The end/beginning of our adventure. And really, is there ever any beginning or ending of our adventure? So here's a point in our adventure that seems more significant than some others, is all I can say, I guess. We crossed the country. We survived thus far, and really had a very good time doing it. Never in all my life have I seen such a tolerant, agreeable 3-year-old. After five days in a carseat, she beamed on us and said, "Are we all done?" It was such a good idea to keep the little boys in separate cars-the fist fights were considerably fewer than they might have been. In the night, while we slept, the heavens gently washed the dirt I'd brought with me all the way from California off my tired van. Symbolic? Ah, who knows.
Thank you to those of you who've traveled with us, cheering us on, loving us along the way, even when we were getting farther and farther from some of you. I've appreciated it more than I can say, the feeling that we were held and cared for and watched as we went. It makes going into the unknown easier, when at least I'm not going there alone.
I know there are new stories here, new things to show you (you'll have things you'll want to talk about, I...will...too *key change*), more adventure to be had. There are still a lot of stories to tell from where we've been, of course. For now, we're so happy to be out of the car, so glad that there's a little rain to greet us, grateful for friends and family who love us, and ready to get on with the search for home.