Ahead of me, a sea of wind turbines gleam white against the darkening dusky skies. In the rearview mirror, the sky puts up one last fight of brilliant colors before the sun sinks below the horizon. After 12 hours of driving, I pull into Des Moines just in time for the Iowa State Fair. I've got a schedule to keep though, so I won't be partaking in any carnival rides, which means that I'm enjoying all of the hotel room rate hikes and none of the funnel cakes.
Over the last couple of days, I packed up everything I own, which breaks down to roughly 40% art supplies, 30% kitchen supplies, and 30% ball jars. There's a suitcase or two of clothes and a bike too, and that's about it. Early this morning I threw all of it into the back of an absurdly oversized rental truck and drove away from the little house in the suburbs that has absorbed my blood, sweat, and tears over the last two years. Today was the first of many long days over the next week as I make my way across the country, dropping in on various family members, enroute to Washington, DC, where after a 13 year academic hiatus, I will be returning to school.
