The title of this post is and is not misleading (maybe I should have gone into politics). It is not misleading because I did in fact leave the farm—amicably—today, and it is misleading because I did not leave on account of any Maggie's farm type issues. Quite the opposite. Essentially, the situation was a bad fit for the cats, and the cats were a bad fit for the situation, and this was creating, well, a situation. Throw some zany interpersonal/timing elements into the mix and the fact that if ever Allison was equipped to live it up hostel style, it is certainly not now at age thirty-one in the desert in July where the inside of the abode is always at least ten degrees hotter than the outside. In summation: I reconfigured the original timeline and parted on good terms with all. I'm so glad and grateful for the experience: for the people I met, the places I saw, and the things I did on the farm. I would definitely WWOOF again and am excited to investigate other prospects better suited to crabby thirty-somethings with traveling menageries, although one thing I learned—and learning about how to better handle this so it works out better for me and the mooshies next time around is one of the aspects of this situation for which I am most grateful—is that it would probably be better to have a solid home base at which they can remain behind in the loving care of a me-surrogate next time.
All in all, I'm proud of myself for challenging myself to go outside of my comfort zone and do something (several somethings, actually) that doesn't come easily or naturally to me, and that involved me falling on my face on several occasions—in one case literally (The Plywood Incident!), and I have the bruises to prove it. I'm glad that I came out here and had the chance to soak in this rich, strange region and see what all that Land of Enchantment business was about. And I'm grateful that it's one less what-if on what can be a rather daunting list of same. I am thankful to be young(ish), strong, and able-bodied, to have had the chance to try my hand at honest, hard, physical, and utterly necessary work, to have witnessed one of the many ways available to avoid the wage slave conveyor belt trajectory, to have mingled with so many fine folks who have managed to do this (yes, of course, our collective heaps of privilege certainly help here).
So, onward, upward, wards of the state, and wardens! Tonight I'm holed up with my freshly traumatized smoochies in (the ever-pet-friendly) Motel Six in Espanola (I have given up on trying to preserve the correct Spanish punctuation on account of it is a colossal pain to accomplish this in Blogger with an English keyboard), largely because, I kid you not, I needed to eat El Parasol for dinner. I swear, they put chemicals in the food there that make you crave it fortnightly. Or every day. Mmmm.....
Tomorrow I plan to visit El Santuario de Chimayo and perhaps venture into Santa Fe as well, or maybe I will aim for Santa Fe on Wednesday. Since it's only a forty-minute drive from here, why not? Most likely I will head on to Austin on Wednesday or Thursday.
Keep coming back, comrades, and keep yourselves apprised of what wacky new strain of transience I get up to next!
(Unfortunately, looks like pictures will have to wait again on account of the internet connection here is crap).
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