The March Hare: Fall 2006 Issue 50

Homecomings • Going Home • Reflections • Nature Corner • Bernadoette • Wordy Gurdy

Going Home Again

By Alline

When Kurt and I first visited Dancing Rabbit in February of 1999, there wasn't much Ôthere' here. The Timberframe and Allium had been started, and the outdoor kitchen was set up (i.e. shoveled out and cleaned up) and ready for use. But most activity took place across the road in the double-wide trailer that was DR HQ. We slept in a windowless cubby, where we were awakened to Aaron phoning lumber yards looking for metal lathe. We ate with the nine Rabbits in a kitchen with patched linoleum and sheets of plastic taped to the windows to hold in any extra warmth. We had sing-alongs, rousing discussions about ecological issues, and made snide political remarks to people who knew what we were talking about. We learned a dozen new jokes and several mysterious punch-lines ("Got any brass Republicans?"). It was freezing cold. I mean cold.

What was it about this bleak gray landscape, and the worn­around-the-edges double-wide trailer, in arctic Missouri weather? Rarely had I been in such a physically uncomfortable place. And yet I felt invigorated, excited, and hopeful. I felt supported and encouraged. While I was a complete stranger and totally out of my element, for some strange reason I felt at home.

Alline and Baloo

When we made our arrival plans in 1999, I jokingly requested a parade. I didn't know then that the Rabbits take such personal requests seriously. As we pulled our moving truck into the circular drive that hot, humid June day, Rabbits and interns came running from all directions. Soon they had formed a happy conga line playing the trombone, base drum, pots and pans. There were jugglers and singers and general cheerers-on. It was grand.

In the summer of 2004 we chose to move back to California to care for my ailing parents. We didn't know how long we would be there. And while we hated to leave our friends and projects (icncluding our house), we felt grateful that we had chosen a lifestyle that enabled us to pick up and help those we loved the most. As always, we received an enormous outpouring of caring and support from the Rabbits.

In California we arranged for home hospice care to assist us. My mother died in September; thirteen days later my father had a heart attack. He died in December. It was intense, humbling and difficult. But ultimately we felt fortunate to have been able to help.

We have taken the last year and a half to grieve and take care of the detritus of lives lived in the same place for 55 years. In September we sold my parents' house, and are headed, finally, home to Dancing Rabbit.

In the interim, when we've come to DR for brief visits, our homecomings have been low-key but joyous. We inevitably interrupt a meeting or a meal, and Rabbits come tearing out of buildings (led by Rowan, Cynder and Toren, possessors of the most beautiful smiles on the planet) for hugs all around. We feel like visiting dignitaries.

We'll be back at DR, I hope for good, in just a few days. My brain is exploding with plans. We hope to finally get Milkweed Mercantile off the ground, and become a business incubator for DR. I feel relieved, excited, and content. I'm not expecting a parade, nor do I need one this time. Just a big smile and a hug or three, and I'll know I'm home.

Alline and Kurt at the 2001 Rutledge Fall Festival, proud 3rd-place winners of the Back Seat Driver competition

Homecomings • Going Home • Reflections • Nature Corner • Bernadoette • Wordy Gurdy