What have we done??

The night before our grand departure, we hardly slept. Way past midnight, we were still stuffing our computer and printer into boxes, praying they'd be protected by the Goddess of all Electronics as USPS escorted these across the great divide. Our cats sat staring, stressed as to why we were creating such havoc and mayhem. They frequented their food bowls more than usual. My fuzzy compulsive eaters proved once again that them apples clearly didn't fall far from their human tree.

I realized that I have been in such go-go-go mode that I hadn't been able to stop, drop and feel anything. Friends seemed to be displaying a plethora of behaviors - some were so sad and rather teary; some withdrew or disappeared altogether; some admitted that they were in denial, that since we still had our home, we were bound to return; some thought we were crazy for leaving a nice home, Rachel's cushy job and the best, most liberal, most diverse, grooviest place on Earth, California. Some were angry that we were abandoning them; Some offered a behavioral bouquet of all of these. I watched the reactions, mostly feeling removed, which was puzzling to me, since, as many of you know, a lack of feelings is not exactly my modus operandi.

We were slated to leave at 11 AM on Saturday morning when the first blue moon of 2020, also called the Wolf moon, was reigning upon our transformation. Many friends surprised us by dropping by for another hug, one last goodbye. We left at 2:30 PM, but not before we walked through our home one last time. We reminisced about raising our sons here, about the Shabbat meals, the Sukkot we built, the care packages for the homeless, the friendships that blossomed, some that had withered, adventures that were planned at the kitchen table and how we grew and changed.

Once in our van, I got so excited. Our dream was now becoming a reality. I had no idea what was to come, what we'd experience, whom we'd meet. Our first destination was Buttonwillow, CA, where  we were to meet our friends Darcy and Annette from Oregon. We'd be travelling with them for as long as we, and they, had wanted.

We left the sluggish 80 traffic and whizzed on 580 past green hills covered with white windmills. The sun skewered its last rays, toasting marshmallow clouds in Central California and we reunited with our friends at a Love's truckstop, exponentially outnumbered my men and their big rigs. I  appreciated Rachel's brilliant notion to download all our CDs as I grooved to an African beat preparing our dinner of butternut squash, curried cabbage, chorizo tofu and chicken. As you may know, I don't mess around when it comes to food...

The next morning after a lovely breakfast of my favorite pineapple smoothie (thanks to our generator powered blender), as well as yogurt, soynuts, homemade applesauce, baked apples and Jetost cheese and peet's coffee, we headed to meet our son, Matan and his girlfriend, Marisa in Pasedena. 

We had a sweet time with the lovely couple and afterwards Rachel took Gingi out to frolick, It's an experiment and a balancing act to provide our quirky cats an outdoor environment on the road. Gingi recollected his ancestral roots and becme a hunter. Within 5 minutes, he caught and decapitated a lizard, consuming only it's head. At home, he yawns at the birds outside from his couch. On our travels, Gingi enjoys long, chaperoned walks along dry river banks and eating from an array of international delights meant for humans. Why do I feel like I'm writing a personals ad?


We meandered past the snow-covered San Gabriel mountains outside of LA and ended up on a date farm in Indio, CA. The farm titillated us with a showing of "The Romance and sex of a Date" coupled with a promise of a fecund garden strewn with Jesus sculptures. There was no way I was going to miss that irreverent combo, however, the garden had closed early botching my anticipated delight at interactive art possibilities  and selfies with my homie JC.

From there, we headed to the Desert Holocaust Memorial for something more grounding and somber, a beautiful and haunting sculpture commemorating the horrors that had happened.

That evening, sitting in Ruby, listening to Kenyan sounds, I felt grateful to have our friends over for dinner yet again and wondered when was the last time I remembered having friends over for several meals in a row, on several consecutive days.  The answer was never or at least, not since college.

That night, we slept poorly at a truck stop: the rigs honking, the generators buzzing like flies on a carcass, the loud speaker voice over shouting at 3 AM and again at 5 AM. I was not happy!

While Darcy and Annette continued to our intended destination, the Women's Rubber Tramp Rendezvous to check in, we hightailed it to the southern entrance of Joshua Tree National Park. Unfortunately the famous Joshua trees were found in the Northern part of the park only, so we got our brand-spanking new America the Beautiful National Park Passport stamped, circled some cacti and creosote and rejoined the gals in Parker, AZ's Walmart, for some vital vittles.




We had met an adorable solo lesbian at Joshua Tree who told us that a Rainbow Warriors gathering of gals had set camp near the event, so off we went to look for the leaping lesbians. After a bit, we found them and joined the bonfire under the Southern Arizona skies. I looked to the heavens and wondered when had I seen the milky way nod to an orange moon climbing the branches of a spiky, spindly tree. It's been a long time since I've occupied this home, my nature, so I breathed the air for which I longed.