Funny thing about the word commitment. If you’re really and truly dedicated to something, you’re committed. If you’re insane and need help, you need to be committed. As a I sit here writing inside my Airstream trailer parked in my driveway, waiting to leave on our road trip until I can finish packing, repacking, polishing the trailer, cleaning out our house, and trying to wrap up a thousand other details, I ponder this word commitment.
During the course of emptying our house in advance of our subletters moving in, Deirdre came across this quote that her dad had given to her years ago. I was too tired to copy it down so I took a photo of it:
So, sane or not, I’m committed. Tomorrow we pull away from our house for a trip up the coast to Pescadero, to hang out with friends before a farm-to-table dinner at Bonny Doon Vineyard on Sunday to kick-off the road trip and thank all the people here in Santa Cruz who helped make this trip possible. Without their generosity and belief in Food Forward and the crazy notion of a trip across the country in a 26-foot trailer with a family of four, we wouldn’t be here at all. I’m fortunate to have the friends and community I do. Ready or not, we’re going. We’re committed.