Lord I Was Born a Ramblin ( Wo ) Man......

We finally are headed north ! As I write this ( we have a new E.V.O.D card that allows us to access the net wherever there is cell coverage) we are driving north on the 101 to an organic permaculture farm in northern Washington, where through a mutual friend, we have found temporary work ! I will probably not t have regular net or cell phone access while there, (I will be able to go into town or use a land line to check eBay auctions though) so this will be my last post for a week or maybe more . It was quite difficult to get Moss's pre trial changed, but we did it after much back and forth phone calling to the lawyers. It is now set for December 5th instead of oct 17. That means we will have to drive back here in the next month or so, but for now we are northward bound !


Santa Barbara is lovely and has been nice to us but it was so time to leave. I can always tell when it is time to really move on because a place starts to look and feel different, sort of empty feeling and desolate . This is however different from actually wanting to leave and feeling as though it is time to leave. We can want to leave a place badly, but if it is not really time to leave then it becomes quite difficult. I have seen this time and time again in my travels over the years. Some towns have a particularly strong hold, New Orleans is one of them. The other reason I know it is really time to leave is the steady stream of visitors throughout the day and being unable to take a walk on the beach without running into someone I know. Don't get me wrong, we love meeting people but it can get tiring when all I want is a little privacy.


Living in such a high profile home tends to attract a lot of attention. People see our bus and make all sorts of assumptions about us. They often identify us, correctly, as free spirited, caring and open minded people. Certainly, like everyone we have our many flaws, but we do strive for this ideal. Because of this, unlike folks in a conventional RV, we regularly attract a LOT of people, of all backgrounds who come looking for healing and someone to talk to. We don't mind this at all and are happy to listen and give and receive energy to a person when we can, but it can sometimes be scary and a bit difficult to read someones real intentions and allow them into our home. We often have trouble defining our personnel boundaries and knowing where to draw the line. Now, with a baby things are even more complicated as we want her home to be a safe and healthy place. It just seems that sometimes the rules that apply to those who live in brick and mortar houses are different than those that apply to rolling homes. This is understandable, to a certain extent and is part of why I love travel, but it can be complicated at times.


For example, this week we were sitting in the bus reading when there was a knock at the door and a voice called out


" Spare a little time for an old Vietnam vet ? " followed by, " Permission to board ?" in a very military sounding voice.


I went to the doorway to see a weathered looking bearded, grey haired man wearing a faded black cap with the words "Vietnam vet" on it and a huge back pack. He was a bit dirty and smelled of whisky, but my heart went out to him. These kinds of situations can be difficult as it requires one to make a character judgment of a person in the space of a few seconds. So far we have never been wrong, but there is always that possibility. When I was younger and hitchhiking around the country by myself I got a lot of practice in this art form. When someone pulls over and offers a ride, you have about twenty seconds to asses the person and make the right decision. I rely a lot on my gut instinct and intuition.


Moss and I looked at each other and shrugged,I turned back to the fellow and told him,


"O.k, but leave your pack outside "


He put his pack down and hobbled into the bus, sitting down on the bench, thanking us repeatedly. We then began over an hour long conversation consisting of him crying hysterically and reliving, in vivid detail , story after story of his time in nam. He showed us bullet holes, where he was damaged by agent orange and cried bitter tears for his brother William, killed in combat. This was a broken man and my heart went out to him. The intensity of his emotion was frightening and we did not know what else to do so we just listened, which I think was all he wanted anyway. At one point I reached out and grabbed his hand and he seemed to appreciate this. When he was finished we offered him some food, which he ate then thanked us and went on his way.


This is just one example of an often repeated scenario, with a varying cast of characters, all with stories to tell, some sad, some happy, some rich, some poor, all just wanting to share.


Anyway, Sage is doing well and seems to enjoy traveling, though this will be her first long trip. We are trying to provide a sort of stability in our day to day rituals to counter the constant stream of new places and people that she encounters. I think she is adjusting well. I took a series of photos of her, my favorite to date, showing the first time on her belly and having "floor time".


I have included them below.....