{laundry day} You're Movin' in Slo-Mo

Watermelon slices, like the ones I'll have at my going away party tonight

Today is my last day of work. Tomorrow is moving day. Sunday we move into our new apartment. By Monday morning, my day-to-day routine will be 100% different than it is today. I'm excited, terrified, and truly sad to leave my home, friends, and what now feels like family, in Chicago. BUT, totally ready and unbelievably happy about the changes to come. Tonight is my going away party. We're planning to serve only foods that have a freshly-gardened vegetable in them: salsa, caprese salad, green bean salad, zucchini bread...should be tasty. So in the spirit of last-day shenanigans, to-do lists that simply won't get done, and preparing myself emotionally for the goodbyes to come tonight, I'm leaving you now with a few images of my life as late.

These will be put to good use tonight!

A tasty last breakfast before the move. French toast and coffee, with bags and boxes and clutter in the background.

A better picture of our new Ecuadorian tablecloth. Joe bought it in Otavalo before I arrived. It's machine-made, but from a locally-owned and operated factory in Otavalo. The design is pretty common (there has been plenty of conflict over people copying designs), and we saw varieties of it in many craft fairs. I love the warm colors of it.

A lovely daisy from the mountains of Colorado.

I love this puffin mug, and have happily been drinking my daily brew out of it each morning.

Title song: Notorious B.I.G., "Last Day"

{weekend clothesline} Far Across the Distance

Joe and I in El Ejido, the main public park in Quito, Ecuador

Okay, folks, we're a go for the epic Ecuador post I've been promising. I've found that it's been nearly impossible for me to synthesize my actual thoughts about the trip, so I'm starting with a bit of a slideshow-style post, with more pictures and less words. After things settle down a bit more, I hope to be able to put words into my currently vague and scattered feelings about my summer vacation.

Most of these pictures were actually taken by Joe and/or his advisor. We didn't bring my nice DSLR, for fear of damage or theft, so these are mostly all snapped with a cheap point-and-shoot that Joe bought after his original camera did get stolen. Some of these were also actually taken before I arrived, but they are all sights that I saw and places that I went; we just decided it was pointless to re-take pictures that Joe already had. Also, we were epically bad at actually taking pictures of us. The one above is the only usable photo of both of us. Long story short, there was no taking of outfit photos on this trip. And I was just fine with that.

Anyway, enjoy!

Top to bottom: views of Cuenca, Ecuador from some Incan ruins just outside the city; tile rooftops in Cuenca and a strange bird statue that I quite admired; the massive "new" cathedral in Cuenca, which also happened to be one of the views out of our hostel.

We took an extremely long bus ride from Cuenca to Quito about halfway through the trip. Since both are in the high sierra area of the Andes, the bus ride involved many a winding S-curve road (and therefore, much Dramamine for me), and breathtakingly beautiful views of the region. Remember what I said before about the high altitude being cleansing and mind-clearing? Yeah, that's what this is like. Whole towns (albeit tiny ones) are nestled in the highlands at 13,000 feet, and the harshness of the climate and landscape only makes for an even more surreal experience when passing through from the inside of an over-crowded bus.

Here's where we digress from my and Joe's experiences. I didn't actually make it up to the Quilotoa crater lake, though I was witness to two massive and absolutely picturesque volcanoes as we ventured through the country, Cotopaxi and Chimborazo. Joe took these pictures of the crater lake and its surrounding tourist area earlier in his trip, but I couldn't help but share them with you anyway. To me, they are positively breathtaking, and I can't wait to go back to Ecuador and see it for myself.

Quinoa! As I've mentioned before, I've spent a lot of time in South America, particularly Bolivia, and have been well-aware of the origins and traditions of this favorite grain of mine. But up until this trip, I'd never seen it growing. Unlike wheat, or rice, or, truly, any other simple grain I've seen, quinoa fields are beautiful, colorful, vibrant plots of land, a veritable rainbow of food. Harvesting happens after all the plants have reached a certain color, and up until then, the fields are a striking contrast against their highland backdrop. (The last picture above is actually of lupin, which there was also plenty of.)

I also had no idea what quinoa looked like up close. Incredible. I'm still sort of in the dark on how it is harvested, but seeing the plants in person totally changed how I feel about this tasty little grain. I wonder if we can grow it in the garden next year... (Also, an interesting side note: not once, in my 12 days or Joe's 52 days, did either of us get the chance to actually eat quinoa. I know it's mostly a home-cooking staple, but I was amazed to find that not one of the traditional Ecuadorian restaurants that either of us went to had it on the menu.)

Top to bottom: views of Quito, the capitol of Ecuador, from a vantage point just above the city; me in the plaza of San Francisco; one of the many gorgeous churches in the colonial architectural style. Most of the buildings in the old parts of both Cuenca and Quito were dominated by this kind of architecture. In the U.S., we're used to "old" meaning late 1800s (or, in some parts of the Northeast, late 1700s), but in huge parts of Latin America, "old" buildings truly date back to the late 1500s or early 1600s. Some of these are buildings that were constructed just after the end of the conquest, and have as varied and fascinating a history as any of the greats in Europe.

One of my favorite things about visiting a new place is the art, signage, and graffiti that sprinkles the area. I love it when bloggers do full posts dedicated to the street art in a particular city, and although we didn't get enough pictures to warrant a whole post, these are a few of the images that were particularly compelling to me. (The painting in the second-to-last photo was in the museum in Cuenca. I loved how it chronicles the life of man.)

The basilica in Quito, literally towering over the city.

Title song: Celine Dion, "My Heart Will Go On" (You guys. We were in an archeological museum in Cuenca, looking at pots and sculptures that were thousands of years old, and suddenly, with no notice at all, an instrumental version of "My heart will go on" blasted from the speakers in the museum. Instrumental. Played entirely with pan-pipes (to keep with the Andean theme?). Followed by a stirring rendition of "Stairway to Heaven" and "Bridge Over Troubled Waters". It was truly, and utterly, fantastic.)

{laundry day} Ice Cream Castles in the Air

The Rocky Mountains are home for me. Towering mountains, scores of Subarus, smiling, happy people, thrilled that their lives involve hiking, biking, and just generally being alive; these things signal home. But more than the smiling people, more than the vastness of the national forests, more than the old, western-style downtowns and malt shoppes and railroad depots, the thing that truly tells me that I've returned home is the sky. The sky, out west, goes on forever. Unlike the midwest or the windy city or the rolling hills of Wisconsin or the lake-filled terrain of Minnesota or the cornfields of western Illinois and Iowa, the sky in the Rockies is enormous. It takes up your whole world. And it changes. Immeasurably, minute by minute, it changes, until you go from crystal clear blue to torrential hail to deep afternoon cobalt to the clear night sky of the milky way.

The clouds look crisper there, the blue sky bluer, and the air distinctively cleaner. I love being at high altitudes. The lack of oxygen triggers your body to respond to each breath the way you never do at sea level. No amount of air is wasted, and you can feel the energy rising from each burst of new, clean breath. And hiking, getting up above it all, above the towns and cars and even the trees, makes you feel like you're even more a part of the sky than you already did. Up there, on the ridges and peaks and mountainsides of the snow-capped peaks (quite literally, despite the fact that it's late July), you feel as though there is nothing between you and the rest of the world. And truly, there isn't.

I'm not a religious person. I never have been. But the closest I ever come to feeling that overwhelming, indescribable sense of marvel about the world is when I'm up here, breathing the air and feeling the cold from the wind and the warmth from the sun. It's more of a moment of zen, a moment of pure oneness with my surroundings, with my life. A moment where everything that I've done, and everything that is yet to come, are joined in this sense of being entirely encapsulated by the sky. It's wonderful.

Title song: Joni Mitchell, "Both Sides Now"

{laundry day} A Change Gonna Come

These feet were made for wandering.

In the past two years, I've spent a lot of time writing about simplification. I've written about simplifying my life, over and over again, as new changes and developments changed the way I organized my time and lived my life. It's been a process, and one that is nowhere near over, but one which has reached a very real, very tangible turning point. One thing I've realized over the four years that I've lived in Chicago is that true change doesn't happen on its own. You make choices, choices that change the course of your world, and it is only with those decisions that new paths can be forged. Inaction only fosters inaction.

Joe and I climbing mountains in Colorado last year.

So. I've taken the reins, bit the bullet, and endless other cliches, and have made a few decisions regarding my life. I've also made a few decisions regarding my summer vacation, however, so maybe we can ease into it by discussing those first. Next week I'll be heading out to Colorado (much as I did last July) to spend a week with my family in the mountains that I know best. I can't wait to be in familiar territory, with my favorite people in the world. The midwest may have my life, for now, but the Rocky Mountains will always have my heart (and my increased lung capacity from living in high altitudes for so long!).

After Colorado, I will only have two more weeks of living in Chicago. After a year of weekend commuting, dual rents and dueling homes, I've decided to move, officially and completely, to Joe's little corner of the midwest. We're moving to a new house in mid-August, and I'll arrive a few days before the move. I'm excited, terrified, and incredibly ready for this next wonderful step in our lives. One thing I've realized this year is that living in two places, and driving as much as I've been driving, is not the best path to a simpler life.

La Paz, Bolivia, in 2006

But first! Between my family vacation in Colorado and my move to small-town life, I'll be spending ten days in Ecuador with Joe. It's something we had talked about when he first decided to go, but we put it aside because it seemed so impractical considering all the other changes about to take place. But the more I thought about it (and the more my mom encouraged me to think about it, thank you again), the more I realized that this opportunity will not come up an unlimited number of times, and if I'm taking the bull by the horns this summer, I may as well ride the damn thing all the way to South America. I haven't been to the region for years, and it's an area very near and dear to my heart, so I'm incredibly excited to be there, and to see Joe after over a month of being apart.

In the meantime, things will be increasingly slow around here. My workdays are consumed with finishing projects and checking off items on my many to-do lists. And my weekends and vacations will be filled with relaxation, exploration, and adventure. So I won't have much time, or energy, or, honestly, desire, to hop online and update the ol' blog. I've been reading all of my subscribed blogs through my Google Reader, and I plan to continue that when I can, but for a month, at least, I can't imagine doing much more than that. I'll probably pop in here and there to post an outfit or update, but, as I said, don't set your watches to me.

Happy summer!

Title song: Sam Cooke, "A Change Is Gonna Come"