Counting Down

The last travel document is in hand (paw): Jacob's European Union Pet Passport arrived yesterday. He is ready to go. 


To bring a dog or leave them both behind was a spirited conversation when we first began dreaming of this trip. Joe rightly pointed out that bringing a dog would make traveling more complex, give us less flexibility about where we could go and what we could do. I whined that I couldn't live without a dog for six months. Darwin probably wouldn't enjoy the trip, but Jacob would love it. But the more we talked, the more we both realized that Jacob will bring more than complexity to our travels. He will bring a groundedness - a sense of living in a place rather than just passing through, observing. We will get to know our surroundings, and our neighbors, every time we walk him. He will provide a great conversation starter when we meet other dog people. And his joyful, up-for-anything disposition is bound to help ease the inevitable stresses of intense togetherness and culture shock.

And so we both agreed (with Jacob's enthusiastic consent) that he would come. 

And now the countdown begins in earnest for our Valentine's Day departure. To-do lists and packing lists churn out of the printer in new and more detailed iterations every day as we check items off and think of new things to add. Don't forget to tell Darwin's aunties that he likes to sleep with one of Kristin's t-shirts as a blanket in the winter. Make sure to pack the umbrellas. Bake more bread to use up the flour and yeast. Did we pack the extension cord?  Put out the word about the Medicaid Expansion Rally and clean the refrigerator.  Do we really need to take a travel iron?

Yet it still doesn't quite feel real. Life as we know it seems so normal - well, except for the bizarre rhetoric still spewing from the White House. It's hard to imagine that next week we will be settling into about 150 square feet of living space, traveling through Europe, hearing first German, then French, then Spanish wherever we go. That our time will be unstructured for days on end, and that we can decide on any given evening to travel to another country the next day. And that we will not see our dear Charlottesville for half a year, a bit of a shock after our intense local involvement over the past 23 years, especially the past eight. 

But we'll be back, as I tell the dogs every time we walk out the door. It'll just be a little longer absence than usual.  

Meanwhile, if you'd like some homemade bread in the next four days, let me know.  



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