This is a phrase I often say to myself. It gets me going. And it’s a phrase that I say to the dogs, horses, and goats. I do not say it to the chicken; I could have said it to the first Red Hen who followed me around and sat on the upper compost station and talked to me.

Let’s go, it’s a friendly aside that one makes to another. Today the roof on the shed where we keep the stuff going to the dump let loose of its snowpack. Whomp. I came out of the outhouse and I had a choice. I could either go in the direction of the gate and open it, or I could go in the direction of Tyra’s enclosure and let her out. It was a nice day, 40˚F, so I decided to go in the direction of the gate. If I’d gone in the other direction, I would have been killed.

The import of this wasn’t lost on me. I had a 50/50 chance of being smushed by snowpack. I remember when I did my first bicycle trek, I made conscious choices, which centered around going in specific directions. These directions were life changing because I was 24 and (as one person said) had no taproot. I was at a stage in life where anything could happen. And so, I choose to take routes that led to Portland, Oregon.

Travelling alone was very tiring. I was not at all used to that sort of tired. And I was then unaware that change is a constant and if I rested for a few days, I could regroup and then keep going. So I didn’t, and I regret this, go around the world, or even circumnavigate the U.S. I also felt conflicted because back then I did want to be a newspaper feature writer.

If only I’d met up with another bicyclist, that is someone who said, “Let’s go.” I would have gone.

I have just spent ten minutes traipsing down memory lane. Time to take a few steps backward and reassess the situation. I pause because looking back is pretty easy and being in the present is very hard. Being in the past is like skating on ice and being in the present is like wading through butter. Imagine it, jumping in a swimming pool full of butter. At least, if I did this, I would not have to deal with the smell of chlorine.

In the only episode of Superman that I remember, he was trapped in an empty silo.

I wonder if there’s a way to get into the Palmer Water tower. And who strings all those lights up there?

Will Pete say, “let’s go” to the dogs, and will they all go for a walk? The dogs really love this (I pause) (I pause again) encouraging aside.

Let’s go – this would be a great title for a book. Maybe it could be something I include in my Bacon Family Family Journal because they are going on a trip – there they will be, with their bags, and one says to the other – “Let’s go.”

Next: 20. 1/20/26: One Month After the Solstice