Category: OBC blog

Sky Drama

Maybe because it rained all day yesterday—Day One of our journey—the skies of Day Two gave great cloud.

Saint Bonaventure University, Olean NY

After receiving our cloud-kissed blessing from the school of good voyages in Olean (Saint Bonaventure U.), the OBC caravan headed West on I-86 through Seneca Nation and on towards Lake Eerie, crossing Chautauqua Lake and the tip of Pennsylvania before entering Ohio.

New York State of mind.

Once in Ohio, we proceeded to spend the rest of Day Two moving south through that great state. We passed by Cleveland and Columbus on n I-270, changed over to I-70 and headed towards Dayton, and finally, at the very end, crossed into Indiana—the state with my name in it.

Lake Eerie out there, somewhere.

Clear weather held out all day, making up for the low grade stress of yesterday’s rain drenched low visibility and hydroplane potential. Beautiful!

Highlight of today’s drive was a pit stop at Bell’s, near Mt. Gilead.

A cute Ohio rest stop called Bell’s 💛
Yellow flowers at Bell’s.
Tiny bell-like saucer blooms at Bell’s—these look big in the photo, but are only the size of a nickel or so!
More beautiful clouds at Bell’s to remind us: Keep Looking Up! This 7-day journey is a Marathon, not a Sprint (or a Mobil or a Shell, for that matter). And remember, as Julia was always telling me … B R E A T H E ✨
(Did I mention the drama?)
Speaking of drama, don’t forget these guys!

Landed safely around 4:00 in Richmond Indiana, home of the amazing Gulzar’s Indian Cuisine. They serve the most delicious, rich and creamy Saag Paneer you can imagine. Not to mention their decadent Samosa Chaat. Even Gulzar’s rice is amazing—each fragrant grain a unique and separate entity.

Feeling Grateful for an incredible meal at the end of a long but relatively easy Day Two on the road, and for the leftovers…to be savored in Rolla Missouri.

Stay tuned!

🌿🦉🌵💜💛

Threshold Day

One Bold Crone with Dog & Mountain Laurel

We leave tomorrow. One last highway Odyssey across the USA.

One last full day in the house and the village I’ve called Home for thirty years.

Thresholds like these don’t come around too often in life. When they do, they are worthy of marking.

Timi in Bare Living Room

I’ve been sleeping on a borrowed air mattress (thank you, Sarah Patton!) for the past two weeks since all my furniture vanished, thanks to an auspicious encounter with Aaron, a strong and friendly junk removal entrepreneur who collects mid-century modern furniture on the side. (Tagline: “I make things disappear”.)

Aaron will be back today to help me load the car in exchange for a lovely Danish teak table, literally the last stick of furniture left in the house.

MCM on the Porch

Needless to say, and after a solid two weeks of sorting and culling and meaningful, emotional goodbyes, the OBC is having feelings.🦋🥺

In this, I am not alone. 

Clyde in His Top Favorite Birdwatching Window

Timi and Clyde have been wonderful companions during the past couple of months since our bumpy arrival from the last trip, tolerantly overseeing all the profound changes in the house, and providing much needed nervous system co-regulation services.

They must sense we are leaving again very soon. They see the suitcases, and the boxes packed, but of course what happens next is out of their control, and it’s all very touching in a tender and poignant way.

They go with me no matter what.

Not everything can.

Still Life by Ruth Marjorie Kreger (née Gold), my paternal grandmother.

No matter what is left behind…tomorrow we three are leaving together.

One dog. One cat. One bold crone.

A new life awaits.

As gracefully as possible, may our grasp on the old be released….

🌿🦉🌵

P.S. If you enjoyed this post, please consider letting me know by leaving a like or comment. (If you read it inside your email, you may need to click through to the actual web page in order to do this.)

It means a lot to me to know you are there, especially when I am on the road, and the days are long and tiring—but no pressure! Only if it feels right & works for you.

Truly,

💛 OBC

Another Triumph!

Entering Montague

So here we are—the gang is back in town. Seven days and six nights for the eighth time.

Shout out to my guides and angels for letting me know this was the right week to travel. Perfect weather every single day! I feel blessed and grateful. (And tired.)

Sunrise in New York’s Southern Tier

Thanks to everyone who followed along, *liked* and commented on these posts. I’m grateful to you, too!

🙏🏼💜OBC 🌵🦉🍃

Clyde & his last-night-on-the-road face.
Almost-home happy!
Made it!

Mission Accomplished — Day 7/7

Welcome Home 💞

We made it! Bittersweet Symphony playing on Spotify and tears of joy and relief as my beautiful, magnificent Coachella Valley mountains come into view.

That always happens.

Home Sweet Home
It’s good to be out of the car!
Travel companions par excellence.

So there it is. Another epic fait accompli.

Thanks to all for following along, and if you ever have any questions about traveling with pets cross-country by car, hit me up!

I aim to serve. ❤️

Until next time… with many blessings of health and abundance…

🙏🏼🌿🦉🌵 OBC

Supermoons —Day 6/7

Innana | Diana

Before hitting the road this morning on day six of seven, I got to see both the gorgeous full moon setting (from the parking lot) AND my baby granddaughter, Belle (on Facetime). Lucky me!

Belle 💞

in terms of scenery, this penultimate day of my Westbound journey is perhaps the most dramatic. New Mexico and Arizona showcase tall painted cliffs and wide open vistas, expanding the heart. But heed the signs:

Zero visibility is possible.

Gusty winds may exist.

(Not to mention very long trains.)

Passing trains.

Some trains out here can pull hundreds of container cars. I saw one extended lineup requiring four engines up front. It takes a lot of power to move a heavy load.

Think about it. 

Roadside attraction near the Arizona-New Mexico border on I-40.

About halfway through today’s drive, I stopped at a trading post to look at Navajo rugs. That particular place, which I popped into last year, too, has a small locked room lined on three sides with racks of rugs, all woven in peaceful colors of black, white, gray, brown, and deep red. So beautiful, so soft, and, as I learned, so very expensive. So I did not purchase one… but it was a pleasure to look and feel.

The Native woman who let me into the locked room wasn’t too chatty (I may have interrupted her lunch) but she did tell me the wool comes from sheep raised on the res. When I asked if I could take a photo of the display, she said “no photographs allowed on the reservation”— none at all. I was surprised to hear that, and will investigate further. (If she had been inviting, I would’ve loved to ask her more, but we need to meet people where they are.)

Anyway, sorry I can’t show you pictures of the beautiful rugs. But here’s another shot of that spectacular full moon, from this morning in Edgewood.

By the time she rose again, I was in Flagstaff, walking around (and around!) the block with my dear old friend, Celia, who lives here. Such a treat to see her twice a year on this journey! She’s like my semicolon—a lingering pause, enjoyed near the closing bracket of each trip’s beginning or end, depending on the season.

In this case, it is Autumn and we are almost complete! Just one more day of traveling, illuminated by fullness…

OBC 🌕🦉🌵