Leaving was even harder than I expected. If there wasn't a train and we weren't already on it, I couldn't have done it. But once the truck comes, the stuff's packed, the car's packed, the dog and cat are in the car, what else can you do but let the wheels roll.
No rooms in Cheyenne. Mind you check when Sturgis is if you're traveliing East through Marlboro Country.
But, we're here.
Slightly traumatized. VERY nice neighbors. Perhaps too nice. They visit often. Kendall & Lt. (perhaps Capt by now) came and de-loaded the truck. Erik's mom and dad have been here watching Zo and mowing down all the greenery that grows even out of the gutter. We went to the lake yesterday. Big lake.
I might survive. Might not.
I feel very "observed" for some reason. Neighbors and bosses and orientation all serve to make me feel very suburband and attended to.
Sorry to be so long in between posts but I had nothing but sad to say. Now, at least, things are new and strange. And therefore, writable, I suppose.