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photo of the last burger

This is the hamburger I ordered at the Slow Bar in Portland, Oregon today. I wanted this for my last American meal because it is big and juicy and has great beef and two onion rings, which is exactly as many as any mature human can or should eat at once. I know there are probably great burgers in Europe somewhere, but I don’t know how long it will be until I find one.

We have finished with boxes, filed our taxes, said good-bye to our car and bikes, and turned in the keys to the apartment. The key to the storage place is our only key now.

Last night we said good-bye to friends in the cozy back room of the Ram’s Head Tavern, a place of cushy couches, leather armchairs, newspapers and wi-fi. As always, people are split between the truly envious (some of them making adventure plans of their own), and the faux-envious, who like the idea but have three houses and four horses and six cars and twelve grandkids and cannot imagine ever dislodging. It is true that dislodging was the hard part, and I can totally believe that sensible people avoid it at all costs.

Sensible has never been a problem of mine. Though the plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, the vacation has begun, in a way, We should be jubilant, celebratory, spilling champagne all over everything. But after all the dislodging and shifting and packing and emotional turmoil…gosh, we’re tired! I’m sitting in bed as I write this, and I’m not sure I can stay awake long enough to………