coming home to pass it

   Well we are on that gray hard pavement once again, adding up the mileage on the jeep, seeing more countryside, dancing around vehicles and trying to ignore the garmin's annoying voice. We are headed home, headed back to where this journey all started, heading back to Joplin. In my last post I said that this blog would be eventful, be vivid, alive, because we are just leaving Tennessee and my lovelies, that is exactly what you will get because Tennessee did not fail us in anyway, if anything it exceeded our expectations. 

So to start off with where I departed from you last time. We dropped off that beautiful Tennessee interstate lined with trees and fog and brightened by the moonlight and we fell into downtown Nashville. The hotel our friend booked for us could not been more amazing. Filled with amazing lighting, amazing service, amazing beds, amazing decor, amazing is probably the only word I could use to describe it. We were blessed beyond our imagination when we stood in our 5 star hotel room looking out our window over Nashville's skyscrapers and night life. Because of this instance it made past instances stand out very strongly. Instances of people helping us out. People have hearts of gold within these burning walls of our crumbling corrupted world. The man that booked our room, didn't even know us, our friend called him and he pulled every string he had to help us out. This work for our well-being was a constant throughout our trip. 

       While staying in the hotel we did the tourist thing around Nashville. And folks, this time we did succeed at the touristic ways! And that is because there were no lines, and no standing and staring and no need of our patience, or even our money. The tourist thing in Nashville is essentially to party down! And that is exactly what we did. Visiting the museum of country music definitely pulled all of our heart strings and made us feel like we belonged and remembered that longing for incredible, original music. And at night we walked the streets. As we were headed to a dance floor one night we ran into a girl and her guitar along with her family, that caught Candice's attention. So we stopped and listened and chatted. By the end of the night we were standing in a circle praying with them, for them, encouraging them on their journey of the ministry God has placed in their hearts. After that we stopped in a bar for some good oldies where we all danced with men, not one being under the age of 60. Hitting more and more stops and bouncing around like we do, that was another morning we watched the sunrise. 

      But we didn't have the entire next day to sleep in. We traveled east to a winery to watch Medicine Hat play some musical notes. It was a wonderful afternoon sitting on the grassy open lawn with the sun bouncing off our umbrella as the guitars and rough voices were a blissful match to the vines flowing miles away from the house. After that we had more amazing music, at the Grand 'ol opry and at a random hotel lobby. Realizing that there can be a stage and thousands of people for wonderful music, or a stool chair and a crowd of ten. Musicians are alive and well and spreading their talent for our ears. 

     Thanks to dear friends, once again, we had a home to stay in Saturday and Sunday night. And had our Sunday filled with laughter and joy as we floated on a boat across the green Tennessee water being chased by tree-filled hills. It was a happy Sunday on the lake, filled with sun and nature and good company and refreshing water. 

     Like I said earlier, people are incredible, giving, loving. Friends, family, strangers have made our trip what it was. From Candice's aunt and uncle giving up their own bed for us to sleep in, to Kaitlyn taking away time from homework to be our tour guide, to Dave giving us a floor to sleep on, to his roommates spending the morning helping us figure out DC, to Kathleen offering her home to us, to Lee giving us a room in a perfect hotel, to Jeff and Doug lending us beds and entertainment. Time after time on this trip we have seen the beautiful hearts of people, the way people have gone out of their way to give us directions or to load our car. 

Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.  ~Mark Twain

Have you had a kindness shown?
Pass it on;
'Twas not given for thee alone,
Pass it on;
Let it travel down the years,
Let it wipe another's tears,
'Til in Heaven the deed appears -
Pass it on.
~Henry Burton

   So that is what we have in the fore fronts of our minds. To love on people, to be hospitable, to show kindness and generosity in a way that the world has not experienced. We cannot ignore or deny the love that we experienced between New York to Tennessee, we cannot hide from the concern that was covering us. Because if it had not been for people and their gold hearts, we would be broke and soar from sleeping on the ground. We would have been tired and cranky and biting at one another. But I cannot be that, I cannot be ungrateful or unthankful and all that love and generosity I experienced throughout my trip cannot be kept to myself. 

   Well readers, our trip is done. We have covered the miles between Joplin to New York and back again. We have found frustrations and annoyances but not without finding hope and comfort. Road trips are an experience, you learn about yourself about your travel companions, you learn about the roads you travel on and the new communities you enter into. The wisdom we should have read before venturing is this: When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money.  Then take half the clothes and twice the money.  ~Susan Heller. But we survived in our faults and grew in our finds. So the final quote to cap off this grand adventure:

I think that travel comes from some deep urge to see the world,

 like the urge that brings up a worm in an Irish bog 

to see the moon when it is full.  ~Lord Dunsany

    We had an urge and we grabbed it, we had an itch and we scratched it. Free falling into our lives as we are at the biggest cornerstone we jumped head first into a challenge that we will never realized how much we learned in it. But we being the worms of the dirt of the earth, for we truly are the scum of the earth and of sinners we are the worst; we rose above the mud and we saw a glimpse of the full moon's light. Not only the grand landscapes and incredible man-made structures, but we also saw man kind in the purest and rawest form. So, I challenge thee, since I have been challenged these past 15 days. Get your head out of the mud and gaze upon the beauty of the glowing moon. 

Nearing Nashville ...

    Tennessee sets the atmosphere pretty well. With a hovering fog that follows the road side closely as if guiding us along our Nashville bound route. That is right my lovelies, we are headed to Nashville. The interstate is long and black as it rolls slowly between our tree-lined, moon lit course. Now to catch you up to speed on how we got my jeep's tires rolling this western direction. 

     We safely arrived in D.C. late the other night to arrive at my dear friend Dave's apartment. As we crashed on his floor we were too exhausted to make plans for the up-coming day of American exploration. And I have decided to write a little poem for you so you may better comprehend the adventure we had inside the District of Columbia...

         Awoke with a droggy and drowsy way in our step

         Stopping at the DuPont circle, in search of some coffee and pep

         It failed us as we sluggishly and sloggishly drug ourselves down town

         You would think the White House would change our frown

         But not-knowing what we were searching for in miles

         And not knowing how to search DC style

        We got weaker and weaker with the tourist dance

        And said "screw that prance"

        So we scattered around the capitol and did as we pleased

        When a smile then breezed and brought in some ease

        So we traveled to the Arlington graves

        Staring and stalking at the beauty of the slaves of our brave

        After chatting with old Abe we continued on our way

        That was our DC day

        Confusing bus rides, pestering parking places, misplaced maps and continual collapse

        Plus three hidden notes from a love of mine, which made for the perfect treasure hunt

        So a little more blunt... we were

        A little more patriotic at the end of the day

       A little more wiped of the tourist way

       A little smile for even though is was waring and taring and tiring

       It was indeed admiring, aspiring, inspiring and most of all... perspiring 

   After that fun little dance with US politics and history we skipped south to the land of lovers. In Virginia we rested. We slept on the floor of Kathleen (a highschool bestie) and her husband's home. We crashed hard and spent today doing things that would rest us up for the last leg of our trip (which indeed calls for one to be rested up). So today in the tree-filled land of hills and lovers I ran and went to a farmer's market and got lost and had chai at a sweet little celtic coffee shop, while Lacey joined in on some and Candice slept and stayed sprawled on the cool carpet. 

   So, now back to the beginning of this boring blog (boring due to the fact that it is 2:00am and the last couple days have seemed longer than 24 hours). We are Tennessee bound. Let me just put it to you this way, inside the black letters of the upcoming blogs you will not find bore but hopefully come to adore. Because ladies and gents we are indeed headed on a new venture chapter. Because we are nearing Nashville and I never knew how anxious I would be to be back in the south. 

     We are headed to not just sleeping on a fellow's floor, but headed to a ritzy hotel to sleep on the plush beds, because of a stranger who has a heart of gold and is willing to take care of college students on a budget. Because we are not headed to dancing but to honky-tonk boot-scootin boogies for our booties. Because we are not just headed to another city we are headed to Nashville, Tennessee. 

      

       

       

ducks driving to DC

After 1,878 miles, 9 days, 216 hours, 19 cups of coffee and a billion bathroom breaks we have covered the northern corner of New York and Long Island and started an entire new section of this venture. As we are southbound the upcoming section is titled ‘DC in a day.’ We shall see if we fit every piece of history, every tourist opportunity into our single day in Washington D.C. Exploring D.C. is indeed a must, which is why we are squeezing it into our already jam packed schedule. But with the method we take to view the sites I am almost positive we will have no problem seeing every sight. Remember how I said we only view things from a far, because we lack patience? (Or you could look at it that we are just so content in our company with one another that the Empire State building does not contain the greatness of Gaines or that Ellis Island does not hold the wisdom of our El Salvadorian and we all know full well if I dared to stand next to the statue of Liberty they would probably take it down and build a copper me.) [If you do not know me and are reading this, please read that last line with every ounce of sarcasm you hold, thank you]

            Talking about our impatience and desire for instant gratification came into play once again today. This morning we took the winds and the wounds around every tree-grasping

curve that lingered along the Atlantic Ocean’s coastline with the early morning sun. As a special surprise I took Lacey and Candice to Montauk’s point, which held an enormous and glorious lighthouse. Well the lighthouse museum didn’t open until 10:30am and it was 9:30am, the lock was off the gate so I figured I would help them out by opening up that gate, while helping Lace and Candice by giving them a tour without payment and crowds. So we gandered and we gawked for a short moment at the over looking views and than we began our accent to the lighthouse’s front door. As we climbed up the steep road that over looked forests to our right and left and was followed by terraces to the ocean’s mouth we had smiles plastered across our faces. That was until we got stopped dead in our tracks when a woman’s voice as loud as an oncoming train started to scold us for being inside the lighthouse's gate. She told us we needed to turn around immediately and come back at opening time. Some people say there is a tiny little woman living at the top of that light house watching out for trespassing tourists, I for one believe the light house is haunted and she was offended that we even entered her grounds before the other humans, so she ran us off, which did indeed work. Worked so well we didn’t even come back at 10:30 with the other paying tourists.

            Instead of touring our haunted lighthouse lady we drove down the rode to the beach, where we surfed. Or more an attempt to surf, the surf was better the night before (which we did) but this sunny afternoon had the waves in a fret and all you could see from the shore line was white, it was wave after wave coming in furiously slapping the rocks it landed on. But we did get Lacey out on a surfboard for the first time, and we also got her stuck in a rip current after 10 minutes of her and I swimming no where the non-Baywatch 16 year old lifeguard came to our rescue as we paddled back to Candice standing at the shore with her camera that never leaves her hands.

            But the night before, please if you will read for a second more, let me tell you about the late surfing on Monday night that took us all day to get too. We planned on being on the beach on our boards by noon, well with shops and rain and no fore-knowledge of where we were headed we didn’t get to the sand dunes until 5:30pm. It was a dark overcast that put a dim doomed mood all over Montauk’s point beach. But that didn’t stop Candice and I from grabbing our 9” planks and rushing into the pounding waves that bashed into the sandy shoreline. I only got rocked a couple times and only caught a few waves. But I was home. I the girl from the farmer farther and the most land-locked state was home, and I’m positive my California Candice felt the same way. I sat up on my board, legs danggeling off the sides and slowly let the waves roll under me. The water was a dark green that turned black into the distance and when I looked to the west I saw surfers as if they were sitting ducks, just waiting for the next 

wave to come in. I saw the gloomy mourning waters mimicking the clouds darkness. But to the north of our wavy waters the cliffs were topped with dark ferns and grasses as they crevassed sharply into the beach line. The fogged hovered like a mother over her child on top of those Irish-imitating cliffs. And I sat there on my board, shocked by the warmth of the hard water and I felt at peace, whether I would catch a wave or not, whether there was oceanic danger lurking below me or not, I was at peace sitting like a wading duck upon my board.

            So we left the surfing behind this afternoon, we left New York in the dust. Well not necessarily the dust, considering we had to stop in the middle of 8-lane traffic because the New Jersey turnpike held an $11 toll and we only had one dollar. The end of this story is a lovely conversation with a police officer; the reasoning of this story is because I spent $10 on a pair of high-heels and a leather watch at a beach side thrift store. So leaving all that behind, except our ticket and future tollbooths, we are finally on our way back south.

            We head downward to DC, to Virginia, to the south with the intentions of hiking and camping in the sunshine and musing music and good eating in the moonlight. In other words we are now traveling with a new motive in mind: Play dirty in the day and party fancy in the night. 

Learning on Long Island

          Share our similarities, celebrate our differences.                                                                                               - M. Scott Peck

     Where do I begin? The days seem as if they are starting to blur together, one by one passing us by without a concern for our well-being. You would think that the sun rose and set on it's own time, does the sun not realize that we three (for the current moment four) ladies have some fun to be having, some dancing to be doing, some conversing to be had? 

     We landed ourselves in Long Island a few days ago and this stop has never been a regret in our minds. The sunshine is just as bright here as down in the south and the beaches just as welcoming. We laid out our towels and soaked up as much vitamin D and salt water as we possibly could on Saturday. It was a day full of rest and relaxation, a day we all needed after being run over by the speed of the New York city lifestyle. So what did we do after a blissful day on the local beaches of West Hampton? We went to an Irish pub for corned beef and cabbage and a couple of the best burgers on this side of Riverhead. After 6 cups of coffee, an amazing conversation, some eavesdropping on our table neighbors and some good-hearted flirting with our waitor  in order to get free desert (which we did, I may add). We met back up with our tour guide hippie so she could lead us to a beach that was loaded with people, music and dancing. I have to admit, I never knew Candice could dance like that and I had no idea Lacey attracted as many men as she did.

    Candice fluttered her feet with a Swede and decided to give every attractive man there a hit to their self-esteem by going up to their dorky, not-so-attractive, shy friends and asking them to dance. While Lacey had intriguing conversations with Egyptian travelers and Irish men. Whoever knew a Long Island sandbar would be so international after the moon rose into the star-filled sky? Our heads finally hit our pillows at 6am. But do not fret, we were still fully capable to get up in time for some afternoon shopping. And we finished off this lovely evening by eating at Buoy One and if I may brag I stuffed my face with lobster and mussels and shrimp galore. 

    Words to describe us: Lacey - a strong rock, Candice - spunky & curious, myself - driven & passionate ... we have indeed learned about one another, learned minor & major characteristics and habits, gained perspective from each other, developed respect & protection for each other. I guess that's what road trips do, I suppose that's what they bring out. If you are in the right mind set that is. I have a feeling no matter what we will get ourselves into: a broken down car, a broke credit card account, a sleepless night, a robbery, a temptation, a random circus act, a hidden lamp that beholds a magical genie; I feel that we will succeed. Because we are looking to grow stronger and wiser with Jesus on our mind & in our heart. As Peck said: We are sharing our similarities and celebrating our differences. Whether that may be in our political views, interpretation of the Word, dancing moves, or eating habits. People are different from me, Thank God.

    Tomorrow we surf. 

eager for experiencing..

     "Experience: that most brutal of teachers.

 But you learn, my God do you learn.”  - C.S. Lewis

     That is what road trips are all about, right? All about the experience. Experience as much as you possibly can, search as much as your eyes can possibly behold, hear as much as your ears can take in, dance as far as your legs will take you. Experience is indeed a brutal teacher, the brutalest of them all. Because instead of preparing and then taking the test, you have to take the test and see what you know. Experience has not been a brutal teacher to us on this northern journey...yet. Everything has gone smoothly, everything has gone exactly according to plan. So have we learned? Have we learned in volumes or even learned to a depth so that we will retain everything we are taking in, in its purest form? 

    As we ventured around New York we did the tourist thing. Okay, truthfully we did a very lazy version of the tourist process. We went everywhere we wanted: Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, Brooklyn Bridge, Broadway, Empire state building ... okay so we went to all of theses places, to only view them from a far, view them from across the water, from across the city, from ground level. Because they all had lines, very very long lines, and something we have found out that the three of us girls have in common is this: we want our gratification instantly. It's not that we complained or were upset or pitiful since we did not experience these blocks in the foundation of our nation, we just saw the wait and said, "eh, good enough let's move on." So have we experienced NY to the fullest? i don't know. 

 

But I have been leaving out a very important part of this trip. Where we lay our heads at night to sleep. Candice had relatives in Brooklyn, relatives she had never even met before. And they welcomed us into their home and treated us like royalty and acted as if all three of us were there nieces. It was incredible, welcoming, encouraging, energizing. But we departed the El Salvadorian home this afternoon after our last big night in NY (which consisted of a rooftop garden, men from Ireland, New Zealand and Greece, and 3am pizza and 5am donuts, can you say a wonderful experience success?) and headed on our way to Long Island. 

Which is where we lay our weary bodies to dream tonight. We are staying at the Smith's, seeing a quaint Long Island town, gazing at a beautiful river in our backyard, planning a trip to surf the beach, preparing for Jazz music festivals and experiencing new worlds. Every corner of NY was different from the other, just as the east is different from the west on this diverse Island. So we begin a new chapter to this short story.

       While traveling with Candice if you want her to be talkative and attentive give her 3 drops of coffee, you want her to sleep put her in a moving vehicle. You want Lacey to be in a good mood keep walking, keep going; you want Lacey to be grumpy sit down & don't move, or just do yoga. I am currently experiencing America's north east with an El Salvadorian, a cow girl and a hippie. I feel guarded by a perfect variety/combination of women, especially since all three are nurses (or heading in that career  direction). And with the the undeniable skill I contain for accidents, experiencing America with nurses just seemed wise. This way I am prepared in case I choke on a papusa, or get bucked off a horse, or get beaten for throwing out radical views. That is comforting, because you never know what I may get myself into. Although, I have kept in the clear for the trip so far I have my fingers crossed that my life will be "normal" for these couple weeks. 

      But, then again why would I want to be normal? Why would I want to be safe and comfortable? i don't. Give me experience, give me lessons, give me life. 

perpetual ponderings

New York's hand grazes every individual that dares to place their foot's soul upon it's cement path ways. The city sings a Spanish lullaby around every corner, but then again down every block there is a Portuguese play and up the road you'll hear an Italian tune and down the way you'll ease drop on the sounds of the Chinese. Whatever language you speak, so does this city. The question I have been pondering is: Does this city ever want to see it's people sad? I feel life, I feel as if the city's walls truly care about it's civilians, although there is a lonesome burden, there is a weary heart that sifts and stays at a low fog among the city dwellers. I have fallen in love with this city, although I am miles, years away from knowing the pulse that makes this city beat. 

    A lot happened today, just like any other twenty-four hour period. We rode the train into the city. I travelled with a friend while Candice and Lacey gazed the thrift-store. I got lost in Time Square, we all 3 got lost in the pouring rain, I met a man from Israel due to my Hebrew tattoo (once again) we ate the best pizza in New York and sat in Leonardo DiCaprio's booth, before suffocating on gelato, and then wandered the streets of Greenwhich village aimlessly admiring. To only end up splashing in the fountain at Washington Square Park.

     But in the midst of all these little journeys the one that struck the most, the most sobering of them all would have to be exploring ground zero. Seeing first hand the devastation that was caused on September 11, 2001. Viewing the visitor centers and the memorials. I can't put into words, I can't describe on this short blog how these stories and people captured my heart. I was so young when it happened, so naive. I had no idea of the strength and the power that the towers represented. These homes of international companies had a soul, bringing the world together to create peace through the stability of trade. Two quotes throughout the entire visitor center stuck out to me: 

"On that terrible day a nation became a neighborhood, all Americans became New Yorkers." - Gov. George Pataki

"...It is my belief that my small paper crane will enable you to understand other people's feelings as if they are your own." - Sadako Sasaki

    These two quotes pinched my heart because even though I had no immediate hurt from the devastation, I was unattached when it happened in 2001, I can't fathom the emotions that live in this tragedy; even though I am in lacking, I am full. I was full of pain and hurt for all those lives lost, for all those families left behind to deal with the aftermath. I, a true Nebraskan, became a New Yorker; I, an on-looker from a distance, became a participant. Just by reading the stories, by seeing the pictures I became united with the rest of our nation, I understood other's feelings. The massive tragedy brought our country, and the world together in a way that cannot be placed into words, brought people together in love that has an un-breakable bond. 

   So in this world, where everything seems to be made to be broken, it also seems as if no matter how cracked or chipped it gets it is still priceless.... Dear New York, I do not know you and I still want to see you. Dear World, I do not see your corners and I still want all of you. Dear People, I do not capture your essence in its entirety and I will still try too, everyday with every fiber of my being. 

walking a new pace

   Yes, it is true I am writing another blog within the same 24 hours this due to the pure fact that the north east is packed. Packed with people, buildings, noises, food and more than the average ears and eyes can take in, in all it's glory. But the city is not for faint, not for the timid and not for minimalists. Driving through cities is a world all in its own compared to driving in the open mid-west, and it is an adventure I do love. As if you are in a nintendo game veering from all on-coming objects destined to ram into you. Just like the driving the walking is different. You have to walk a different pace to keep up with New Yorkers, you have to live at a different pace just like traveling anywhere else outside of your current comfort box. Our trip in the city is just dating: One of us is shocked and analyzing, while another star-gazed checking it out, and another ready to make-out with it.

    This morning after we left that run down, Indian ran hotel we decided to garmin it to a coffee shop, 'seaside' sounded perfect. Although, not so picture perfect when we were a lone little vehicle in the midst of hundreds of semi-trucks that were all on a mission to get to the dock in order to fulfill our nations import/export production. As we drove down the gloomy air-smogged dock we knew that my Nebraska plated jeep, luggage carrier attached like a tumor, was sticking out amongst the eastern seafaring workers. So quickly we high-tailed it out of there, well quickly we made a U-turn to only get stuck in the chaos of the semis traffic. 

   That was truly our first kiss with "we're not in Kansas anymore" thought process. But when you venture off following your garmin's demands that is what is bound to happen. But since our first little run in with the port side clan our garmin has been faithful. After successfully dropping Seth off to ride that giant silver bird, we put in a new destination. Broadway Street, New York, New York.

   We had our dinners, but that wasn't really what captured the essence of our restaurant, it was the dessert. Filled with chocolate and more chocolate, we ate marshmallow chocolate fondu, sticks of chocolate, balls of chocolate, a banana fried ice cream mountain. I do not know how to accurately describe this delicate dish we dominated in minutes to your chocolateless mouth without making you full of jealousy and temptation, so I will not. Just know, you missed out. 

Well friends, tomorrow is a packed filled day. We have a schedule but also a high chance of spontaneity and falling off the beaten path so I won't tell you our intentional plans because you never know what will happen. Because... Where there is a will, there is a way. And we have one handsome and giant 'Will' walking beside our wandering ways. 

Prepare yourself East Coast, you have three western females walking on your soil

     We strapped the luggage carrier on top, with no former knowledge of how to and with more luggage than we could hold. But, Where there is a will there is a way, which has indeed become our symbol title for our little east coast journey. Which we first chose when we realized the only way the four of us and our luggage and gear would fit in my jeep would be by not only filling the luggage carrier to the limit and strapping in on the roof but also strapping Lacey's suitcase on the top bare naked, having no protection from the winds, rain and bugs. (What a good, willing, selfless, travel companion she is). The road trip to the north was straight and through only stopping for gas and bathroom breaks. We realized that although we enjoy the Pennsylvanian drivers we rather detest the toll both forms and road patterns. Only finding our dislike for them when Candice forgot to grab the ticket, having to later pay for it and when I went the wrong direction to only have to continue back west for 20 miles until I could finally turn around to head east again. You need to be a mistake-less driver in PA.

        Driving into the sunrise in Jersey was beautiful and restless. We parked in a random little kid's play area to use the baseball field's bathroom to get cleaned up and then went next door to the random seaside library to find tickets and print them off. Tickets to the land of gold that is, yes friends, we spent our first day in Jersey our first day with no sleep in Six Flags. Which none of us regret. It was continually packed with screams and laughs, filled with 'aaaahhhs' and 'aawwees' as we had our crazy hair raising times mixed in with our content, pure joy. I mean how much happier can you get when you walk around with a stretched grin plastered on your face and your hair a giant rat's nest? OH, you can get happier. A giraffe will make any individual 95.7% more happy. We took a break from the roller coasters to do a Jersey safari, which turned out to be pure magnificence. I do not lie or even exag

gerate when I say I rolled down my window, to only realize why they make the 'windows must be rolled up at all times' rule, for a full size giraffe to reach down and stick his head right inside my window. It was indeed incredible, especially when he gave my a hand a sloppy wet kiss with his long, purple tongue!

        We rested for the night at a random, not so classy hotel to wake up to pouring rain. I now sit with my legs on Seth's lap as he maps out his Europe adventure, as Candice and Lacey finish reading books and computer screens. The purple bar and the brick walls make this quaint, Indian cafe perfect to spend the afternoon in. With it's coffee and wraps and barrista  being a marvelous surprisi

ng delight to truly begin this adventure. Well, we are sitting in this brick pathed little Jersey village to only wait for Seth's plane to take off of U.S. soil so that he may cross over the pond to venture onto London. 

    I must say though, this east coast trek that Lacey, Candice and I have decided to partake in, is not going to be structured for the light-hearted. We plan on seeing everything, from the statue of liberty to quaint local coffee shops to cuban dancing rooms to Irish pubs to rock faces that cry out 'Climb me' (and Lacey is hoping for a run-in with the mafia, which with my luck will happen on Thursday)  So readers, stay tuned for this venture will indeed be packed full to the limit, because the most random, craziest things tend to happen to me and I am traveling with two of my best friends who tend to never say No and have a bone for adventure :)

wool love

"For centuries in Ireland, women hand knit sweaters for their seafaring husbands. The bulky, cable-stitched wool was constructed to ward off harsh elements. Each woman used a recognizable, family-specific pattern of stitches, both to reflect love and pride, but also to be used as a means of identification if the husband were lost at sea and his body washed ashore." 

    I have no idea why this concept captured my heart as greatly as it did. Of course the image is an easy one to fall into - an Irish woman sitting in a cobblestone house upon a grassy hill as she looks out the window across the sea she sews by hand every stitch of the sweater that the love of her life will wear, the love of her life that has been taken by another love. As she sews she sews for a man who loves her unconditionally, who protects and provides for her, who made a commitment through vows to her. And yet with a heart filled with love she sews to a man who has chosen a path of betrayal, a man who left her to fend for herself. Because although the fisherman loves his wife, his heart belongs to the sea. 

    But it is the concept that captured me. The idea of a woman marking her love with a design, a symbol so that everyone would know who he belonged to. The concept that she was going to go through stitch by stitch to make sure he was protected from the forces of nature. To think that a fabric could resist the ware of the water is ridiculous, but because there was so much time, energy, love, passion placed into those stitches that sweater will indeed protect from the winds.

     We all need this sweater. Whether it is provided by a lover, or our mother, or another; we all long to have this symbol of "I belong to someone and they have protected and labeled me." This sweater is intrinsic in our lives, in each one of our lives. But ultimately, let's look at reality. Every person that makes you that sweater, it will wear and it will tare and eventually you will break a hole in the chest and be able to feel that bitter winter chill on your very bones. Unless, that shield of protection, that cover of ownership, that length of love was stitched together by God. Only then will that sweater never see a hint of a hole. Only then, when we claim ownership under His protection, will we truly be able to show off our love like a sweater.