The Rough & Tumble
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It’s 9:32 at night and we’re just over the South Dakota border and into Minnesota. We have the next 3 days off and it’s hot and humid and so we booked a campsite so we could turn on the AC and use the internet and be still for a few days. The camper is cool even though Mallory just fried up some delicious black eyed pea cakes and corn on the cob. Tonight she had a cooking breakthrough; when frying on a gas stove, use olive oil instead of vegetable oil. She’ll have to explain why in a subsequent blog, but we’re both excited about the realization and what it means for #camperlife. Learning new things everyday.
It’s now 9:39 and the light is just now starting to fade. A few minutes ago the kids on the playground were called in by their mom and we took Butter for a walk and checked on the laundry we have in the dryer. Our first load in the washer we had to do a second time because the spin cycle wasn’t working and then someone cut in front of us and it seems like we might be up for a while before our sheets can be put on the bed. On our walk I was overcome by the feeling that I often get at sunset, especially in the summer, with it’s big orange sky and the blue shapes in the clouds I’ve never seen before, the feeling that so many days slip away without remembrance. It’s the feeling of missing something before it happens, or as it’s happening. Being nostalgic for the time that you’re living. And it is always happening to me, at least now that we’ve moved into the camper and everyday is still part of the never ending trip, still part of the tour that began in April but may never really end. Packing it up and into a camper to play music is the most exciting thing I’ve ever done with the best friend I’ve ever had and I find myself sad and lonely a lot of the time. Dissatisfied at the end of the day. But the way we spend our days, myself and Mallory and Butter, is how I want to live my life. We camp on scenic overlooks in the Black Hills of South Dakota and we eat great food and make music for kind people and that feeds the soul in enormous ways. But there is a tinge of sadness and nostalgia at the end of the day. It’s the moon calling us in from the playground.
I think this feeling is why when you go to a national park you see an incredible number of people on their phones, taking pictures, posting it to social media, checking in on other places to see what their missing out on. The part of me that wants to live in the moment sees this and realizes that Yellowstone looks a lot worse through an iPhone screen and that our experience is changed as soon as we document it . But another part of me realizes that we need something to show for our days.
10:24. The sun has finally set. Our sheets are now in the wash thanks to a fearless move on Mallory’s part. We’re going to be blogging more often this next month so to keep in touch. We’re at a really exciting point in our life and we want to share it with you and make markers to commemorate where we’ve been. And we hope you’re doing the same. We hope that when you saw the sunset this evening you were sad and introspective because you’ll miss what happened to you today.