Our trip to Black Moshannon State Park was relaxing and wonderful.  The weather was a little inclement - it even drizzled a little on Saturday - but we got in some good walks and cooked almost completely in the fire outdoors.  I found it remarkably easy to keep the cabin warm against the high-40s night temperatures with a wood fire.  Actually, I practically cooked us on Saturday night.  I've always dismissed wood stoves as a huge hassle for very little payoff in heat, but I can see now that heating an underground house, for example, with a rocket stove or pellet stove is actually very possible.

I didn't write a post about this when it happened, but I gave notice at my job about two weeks ago. I had been building it up in my head as this huge, scary thing. I was putting it off and putting it off, dreading the moment when I had to tell my boss I was leaving at the end of May. I know I am only required to give two weeks' notice, but my job is not the kind of job you can just put some random person into. It took forever for me to feel adequately trained and able to handle the huge amount of stress and multitasking the job I have requires, and I knew my boss would panic if I told her I was leaving in two weeks. She's been good to me; very supportive and kind, and I didn't want to do that to her, or to my unit/coworkers in general. So I gave a lot of notice-- almost two months.

I built it up in my head, emailing her telling her I needed to have a meeting when she had time. I was practicting this speech over and over in my head, editing it, figuring out how to say that I was leaving...I was so fucking nervous I could barely handle it, waiting for her to schedule that meeting for me to go up to her office. Then one afternoon she just waltzed down to my office (it was the end of the day and I was the only one there, I doubt she would have done it this way if there were others around) and said "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

I completely froze up for a minute, being all like "uhhhh" and then she just says "You're leaving, aren't you?". Bam. Done. She said it for me. We had a ten minute talk and it was fine. I was really honest with her about what I was leaving to do-- something I wasn't sure I was going to be able to do when I first thought about giving notice. I always thought I would say something vague, like "I'm leaving Philadelphia."...I don't know why! I guess I didn't want to see what I thought her reaction would be to this trip, the disappointment of me leaving my position where I know I'm valued to do something technically really "irresponsible" and self-indulgent. However, this was not her reaction at all. She was excited for me, though really sad I was going, and she said this was the time for me to do things like this, and she told me how happy she was for me. She also appreciated how far in advance I told her, so I'm glad I did it that way.

Anyway, I feel silly for making this big deal about it in my head. It was fine, more than fine. And now I feel like I can relax at work a little more, because my boss knows and my coworkers know and I can be honest about what I'm doing and when I'm leaving. May 25th is my last day. That'll give Aram and I a full free week without work to do any last minute packing and cleaning before we leave on June 1st.


In other news, I paid for a WWOOF membership and started looking at farms that Aram and I will want to try to contact to work on during our trip. We've been talking a lot more in detail about this and have located two farms in particular that we want to work on.One is in Michigan and one is in Oregon. We are going to contact both this weekend, first the one in Michigan and then, depending on how that conversation goes, the one in Oregon. We are ideally hoping to work at the farm (or a farm, if the one we want to go to is booked) in Michigan in the end of June/beginning of July. That would give us about 2-3 weeks to go up through Maine, into Canada, and spend some time in Quebec City and then Montreal before heading into the upper peninsula of Michigan. We would then drive to the farm and work there for hopefully 2-3 weeks, which would take us into July. Then we would continue the trip to Chicago and stay with my friend for a week, and then take almost the whole month of August to do the section of our trip that includes Wyoming, Montana, the western part of Canada (Vancouver and Vancouver Island, the Canadian Rockies, etc), Washington and the Olympic Mountains. Then we would hopefully have a farm booked to WWOOF for the end of August/into September in Oregon; again, hopefully for 2-3 weeks. Following that, around the middle of September, we would start the more open-ended part of our trip, going through the rest of Oregon and down the coast of California, where we have some of my family we're going to visit and a lot of sights we want to see.

So this is the slowly forming plan! This weekend it's supposed to thunderstorm both days all day (I'm crossing my fingers one of those is a lie because I'm supposed to be doing my last long training run for the Broad Street Run, which is on May 6th, and I do not want to run 9 miles in the rain this weekend because that would suck) and we're going to hole up at least one of those days and contact some farms and hopefully make some good connections and get on our way to booking them for the times we want (fingers crossed). We're also going to buy some good maps/an atlast and start actually looking at physical roads and tracing the route we want to take more specifically. Also, I am going to take all my clothes out of my completely broken dresser and put it in the trash, and also pack up anything I want my parents to take home with them when they visit in two weeks. I took home a few things when I went home for Passover, but I have a couple little things left that I want them to take home-- not much, really. We don't have that much stuff left. I'm going to send home some of our kitchen stuff that I want to keep but don't have use or room for in the van-- the ice cream maker we got off craigslist for 10 bucks (best buy ever), our juicer, immersion blender...blah blah blah. Can you tell I love kitchen stuff?

Anyway, feeling good about getting more on top of the WWOOF thing and I'm looking forward to having a productive weekend and getting a lot of planning and other things done. We are leaving so so soon, I know it's going to just sneak up on me and I want to do as much as I can before that last week so we're not scrambling with only a few days left to get things together!

Another bike kerfuffle today.  I was filtering between rows of cars stopped at a light when a pedestrian walked out between two cars.  Unfortunately, I saw her only a second before she saw me, and my, "Whoa whoa WHOA" didn't catch her notice.  I know it's hypocritical for me to wish that pedestrians would obey traffic laws, since I break them constantly on my bike, but really, is crossing at the crosswalk too much to ask?  She was fine, by the way, and apologetic.  I got knocked into a car when I hit her, and luckily that wasn't scratched or dented.  I swear to god, they're trying to kill me.

I'm taking on some hours at my old job, at the coffee shop.  Unlike my full-time job, they've been made aware that I'm leaving in June, but it sounds like they're pretty desperate, and not doing too well financially, and need someone they trust to manage when the GM goes home.  For my part, I want to keep up my barista skills, such as they are, and supplement my pay.  I really liked my old job, and if I'd been able to get the hours I needed, I'd probably still be working there.  Next week, we'll see how my sanity holds up to four consecutive 14-hour workdays.  That weekend in the woods is gonna feel good.

Yeah, THANKS

Friday was Jenna's birthday.  I came home from work, while she went out with some co-workers and friends.  I put my bike in the trainer and exercised for a while, and did some maintenance.  As I was riding down Chestnut Street to join her group downtown, a taxi abruptly cut in front of me to pick up a party of merrymakers, no doubt also going downtown for Friday night's Saturnalian excesses.

This was deja vu for me.  Last August, a few blocks further East, exactly the same scenario had played out: a taxi swerved, without signalling, to get a fare.  I didn't have time to stop, and we collided as he pulled into the bike lane.  While I was picking myself up and assessing the damage, the driver pulled away, leaving me with a broken collarbone and no license plate number.

This time, instead of running smack into the side of the cab, I jammed my brake and went over the handlebars, splattering myself across the lane.  I got up, expounding profanely and at maximum volume on the repellent, reckless, and repugnant character of taxi drivers.  However, the driver stepped out of his car and asked me if I was hurt and needed help.  I told him he'd better damn well stick around while I figured it out.  I felt awful.  Everything hurt, but I chalked it up to scrapes and bruises.  Nothing seemed to be broken, and my bike, as far as I could tell in the dark, seemed fine besides the handlebars and stem getting turned on the steerer.  I apologized to the driver, who seemed like a genuinely nice, concerned fellow, and told him I was alright and he could go.  "Watch out for bikes," I said, lamely.

Apparently I don't learn lessons.  I locked my bike up where I fell, not having a hex set to re-set the handlebars, and caught a bus downtown.  I was feeling worse by the minute, and feeling pretty stupid that I hadn't taken down the taxi's license plate number when I had the chance.  You can never determine the extent of your injuries when your system is full of adrenaline.  I made it through the night with a latex glove full of ice pressed to my wrist.

I still don't think anything's broken, but my arms are pretty painful.  The bones got slammed back when I broke my fall on the asphalt.  I'm hoping it's just swelling.  I can't afford my insurance deductible, but at the moment I'm out of commission for just about any physical activity.

Always get a plate number.