Anticipating

We haven't left, yet. We haven't finished packing. I still have delusions of grandeur about how much housecleaning I will accomplish before our pre-dawn train departure. We won't be out of the country, or even this time zone. But, I am already homesick. Or, at least, I am feeling anticipation. I will be homesick. I will want Chango to sleep around my head, and talk to me in the wee hours. I will want to see Cairo carry his ratty-rat around the house, and curl up at Geoff's feet. I will want to cut new bundles of sweet peas, and watch the peaches for signs of ripeness, catch them before the birds. For several happy months I have been in a giddy state of happy anticipation of traveling to Portland, of introducing the boys to moss, waterfalls, tree shaded streets, and countless other PNW delights and joys. I have been imagining the Oregon coast, late night pajama parties with my mommy, sleeping in the redwoods. It will be a wonderful adventure... I know it. So, why? Why am I already a bit homesick?

Oh, Cairo. How will I last without your withering look of judgement? Geoff, if I find a riverside cottage, with a huge workshop, will you bring the goats and chickens and cats, and all of our friends, and meet us there? If not, then I will be home, soon... I miss you, already.