses are like big dogs! I just got back from a long walk! It's my favorite thing to do in the world! Now, I will take a nap! Snarfle!
- Willie
Friday, June 11, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
First Day at the Ranch
It really couldn't be more beautiful here at Hanging Valley Ranch, truly my favorite place in the world. I haven't felt this relaxed in months, nor have I had the chance to read for pleasure in as long. But I just picked up Tom Stoppard's Arcadia (at the recent recommendation of the lovely Erin Myers--and which for some strange reason I've never read), and as the wind whistles through the aspen trees I feel a sense of peace that has eluded me for some time. Watching our elated Willie run around the lush, green ranch with Rose (Aaron's parents' golden), I have a feeling that she is feeling something akin to the excitement and joy that I'm experiencing. But of course you'll have to read her posts to know for sure:)
Many thanks to our Chicago family and friends for the heartfelt send off, to our Signal family for excusing us from Aftermath strike, and to Ella, Norah, Lavay, & Leslie for keeping me awake with their illustrious voices on the long drive across the Midwest.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Adventure Begins
'When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked...I fear the disease is incurable.'
- John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley
When puzzling over how to start this record, nothing seemed to rise to the occasion. So, I figured I had better turn to one of the trip's inspirations to do it for me. Thank you, John.
It has officially begun. Three months on the road with my fiancee and our dog. The west is our playground and play we shall. We decided to start this chronicle so that we can look upon it in years to come and perhaps provide an interesting read now and again for our family and friends. No idea how often I'll be writing or what about. Figure it'll strike me when it strikes me.
The trip started out with a burst. The curtain closed on our show a little after nine and we were on the road by eleven. Eighteen hours from Chicago to Carbondale. Kept thinking about getting a hotel, but could never really see the point. Two hours of napping equalled four hours of driving...though I'm not sure the dog ever slept a wink. The road was straight, the traffic was sleeping, and I even learned something valuable. Driving across the plains in the heart of the night while listening to Woody Guthrie pluck away at this ole guitar is something everyone should do once. Couldn't tell you why. It just felt right.
It was a haul, no doubt, but well worth it...especially when the destination is Hanging Valley Ranch. There's a peace to this place I haven't found anywhere else. If it's out there, though, we'll find it in the months to come.
Here's to the search.
- snook
- John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley
When puzzling over how to start this record, nothing seemed to rise to the occasion. So, I figured I had better turn to one of the trip's inspirations to do it for me. Thank you, John.
It has officially begun. Three months on the road with my fiancee and our dog. The west is our playground and play we shall. We decided to start this chronicle so that we can look upon it in years to come and perhaps provide an interesting read now and again for our family and friends. No idea how often I'll be writing or what about. Figure it'll strike me when it strikes me.
The trip started out with a burst. The curtain closed on our show a little after nine and we were on the road by eleven. Eighteen hours from Chicago to Carbondale. Kept thinking about getting a hotel, but could never really see the point. Two hours of napping equalled four hours of driving...though I'm not sure the dog ever slept a wink. The road was straight, the traffic was sleeping, and I even learned something valuable. Driving across the plains in the heart of the night while listening to Woody Guthrie pluck away at this ole guitar is something everyone should do once. Couldn't tell you why. It just felt right.
It was a haul, no doubt, but well worth it...especially when the destination is Hanging Valley Ranch. There's a peace to this place I haven't found anywhere else. If it's out there, though, we'll find it in the months to come.
Here's to the search.
- snook
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