In a small apartment on a quiet street in the city there lived a girl. It was not the scary part of the city, but the pretty part with victorian houses, blossoming trees, and sidewalks meant for endless strolls with a puppy, or hours with a friend at a Park Ave cafe. It was a perfect neighborhood in a perfect city with familiar faces, and that means comfort.
So many have asked, “Why Texas?” and I wonder if the answer would be any more logical if I blamed it on the sudden arrival of an old grey wizard who has convinced me to set off with a band of dwarves to claim treasure in Texas. I can’t say that any grey wizards have passed my way, and I’m not sure I’d enjoy the company of dwarves, but like Bilbo, I am willing to forsake the comforts of the home I know so well for adventure. There is a spark in me that is willing to face down goblins and dragons (or a new city and unemployment?) just to see what is out there in the world. And on this eve of my journey, contemplating hobbits, I am feeling ready for the unknown that lies ahead.
I am sure my father is reading this and thinking that comparing my journey with that of a small hobbit is appropriate as he is hoping this will be a “There and Back Again” kind of story. It might be. I don’t know what my adventure holds for me beyond the comforts of my Bag End. All I know is that “The Road goes ever on and on down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And wither then? I cannot say.”