5/24/2013. - Day 59 - And now, the rest of the story...

5/24/2013. - Day 59 - And now, the rest of the story...

For approximately a week I had been planning to play a practical joke on my grandpa's dear friend Bruce, aka "The Sniper." Over the course of the week I shared details and ideas with my grandfather who raised an eyebrow here and there but did not comment much on my plans. On the night of Bruce's birthday eve, I announced that I was going to drive to his house in cover of darkness and write "Happy Birthday" and some other less appropriate inside jokes on his windows with window paint. My grandpa nearly spit out his supper. Eyes wide, half laughing, half in disbelief, he advised me to absolutely NOT do that unless I want to get shot. All this time I had been telling him of my plans, and not until I am nearly at death's door does he state that the Sniper has strategically placed motion detectors on his property and likely doesn't tolerate uninvited trespassers very well. His timing is always perfectly calculated.

I'm briefly deflated because I had felt I had devised what was a pretty good plan. I asked my grandpa's advice on how to revise the plan in a manner which ended with everyone still alive. We discussed that I could go at dawn, with enough natural light to see but hopefully early enough that Bruce would not yet be awake. Bruce is a very early riser so my odds were slim. I took my chances.

Upon returning to the house from my adventure, I received a text message from The Sniper just as I slipped back into bed. I must have missed him but just minutes. His message indicated he knew what I'd done. It was moderately terrifying.

When I got out of bed for the second time that day, my grandfather was at the breakfast table. he announced we were going over to Bruce's later that morning to shoot. I stopped dead. I voiced that I was not so sure I wanted to go to Bruce's just so soon. But the day's plans were already set.

Today's shots and adjustments.

We packed up our gear into the jeep and drove the short distance to Bruce's house. There sat the van in the driveway, surprisingly sparkling clean.

Bruce's friend brought this
cutie over to the gun shack.

Bruce gave me one look when he emerged from the garage and then silently made his way to the shooting shack. I held my tongue until we were just about to leave and then added that his van looked really shiny. We all went into the garage to chat briefly before the end of our visit. I was cautiously optimistic that the joke had gone over well since I had survived the day together.

Borrowing Brooklyn for some
snuggles before saying goodbye
to Leslie.  

Later that afternoon, I met my friend Leslie and her dog Brooklyn for a walk on the Lakewalk. Spring surrounded us in the late afternoon trek and Brooklyn was excited to be out in the fresh air. We also made a pass through the Fitger's building to see Leslie's office and do a little shopping. After saying goodbye to Leslie and Brooklyn, I spent time at my aunt Lizette's home with her family to wind down the evening.

It was an early night since I had seen so much activity and started so early that day. Today was a good day spent with friends, family, and some sweet puppy dogs. The weather was nice, and The Sniper let me live to die another day.

5/24/2013. - Day 59 - MORNING. With a backpack packed and a mark on the map, gonna drive too fast, gonna not look back...

5/24/2013. - Day 59 - MORNING. 

With a backpack packed and a mark on the map, gonna drive too fast, gonna not look back...

It's 4:20AM.  I'm quietly getting dressed. I make sure I have the window paint in  my bag as the pickup comes to life in the dew laden morning. The tires crunch over the asphalt as I turn and head to the highway. I turn again shortly, onto a road that will lead to my destination.

I pass the driveway and search for a spot along the road close by to conceal the truck. The morning is very new and the sun is not even visible, though it's light enough out to see. As quietly as possible, I shut the pickup door and walk in stealth mode towards the driveway. I have made certain to wait until morning light came to avoid tripping off the motion sensors that flood the area with light when it's dark out if an intruder passes by. I hope I have not waited too long that the occupants of the house will be awake and catch me red handed.

The driveway is steps in front of me, and beyond that the garage. Beside the garage sits the white van which is my target. It is the Sniper's work van, a large utility vehicle, and has on more than one occasion caused me to make kidnapper jokes because of its appearance. Hopefully my timing is right and the Sniper is not in the garage and has not stirred from his bed. I slink towards the van which is also in full view of the house. I'm shaking from excitement and nervousness.

I draw out the window paint from my pocket and hastily scrawl out a message, and add "free candy" for good measure. When I cannot bear my fear of being caught anymore, I turn and sprint through the wet grass and back to the road. I am certain I have never before nor will I ever again run as fast as I am running now. My heart is pounding as I push my legs to go faster and faster to get back to the safety of the pickup. Once inside I struggle to catch my breath in the cold morning air. I'm shaking from the excitement and nerve wracking adventure. After a few seconds, I pull out of the hiding spot along the road and return to my house, and my bed. Bruce's/aka The Sniper's birthday prank complete: mission accomplished.

5/23/2013. - Day 58 - What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Um...buy flowers I can't keep alive and hang out with finely aged souls. How's that?

5/23/2013. - Day 58 - What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Um...buy flowers I can't keep alive and hang out with finely aged souls. How's that?

Thursday and Lana and I have plans for lunch with her friends, Sharon and Norma Jean. My
grandparents' friends are all sort of my friends now, as I have grown to know and appreciate each of them dearly as a part of my grandparents' life, and thus increasingly a part of my life as well. Oddly, my friends in Duluth are disproportionately of the retired population, which I am more comfortable with anyway. That age group no longer cares about status quo, fitting in or pretending to be someone they're not, and they don't fix their hair to go to the gym or do yard work. They just live. They are themselves in a pure and genuine form and I appreciate that. I have little filter and am horrible at deception unless it's in the spirit of a surprise party. I'm at home with their friend group, and enjoy time with them immensely.

After lunch, Lana and I prepared for a trek to the greenhouse, much to the dismay of my grandfather. He said something about "every year she brings more plants home" under his breath as we left.

The greenhouse was glorious, featuring multiple buildings filled with fragrant plants. I have a weakness for beautiful plants and often try to take them home in hopes that they will stay in that form. Unfortunately, they never last. I'm actually horrible at caring for plants. Even the most basic elude my efforts, with the exception of one plant I received from my elderly neighbor at my previous apartment building. I'm fairly certain she brought it up to get a foot in the door and case the place out, as well as report back to the others on my demeanor. But that thing won't die. I have no idea what it is, but it won't die. My mom and sisters are caring for it in my absence as I now feel compelled to keep it for it as long as it will have me.

Lana and I walk up and down the aisles and admire all the choices at our fingertips. We have brought my pickup as there is more room in there for pretties than in the CRV. Lana was not initially certain we should put things that shed dirt into the pickup and I assured her that is what the vehicle is for. It's for doing man's work, and this is man's work. And with that we loaded up our selections, plus one little guy I have adopted. Fingers crossed.

Later that evening we went to The Great Gatsby. I was obsessed. The era, the parties, all of it. I love it. I told Lana we should have a party like that someday, with people jumping into the pool in gowns and glitter flying everywhere. We will probably have to discuss it more. Grandpa will not be on board.

The sun sets on another day [in paradise]. Worries creep in now and then as my freedom and the open road draw to a close. In a few short days I will be home, and I will have to begin planning to be a real adult again.

5/22/2013. - Day 57 - “She knows who she is. She just forgot for a little while.”

5.22.2013. - Day 57 - “She knows who she is. She just forgot for a little while.”

― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

Today was taken up with writing, or trying to write. I feel a continual pressure to write, always, and it is especially powerful on this trip. It's there pushing and pulling at me consistently. It is one of the rare certainties in life that I know I must do. I think frequently of the quote that writers "love to have written." The part before that, the writing, is an indescribable jumble of emotions and efforts...and naps. It's exhausting, exhilarating, soulful, and just plain hard. But for those of us who feel the letters and words flow into our fingertips with an urgency to have their story told, there is no other way but directly through the wild and untamed path to a written work.

Back to the trip: When I was 25, I was going through a rough patch which was really a beginning catalyst to this entire pilgrimage. I wrote myself a letter, a letter to myself at 25, and sealed it up. One day, I wasn't sure when, but one day when I had found happiness and contentment I would open it and read about my worries and troubles at the time. I know for certain that whenever that day comes, those worries will seem so insignificant now. Perspective is a lesson often learned in hindsight, accepted with age.

With each passing day on this journey I learn more about myself, and let the pieces go that aren't important. Worrying about the uncontrollable, getting upset over little ripples in every day life--these parts of me were ok to let go of on this journey, and in this life. The other parts, the important pieces like faith and morals and values, have been challenged and strengthened each day. I know what I stand for and what matters to me, and I'm learning to let go of the other stuff that is just getting in the way. It's like I'm getting to know myself in a way that I wasn't free to do before.