Crossing the country

When we decided that we had to absolutely must there was no question move to Portland, Ore., I immediately started planning how I was going to stay in touch with all the people I was leaving and love—the decision was never about getting away, it was about going to. So I was torn forever-ever about the leaving. 

Like a lot of the ideas I become most passionate about, this one crystallized almost in an instant. Letters East. A letter a week. I had originally thought I would send out a "letter" by way of this blog, but after an intensely creative conversation with my sister-in-law, Liz, she prompted, "what if you write real letters, and your online space can be dedicated to that process?" And in another instant I knew that was the right idea.

Mt. Hood (a view of it, anyway) is among Portland's sirens. [ OSU Special Collections & Archives ]

So Friday, February 27 we drive away from the house that's been our home for more than three years, and for a week we'll be in a car on the way to the West Coast. And I have this image of myself tied to the back of the car, floating loosely behind as I look out over the East that's getting further away, and me furiously scribbling notes and tossing them into the wind. And then we'll land in Portland and there I'll be immersed in a new life, incredibly inspired by what's around me and the fact that we even did this thing, and I'll steal moments here and there to scribble furiously again and toss notes into the wind.

That's what this little space is. 

I already have ramblings for my first letter (maybe even my second) stumbling around my brain. 

I have made sure to absolutely definitely be certain one hundred percent to not forget to put the nice pens in my coat pocket.