We are never quite the same from breath to breath. Always in motion, always observing, always learning something new, we peregrinate through life. In my case, that means being on the road – or on the toad – a lot.
I have a hard time remembering everywhere I’ve lived. My parents moved often. It seems to have created a sense of adventure in me since I’ve moved often. Whether across the town, across the state, across the nation, or across an ocean, I’ve either got a serious case of wanderlust or I’m part gypsy.
Along the way I lost almost all my beloved books. If only the ones I miss the most came in e-book editions!
I left Alaska behind the last time I made a big move. I’ve missed it ever since. Alaska is, to date, my greatest adventure and my deepest love. My soul lives there. Nothing will ever compare to the Northern Lights, ice fog at -55F, alpenglow on the Chugach range, and the overnight change in the air that told you winter was on the way.
I’ve been in Massachusetts for eighteen of the longest years of my life. It has been the greatest test of my endurance. I’m a woman of northern latitudes, but western American longitudes. It has been a cultural catastrophy in many regards.
My greatest gain here has been my deep and abiding relationship with the Grove of the Golden Leaves in Manchester, NH.
My greatest loss has been impossible to calculate since I’ve yet to overcome the ramifications of the life-changing fall down a flight of stairs.
For over a year I’ve pondered going home to Alaska. It is where my heart lies. Then I think of the ice that lasts until mid-May and the screws and rod that have taken up residence in my body. Added to that, most of my friends have flown the Alaskan coop.
Instead, I’ve met ex-pats on-line who live in Mexico. Some live in central Mexico, most seem to live in Baja California, Mexico or El Norte. It has a great appeal of being Western longitude. Warm weather to ease my aching bones. Days full of opportunity to take endless walks near the beach with my little fur boon-companion who alerts me to noises I need to be aware of.
My daughter and grandkids are used to the idea that Grandma is going to go on the road again – this time looking for a warmer climate where I can spend the rest of my life.
This is my story. From my earliest memories to my journey across America and into Mexico. Maybe the grandkids will read it someday. Y’think?