Three Weeks and Three Thousand Miles

The decision to re-relocate, while brewing for some time, came quickly, and we had everything packed and shipped in nearly a week. If you haven't been privy to this information before, here it is: We've moved back to Massachusetts. It's a long and disheartening story, and I'm sorry I know it first hand. Basically, poor timing and supervision curtailed our whirlwind excursion to the Pacific Northwest, and it's best to leave it at that. I've swallowed the humble pie whole, nearly choking myself in the process, and feel a lasting tinge of failure reinforced by the extended job search in Massachusetts. I still receive reminders of the tight, Portland job market every once in while, as another gem of rejection appears between those Yahoo! parentheses.

The drive back, though more disappointing than the first, was more manageable, as we are now road-tested marathoners and the Fit has seen its share of opposing coast lines. We set off for Idaho Falls, ID, on Thursday, November 13. Arriving safely, I still can't believe I didn't see a potato. I think it's a conspiracy, a grand scheme of the Idaho Tuber Commission to fool America into believing Idaho has some value and shouldn't be divvied up and converted into Eastern Oregon and Washington. For everyone else disappointed with the scenery of a long Idahoan drive, here's the jewel of Potato alley and its rich, volcanic soil:
Take a good look, you farming bastards. This is what the people want; proof of your value to society, your contribution to the starchy gut of Americana, Solanum tuberosum Linnaeus, your supposed battle cry in the world economy of starchy fuels.

The drive can grow tedious and the mile meld together. Come back soon to read about our trip through the Rockies and Deer Chop Suey Alley.