Ticking off some items...

Mt Constitution climb on Orcas Island for example

Pretty trip yard sale

Taking away the bed..and the cookie stand helpers!

Pre-trial purge sale.

So refreshing.

Final Mannex Movies night.

Garage pile b4 the sale

Bike commute.

Cassandra in Deutschland. Mom and dad here assisting.

Expat #2. This time we have little helpers!

(And slightly older ones too)

summer of '90 "re-entry"

I remember:

• Being used to fresh bread, real meat, obtained at outdoor markets and groceries. In America it was saran-wrapped sandwiches or plastic encased cheese/cracker lunchables.
• There was Amtrak, so there's that, but wow was it inconsequential for travel anywhere that I was familiar with.
• The European map and the huge German flag hanging in my dorm room that fall, prolonging things.
• Hearing about the Christmas Markets and fervently wishing to see one. Years later when it was obvious that would never happen, I had desires to at least buy brewed Gluhwein or make spicy wine drinks.
• Stopping in a hiker's lodge on an Alpine hiking trail near Zell am See in Austria's Alps. There was a hiker's club shield hanging over the thick wooden benches, right next to windows looking out onto predictable crazy scenery. Beers served in stout mugs. Antique hiking staffs on the wall. Thinking about the notion of belonging to such a hiker's club in this place, another impossibility.

The general shrugging off of dreams that were lit that summer rolled on down through the years. You get used to thinking that you won't have much of these experiences unless it is a quick trip or if you actually live there, and mostly both are difficult or pricey. So you won't feel a lot of that stuff again. Sigh oh well. Eventually the maps fade out and the writing disappears off the mugs you bring back.

And then one there is an email, and the dream comes rushing back in, over-flowing the reservoir and knocking your consciousness on its butt with possibility. Unbelievable, we're going back.

Identifying your moments

These weeks feel like the water has drained out of the bay before the Tsunami. It is quiet now, but you know it is imminent. When it hits it will turn everything upside down and send our consciousness sprawling. It is a delicious time.

The obviousness of it is only quieted by the internal knowledge of how long this long shot experience is. It is unbelievable that this is happening. We'd mostly given it up except for a nascent and non-serious discussion of DIYing it somewhere.

In this "calm" we spend our hours on procedural crap: trying to avoid going to SFO for a day trip to get our work permit turned into a work visa and just do it when we get to Berlin. Or we sort and pack. Or we wonder abstractly about what exactly I will be doing in the job over there since I still haven't seen a work description. It is hard to sleep even though we know we need it but the nervous stress/excitement and lists force their way through our unconsciousness and start loud construction projects on our brain in the middle of the night.

The sight of empty shelves in rooms and stacked packing boxes is adrenalizing.



From "It's Always Now": a beautiful video on dialing yourself in to the present moment.

"It requires a change in the attentiveness you pay to your experience in the present moment."

Annex cubby and loft

Progress. Crazy progress.

The new attic annex..new home for the car top carrier for the next few jahre.

Cass doing Recon in Berlin's Schoneberg