I Miss Anonymity

This weekend was hard. No, that's not quite right. This weekend was shitty.

So Monday after I dropped the minions off at school, I just wanted to walk and be alone.

But that's something I've learned about Avoid.

YOU'RE. NEVER. ALONE.

There are people EVERYWHERE.

Kids walking to school. Kids walking home from school. Kids playing in the yard.

Adults waiting for the bus. Adults walking to the bus. Adults walking to work. Adults just walking. Sitting outside. Chit-chatting. Walking their dogs.

People are always outside, and it is impossible to go anywhere without at least saying hello to a dozen people.

I Have a Void

When we decided to leave the comfortable bubble of suburbia and move into Avoid, I knew there would be naysayers. People who didn't understand or who were outright opposed.

I expected it from my mom, but it didn't come. She had concerns, but I think she's gotten used to me doing things the unconventional way. 

I expected it from my dad, but instead I got encouragement and a story from his own childhood. After World War II, my dad's father had the opportunity to join the Army as an officer and move to Germany. He had special skill in local goverment and the towns there needed someone to help guide them in setting up democratic local governments. He indicated that his father turned down the opportunity because he thought it would be too much for his wife and children. That he didn't want to do anything so risky. My father, when he found out years later, was livid. "What might my life have been like," he mused, "how would I have been different if my father had taken that bold step and moved us to Germany?" He applauded our move to Avoid, and said that our family and children would never be the same.

  

He's so right. But in such a wrong way.