Closure is a good thing. I mean, it's not often you get to feel the satisfaction of closing off a part of your life that has been hanging, unfinished, over your head for what should have been months, but ended up turning into years. Those that have been following my story these last few years know what I am talking about. When we moved to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the lack of shop space forced me to leave a large portion of my tools and equipment in a storage facility downstate. Though I did remove some odds and ends now and again, the larger part of everything was still left behind. Though smallish, this year I will be building another workshop and, in a moment of opportunistic determination, decided to drop the wad of cash necessary to recover everything and close out that storage unit.
I say, "ouch".
This was an expensive trip, no doubt, but it did include some days that afforded us some time to ourselves. For as much as we wanted to move to the U.P., there are still many aspects of our old stomping grounds that we miss (we did live there for around nine years, after all). The thing that shocked me the most, though, was how much I seemed to miss civilization. Now, don't misunderstand me; I love being in out of the way places. Honestly, though people joke about the U.P. being the "last frontier", it's not much different from when Kim and I lived in Taylorsville, KY. Granted, it does take us a little longer to get to some places now than it did then, but in the last five years, we have thoroughly enjoyed living in the middle of nowhere. We've actually considered moving deeper into the woods. How nuts is that?
I think the thing I miss the most about civilization is the anonymity it affords. The small-town life, where everyone knows you in some fashion or another, is great, but sometimes it's nice to just lose yourself in a crowd of humans and feel the dynamic nature of the mass. Among my other interests in college, I found psychology and sociology very interesting; I enjoyed watching humans interact with one another. Many of my best story characters came from observing those in the world around me.
The funny thing about this journey happened to be that the only time something was really frustrating or went wrong, was a time that I depended on someone else for something. Ironic, when you think about the supposed "benefits" of being in a civilized area. Seriously, though, every time we were on our own, we did fine; when we needed something, everything went screwy. Our truck rental was not only a protracted process, but it ended up costing us nearly a hundred dollars more than the initial reservation indicated. Obtaining our storage unit up here was a multi-step process, as the first unit they placed us in could not be opened because of neglected ice buildup. It took quite a while for them to find a unit on the sunny side of the compound, where the ice dam had melted away sufficiently to allow ingress. The hotel? Don't get me started. Suffice it to say, I will be sending a sternly-worded letter to their home office later tonight.
But I digress.
For as many things that went wrong, a good many more went very well. I had a very good birthday dinner with the family and got to peruse the stacks of a Barnes and Noble, besides. We had some very good weather (for most of the trip), and got to see some of those places we used to frequent, mostly along the Lake Michigan shoreline. I actually got my parents to follow us down, no small feat in that, but this trip also gave my father a litany of new things to fuss and rant about (yes, it is hereditary). All this, and the fact that, aside from a couple of days, I actually had some time off. That also never happens.
Oh! And I'm going to build my shop soon! One era comes to an end as another one begins.
This is the jumping-off point for my Makerspace. I may not be getting the large facility that I will need to provide shop space to others, but I am getting a space that will allow a couple of us to start plying our trade and working up to that larger building. In the meantime, I do have enough space outdoors to give classes, weather permitting. Small steps, no? In the coming days, I am also going to make some changes that will give me not only more time to do all of this, but will also afford me a little more time to spend with the family. It is rather hard to live in such an area and not get to do much to enjoy it, and when the kids complain that they're not seeing you enough, it's time to adjust things.
To you all, my friends, I thank you for hanging on and following my story. I appreciate all of the birthday wishes, and all of the support you've given, so far. Here's to the next step in the adventure.
