This past weekend we traveled over 900 miles, from Lincoln, Nebraska back down to Montgomery, Texas just north of Houston, over the course of three days. We are in the final weeks before we get our new trailer and we have some last minute things to finish up down here. We should have finished them when we were here in June - but we were so hot, so tired, so overwhelmed - that we decided to head north in search of some rest and cooler weather.

About two weeks ago we sort of came to our senses and realized it was time to quit galivanting around the Midwest and get back down here and finish our tasks.

We still have stuff in a storage pod that needs to be unloaded and sorted through. Some of the things will go into long term storage but most of it will go into the new camper or be given away. Another layer of culling. Whittling our lives down to the barest of essentials with each step.

And the whittling seems to extend beyond our worldly goods. We are shedding things in all aspects of our lives. Some expected, some unexpected. We have days of lighthearted joy and days of deep grief as it all falls away. It seems to be part of the process but fortunately we are beginning to feel lighter and lighter each step of the way. And slowly the difficult days are becoming farther and farther apart. We still have them, but they are also whittling down.

We have fifteen nights left in this Betty which has taken us so far and given us so many lovely memories. We will trade her in on the 19th of August and then have four weeks to wait for our new Airstream. We have rented an AirBnB in Tulsa for our son’s visit in late August that allows dogs and has a backyard - a luxury I am not sure we will know how to handle.

And we have decided to take me and the dogs back to California to stay with my parents while Jason heads back to Dallas with the truck - hoping to cause as little stress to the dogs as possible - boarding them in California at the place they love while I fly out to Dallas for delivery day. Then Jason and I will drive back to California (sans dogs), pick up the girls, and get our new Biggest Betty set up while staying with my parents. It wasn’t part of the original plan, but while discussing our options on a long bike ride in Des Moines, we landed on this plan.

We expect to officially hit the road with Biggest Betty on the first of October. Heading first to Salt Lake City to see family, up to Lava Hot Springs to soak in the the water, and then down the west coast. Fingers crossed we will be in Germany for Christmas if everyone will just go get their vaccinations.

We decided it would be prudent to stay in familiar territory while we get used to our new mansion on wheels - so west of the Mississippi it is. Things are finally beginning to come together to form the shape of the dream we imagined sitting around our kitchen table back in California.

On Friday, before we left Lincoln, we got up early to go to a sunken garden that we had not had time to visit during the week. We slipped out of bed around 7am and headed there in the cool morning air. It was a place of beauty and so serene. I snapped picture after picture of the flowers, the statues, the running water. The bees were collecting pollen, the Koi were opening their mouths eager for attention, the lotus flowers were opening their petals to the morning sunshine. And we both felt so free. It was like an anchor of remembering why we are doing this. And we both so needed it.

Our drive down to Texas took us through some amazing prairie lands where the freshness of green took our breath away. At one point we turned to follow a scenic route that was bit longer and found ourselves high on a bridge over a huge delta - an expanse so large we were transfixed.

That night we slept in a parking lot behind a gas station/Casino on the edge of the Oklahoma grasslands. Most people might not consider it scenic but my wandering heart felt right at home with all the people passing through. If I had not been a wandering hermit I might have made a good truck driver.

For three days we road the miles. Often without music or noise or talking. Just the silence of the road, the great expanse of the vistas unfolding around us, and our shared breath in the car. Total bliss for us all.

The next two weeks will be a lot of work. But we are starting to see the sun rising on the horizon.