After 9,936 Miles, The Dust Begins to Settle......

As I write this missive (our 300th blog post), the voices of happy neighbors singing folk songs and playing instruments on a nearby patio waft into our new sweet abode here at The Commons on the Alameda.

After 9,936 miles on the road, 30 intentional communities and 21 states (including Washington, DC), we are finally grounded at an intentional community that has drawn us back into its neighborly arms.

Our arrival to the Commons was made somewhat complicated by a water leak that precluded our moving in on the first of June, but today we were finally able to completely move in, make our bed, unpack our belongings, and reassure Tina that this house indeed has no wheels! (Our place is on the first floor in the photo below and does not include the rooftop terrace!)

Yesterday evening, a community dinner on the outdoor patio of the common house brought us quickly into the fold, and we are reveling in the company of the many children and dogs who populate the sidewalks of our quaint and safe pedestrian village on the outskirts of the city. And the little boy across the sidewalk even brought us fresh flowers and muffins this morning......

The realization that we are no longer on the road is still sinking in, and we may have to resist the common sensation of needing to move on when two or three days have elapsed and the gypsy winds begin to blow. In fact, we're not going anywhere any time soon, and it may take some time for this to be felt at our cores.

Our charming little casita is sweet and cozy---yet it's 600 square feet are veritably palatial to us---and we are living like college students with a futon on the floor and a kitchen table without chairs. Our kind neighbors and lovely landlords have offered various accoutrements to make us more comfortable, and bright yellow curtains can be drawn to separate the bedroom/living room from the kitchen area. A post-and-beam ceiling stands ten feet above our heads, and small skylights in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom/living room bring in extra light throughout the day.

The rig sits lonely on the dead end street alongside the community near the river, and we're still not certain what we will do with it for the next few months. Safe storage and a good cleaning are in order, and those details will no doubt be ironed out over time.

Meanwhile, I apply for local nursing jobs, Mary does research for our home-based businesses, and we look forward to connecting with local friends, both new and old.

We do not see the adventure as being over. This is simply a part of the adventure, an opportunity to explore community more deeply, and give our weary bones (and dog) a rest from the rigors of the road and cramped rig living. There is much to be grateful for, much to reflect upon, and a great deal to explore here in Sante Fe and northern New Mexico.

This blog will indeed be kept alive as we dive into this new chapter of our lives. We hope to keep our "travelers' minds" intact and curious even as we cease to travel to the extent to which we're accustomed. We are rubbing our eyes to make sure that this new manifestation of our excellent adventure is real, and we may wake up tomorrow morning wondering exactly where we are. As Mary slips into sleep beside me, she says "Thankfully, we've arrived---you can quote me on that!"

Stay tuned for some timely reflections on the last seven months, some flashbacks and videos from days past, and observations on life in "The City Different" and at long last living in intentional community once again. Thanks for being here, thanks for your support and readership, and please come back to see us soon.

Blessings and love from the heart of community.