Huddle in the Dome.
note-
italics is Elder Naj talking
bold is Elder Naj thinking and narrating [Elder Naj enjoyed narrating to himself]`
regular font is others speaking
Some members of Windmill Co-op were here at the beginning. Some were here for part of the Slide and others arrived during the Transition. Several moved and a fair number died. What a change in circumstance. Some of of us did not know each other at all until the Slide turned into the Transition. Others began purposeful collaborations fifteen years before.
Windmill Co-op can trace its most distant origins to fifteen years before the Slide, in 2000, when Elder Naj began to transform his suburban quarter acre. As we moved into the Slide, it was obvious to everyone the importance of neighbors learning to work with each other. The better people knew each other, for the most part, the better the chances for productive collaborations. Having several real life examples of property transformation right there where we lived, was a great help. People could actually see what it looked like and they could see the benefits. Elder Naj's property was the first on the block to really be reworked. Over time, other properties made their own transitions with a common goal, taking care of more basic needs on site.
Early on, several other properties within a few blocks also had Permaculture site plans. We were all grateful for the good fortune living so close to each other and to have essentially the same world views. A couple blocks away, three propertes next to each other took down their fences and that was just the beginning. Those three properties became the core of the Karmalaya Co-op. Astara, another site three blocks away, became the core of yet another co-op. They all networked with each other with an increasing level of purpose moving towards the Slide.
So Windmill Co-op has history. Other members arrived during the Slide and Transition, from Eugene. Several came from nearby towns and some greater distances, managing to survive the dangers of the journey to Cascadia, then finding a way to make it across the border, successfully complete orientation near the border and join a Cluster and co-op.
"Greetings everyone."
It was Aleta from a few houses away, our Co-op president. We rotated the position yearly. Aleta had been a capable president. She was a medical doctor and had a good feel for being inclusive. She and her family had been members of Windmill, for over 15 years.
Aleta and Tom were from Dallas, Texas. They didn't know each other for long before leaving Dallas, but they became acquainted through a mutual assistance network. In Dallas, like many cities across the country at the time, 2015 - Phoenix, Atlanta, Kansas City, Jacksonville, Cleveland, more and more people came to realize there were big changes coming "soon". What began as popular internet "meet up groups" about permaculture, urban agriculture, suburban homesteading, organic gardening and voluntary simplicity, evolved into much more focused and purposeful organizations. After a while, someone had the great idea for a social networking service that complemented the increasing concern about economic decline, personal debt, resource scarcity and unemployment. People were beginning to understand, the value of forming mutual assistance organizations.
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The service was a bit like match making for romance. People submitted profiles about themselves, what they were looking for, where they lived and other useful info. But instead of two people looking for each other, the idea was to connect with eight to ten others of like mind. The meeting process was fast forward for creating a mutual support and protection alliance. Those coming together already had a lot in common and the group sorted out who fit in, who didn't and proceeded from there. After a while, the services even offered facilitators to learn social skills and a coach for practical skills, to help groups come together and make plans to meet their needs. The first people and businesses to effectively market these services made a lot of money and indeed, many people came to appreciate what they learned.
At the time, the so called sub prime mortgage fiasco was well matured and millions had lost their homes. Jobs and industries dependent on transportation and intensive use of resources such as airlines, trucking, auto, meat packing, home construction went into steep decline one after another by the mid 'teens, affecting other businesses that depended upon them. It was quite predictable. Like dominoes.
In all those cities, crude squatter camps for the homeless were setting up in parks and at city margins to such an extent that the authorities could not keep up with them all. The camps were looking like the shanty towns, once a fixture to Third World cities. The ramshackle structures, the poor hygiene, the squallar, all within view of the gleaming downtown office towers and shopping malls of downscaling Denver, Little Rock, Tucson and Mobile.
In its early hay day, the Sun Belt owed its very modern existence to air conditioning. The heat and humidity would have made the explosion of population there from 1950 to 2000 unlikely. From North Carolina to Missouri, to southern Nevada and south would have remained low population density swamp or desert without artificially cooled air. When my own family moved from New York to Dallas in 1958, the 4 bedroom, two bath brick ranch style home we moved into on Linden Lane in north Dallas was fully air conditioned and had a dog house with its own air conditioner.
In Dallas, from mid May to well into October, one went from an air conditioned house, to an air conditioned job and back home in an air conditioned car. That was before Climate Change. By 2016, the climate controlled way of life was visibly shaken. The power disruptions were becoming more than an inconvenience. To many people, the rising unemployment, cost of gasoline, expensive and increasingly erratic food supplies is what caused many to find the survival match makers. People paying attention came to logical conclusions, the big cities, starting first in the south, did not seem to be the place to weather the hotter temperatures nor the economic disarray. That's when Aleta met Tom, in a basement meeting at an Episcopal Church in North Dallas.
They met through a local matchmaker, paid for a facilitator and "survival expert" and with a dozen others, made a plan over several months to pool together their resources and luck. The group set their exit from Dallas for spring 2018. There was still fairly dependable access to gasoline although the cost was up to $11 per gallon in the inflated currency of the time and supplies were becoming unpredictable. Fights and even shootings were not unheard of in the lengthening and increasingly unruly lines to fill up. Now and then, an entire gasoline delivery truck was hijacked. Soon, the trucks were escorted by armed guards. Still, with enough money or goods to trade, gas could be found.
At the time they left Dallas, the federal authorities were still urging people to stay put and be patient. The disruptions in electricity, food and oil supply were only temporary they said. But few believed the reassurances.
Aleta, Tom and their group, did leave Dallas. They headed west on I 30 in a caravan of 6 vehicles and a hefty cache of weapons and ammo, arranged by their survival mentor. It was a costly adventure.
By the time the group arrived to the Oregon Border, they were depleted and traumatized. Of the fourteen adults and eight children who started, exactly half of each did not make it. Lucky for those who did make it, the Oregon Border was still open. Less than two years later, the bridge was fortified and what was on the west side of the Snake River was no longer Oregon,,,,,it was Cascadia.
"OK. Great to see everyone! Can we huddle?"
The "huddle" was the name given to a big group embrace and synchronized breathing. It had the effect of creating both a physical high and also a very strong emotional bond for those participating, especially when repeated over time with the same people. It was one of several rituals that brought cohesion and grounding to Windmill Co-op. We used the huddle as a bittersweet tribute to a different time in history but also as a statement of intent to survive.
Before the Slide, professional sports occupied a remarkable amount of time for tens of millions. Of course football was one of those sports. Mostly males devoted untold hours watching their favorite teams. Over the course of a couple decades, pro football took over Sunday, then Monday, Saturday and eventually, towards the end, there were games almost every night of the week during the season.
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Basketball, baseball, hockey and other spectator sports added to the sports obsession. The advertising revenue was unbelieveable and the salaries of the players became a striking statement of the values the free market economic system placed on entertainment. Professional players were making literally millions. Teachers and social workers would have to work twenty years to make the same pay as some right tackle or left fielder you never heard of.
As the Slide gained momentum, professional sports began to lose appeal. As unemployment grew, fewer and fewer people could afford to buy the tickets to the games nor the products that paid for the advertising that ultimately paid the players. Automobiles, tires and cheap beer were icons of a period of history that proved to be only temporary. Over scarcely a decade pro sports went from hugely popular and obscenely profitable to unaffordable, irrelevant and abandoned.
As the Slide deepened during the late 'teens, tens of millions of people struggled with the challenges. There was a clear and urgent need for neighborhoods and communities to accept the huge changes and pull together to do what the new circumstances called for. Bubba Power was born. In one town and then another, untold sports fans awoke as from an enormous shared coma and volunteered themselves for the civic good. Saturdays became days for parking lot removal, community gardens were planted, thousands of front yards went from grass to garden, civic action committees and mutual assistance networks were formed, new projects to take care of more needs closer to home sprang up all over the country
. 
Bubba Power was a force to be rekoned with as millions of former sports fans traded recliners, bleechers, tail gate parties and sports bars for neighborhood and community. The Bubbas were joined by still others. The virtual world of computers became unplugged - millions came out of their cyber lairs. And then the recreational shoppers, movie buffs, patrons of gyms and spas and all manner of people who had been seduced by affluence, tens of millions acted upon a newly discovered sense of purpose. There was little choice and they joined the surge of community service.
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No one knows where, it could have been Dubuque, Greenville, Santa Rosa. Many claimed the distinction of being a part of the first Huddle. It was simple enough. All accounts of the first huddle were similar. Someone at some community work party, waiting with hundreds of others for the day's task instructions, perhaps contemplating how different life had become, spontaneously hugged a few strangers standing nearby, others close by saw the act, joined in and within minutes, that small embrace of a few became a powerful magnet to hundreds who shared a very uncertain future. Many who were present claim it was like a mystical experience, there was a tremendous sense of belonging, a positive vibration, a connectedness, and shared purpose. The legend goes, someone, overcome by emotion, surrounded by dozens of strangers and friends, embracing, squeezing, awakening for the common good, shouted out "This is like a giant huddle!"
At that point, hundreds on the scene exploded with laughter and joy. The new ritual was given a name, and the whole practice spread. It was a sort of group thanksgiving, prayer of hope and celebration all at the same time.
People from that Huddle started other Huddles. All over the declining United States, Huddles provided a sense of belonging and common purpose. After a year or so, practically every neighborhood and community event began with a Huddle.
Bubba Power, well acquainted with the huddle, quickly added its full and considerable presence to Huddle Mania. An explosion of civic purpose was unleashed. Uplifted and enthusiastic neighborhood and community projects came into being, north, south, east, west, urban, suburban, rural and nearly every such occasions started with a Huddle.
As it turned out, the tremendous outpouring of civic energy was not enough.
It was too little too late with too much to overcome - decades of neglected social skills, decades of neglected practical skills, decades of lost community cohesion. From Miami to LA, from Winnemuca to Levittown, almost all of those wonderful community efforts fell far short. History shows that millions who participated in community uplift and gave it their all did not survive another five years.
Yet, the Huddle is remembered fondly and strongly in the few places where it still endures such as all over Cascadia. And Windmill Co-op could Huddle as well as any.
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With no guidance or prompting, as people arrived at the Dome, they added to the growing and swaying merging of body and spirit. Windmill Co op Huddled. Eyes closed, breathing went into a synchronized rhythm. The collective vibration harmonized. There were sighs and murmurings for a full twenty minutes, everyone. And then, with no prompting, almost on cue, everyone opened their eyes, looked all around, made eye contact with everyone within view, one final squeeze and release - that was it. The Huddle was over.
"Ready? Lets start the meeting. The agenda, the Eastern Border, the bike path, the horse railway, funerals, Windmill sponsoring a new cluster and finally, a request for possible membership."
Everyone was settled. Couches, pillows, chairs, even an old, many times repaired Yucatan Hammock [gratefully, we had learned how to make a good knock off]. On a mild spring evening, there was no need for the insulated drapes. Windmill Co-op was gathered together for Monthly Meeting. There were 53 people and several visitors. The electric party lights were on although there were gaps where some greens, blues and oranges had worn out with no replacements.
"First, can we welcome visitors?"
"Hi, I'm Rob and visiting from the Lupine Cluster. Home is near Coberg. We are part of Turning River Rural Co-op. We are five clusters with 45 people. Its my couple days in town and I've known Cindy and Mick for years. We've been catching up and I've been wanting to see how life goes for my friends here in town."
"Welcome Rob. Good timing. What is your in town partnership?"
Almost all rural co-ops had an in town partner. There were many advantages and complimentary assets. Both locations provided a place to take a break from either in town or in the country. Town partners would help out at important times of the agricultural year. In town partners provided certain goods and services like access to medical care not available out of town. Some rural co-ops in the hills supplied raw forest products that might be refined in town. Urban and rural alliances were vital to life in Cascadia.
"We partner with Kincaid Co-op in the Amazon area. Its good. Kincaid Co-op was one of the first co-ops to form, back about 2016.
"Thanks Rob, we're glad you're here. So next is Misty."
"I am Misty and one of your agenda items. I am asking for a trial stay with interest to join Windmill."
"Welcome Misty. We look forward to hearing from you a bit later."
"News and announcements? Yes, Susan."
"Hi everyone. The composting group will meet next Tuesday here at the dome, in the afternoon at 3."
"Yes, Bill?"
"We are having a roofing party next Saturday at 10 at Banjo Cluster. Please join us. Snacks and drinks provided. We plan to crank up the pizza oven. We have salvaged a metal roof from several blocks away and will replace the old shingles with metal."
We have scouted out all the metal roofs in the neighborhood, determined a priority for salvage and reroof our co-op houses when we are able. We realize once the metal roof is gone, that house will be lost so we also salvage what wood, windows and other materials we can as soon after the roof is gone as possible. Windmill Co-op had a huge stockpile of used building materials.
"We have a notice from Transportation that the bike path needs some work. Its the ravages of time again, they just don't let up. How come the Romans could build the Apian Way and it was good for 2000 years and our bike path can do little better than 3 or 4? We need to smooth out the bumps where the tree roots stick up."
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Eugene had an impressive bike path network in place decades before the Transition. Many of its users, myself included, cursed the existing economic system at the time but as it turns out, the bike paths were a lot better 20 years ago than now. We have had to fill in cracks and level places that looked like small scale fault block mountains. Tree roots also pushed up under asphalt. We didn't have concrete to pour or hot asphalt so we had to use bricks. We hadn't quite mastered the technique of a totally flat surface. Lengthy sections of bike path now had many small bumps instead of a few large ones. Most people had gained a whole new respect for long lost pavement skills and bikes with bigger tires have fared better than skinny tire bikes.
"Ok. That's all ? First agenda item is Eastern Border. Robin, can you tell us about that?"
Robin stood up. She was thin but strong. There were virtually no overweight Cascadians. Her simple clothes showed she preferred the new hand made over what was left of the BT wardrobe.
"Yes I can. The background. As you all know, in the Early Days, the border with Idaho was closed. There was a flood of refugees that had become just overwhelming. The horrible decision had to be made. In essence, better to have a few lifeboats that could float rather than have them all overloaded and all sunk.
This was perhaps the most difficult and controversial decision ever made in Cascadia. It meant that after a certain date, entry into Cascadia would be severely limited. At the border, makeshift encampments were set up on both sides. One in hopes of making it across, the other to ensure that did not happen. What lead to the closings was a massive shift of millions in population from the south towards the north. Oregon, Washington State and British Columbia were the destination and there was not room for everyone.
In 2018, the governors of thoses states and province signed a secret agreement that if necessary, and by unanimous agreement, the borders would be closed. And shockingly, only six years later, that is what happened.
"We fortified the border and sent out word that what was Oregon, Washington State and southern British Columbia had become Cascadia and the border was closed."
The US military, or what was left of it, declared its intent to intervene. Even by the early 20's, it still had the capacity to open up the border by force but for some unknown reason, it never followed through. Rumor had it that some high level officials from outside Cascadia were offered refuge within Cascadia if the military action was called off. If they had allowed the military action, they would have destroyed their chances for personal survival. Cascadia would have been overwhelmed by desperate refugees.
Personal self interest by the priviliged from the remains of the US may have been crucial for Cascadia's early survival. A dark shadow in Cascadia's past? No one knows for sure but its not a stretch to guess where the heavy weapons come from that defended the border. And then, Cascadia has allowed several experimental colonies to live in curious isolation, a couple in Lane County. Some speculate one of these colonies may be home to our very own former US president from thirty years ago and his chosen entourage, or at least his descendents.
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The room was quiet.
Almost 15 years later, many remained traumatized with the decision to close the border even though, few would deny, given the conditions at that time, without the border closing, Cascadia would not have survived.
"We have all heard stories of what is going on beyond that line. There are still people out there but its not safe. The border still requires protection and remember, we do admit a certain number of newcomers. This agenda item is about border security. As you know, all parts of Cascadia have agreed to provide support for Border Protection. River Road District needs to provide 12 volunteers. Windmill's share is two volunteers."
“I disagree. The border should be open for all. And the border protection people are turning that task into a military operation. So we don't have a volunteer, that lottery is like being drafted. I can see this border volunteer lottery set up evolving into some kind of coercive authority. All that oppression of force before the Transition is creeping back. We shouldn't have a border in the first place!”
It was Stephanie. She might be described as a proponent of open borders, minimal law and enforced order. She was not alone.
“My own cousins were denied access to Cascadia 15 years ago. I went to the Border my self to see them. I had to cross the bridge into Idaho because they weren't even allowed onto this side of the river. They suffered horribly, walking, hitching rides, risking their lives coming from Ohio hoping to make a new life here. And they were denied access. I almost stayed with them in Idaho but they urged me to go back to Cascadia. There was no future with them. I never saw or heard from them again.”
Stephanie was sobbing and shaking. Several people surrounded her to comfort her. This had happened before. Angela was kind to offer support.
“That's all true, Stephanie. We know it was a harsh decision and many suffered. All of that did happen, its all been discussed. We can't change what happened to your relatives.”
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Stephanie continued to sob and another voice was heard.
"The Border is where Cascadia places judement on human lives. So, we do accept people but its only when it works for Cascadia. Its only the healthy we take. Its like the other side of the line is a reservoir that Cascadia taps into when its in our own selfish interest."
This was Intel, also known as a critic of the controlled Border. A couple friends were helping Stephanie leave the dome. Intel continued.
"So we allow in people when it works for Cascadia. We do have a low birth rate so the reasoning goes that we need to add new people on occasion. Its like the people beyond the border are a reserve to be used at Cascadia's convenience. So we take the healthiest and smartest and leave the rest. Isn't that a kind of judgemental? Its just not ethical."
We had gone over all of this countless times. Some had suggested the critics trade places with the hopeful refugees but no one ever did. The conversations usually ended in a lament and that was that. And such was the case this time. The predictable response defending the border was next. It was Wolf.
"If the border was not there, we wouldn't be either. Cascadia is one of the few places in the country, probably one of the few in the world, where the essence of civilization is not only being preserved, we are building on the wreckage of the mistakes before us. We have a responsibility. The border is not so much about preserving our own individual selves. Its more about re-building humanity making use of the lessons that history has provided us with."
Intel responded sharply."That's a convenient and self serving excuse."
"Done!"
Twenty people cried out "done." This was part of Monthly Meeting. It was part therapy. People needed to be heard so the conversation went on for a while. It was therapeutic and it was necessary and everyone respected the process. A group, from multiple perspectives took it upon themselves to end the back and forth after enough was said. No one could keep track of how many times we went through this topic. It was emotional, heartfelt, strangely healing it was still necessary.
After a few deep breaths by everyone present, Aleta bowed to those who spoke and continued. Then, almost as if nothing happened, she continued.
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"Recall how we help out with the Border. It is either by volunteer or by lottery. You know casualties are not unknown but they are few. Living conditions at the border are modest but make one appreciate life back here west of the mountains. Its chilly in the winter and hot in the summer. The time commitment is one year. There are no vacations. You won't know exactly what part of the border you will go to but the volunteers from Windmill can remain together. Volunteering at the border is an important part of creating cohesion throughout Cascadia.”
“This is a wonderful way to meet fellow Cascadians. Volunteers come from all over the region, even some from further north around Vancouver. Also, there's fascinating work helping with the early part of the process for integrating new comers from across the border. Typically, each border camp accommodates one hundred volunteers, its like what we knew as summer camp. With the age requirements, twenty to thirty, it is quite a unique experience. Needless to say, there are other activities going on besides securing Cascadia. I know of a number of people who met and became partners serving at the Border. Its not unusual for people to volunteer multiple times. Most of us have been there."
“This is the first call for volunteers. If you would like to volunteer and are between 20 and 30, please see me. If we do not have our two volunteers by next Discussion, we will have a lottery.”
“OK. Next agenda item
"Alright. Where were we? Newcomers. Windmill will be welcoming a new Cluster of three children and five adults. They all left Arkansas together. I have read the overview of their story and it is an impressive one and loaded with adventure. Wow! Windmill has adopted new arrivals before, its been a several years. "It helps to remind us how grateful we should be. These people were on the road for four months and then at the arrival center near the border for three more months and have been through four levels of orientation. The reports of their adjustments are good. Let's show some Windmill Co op hospitality. Let's all be welcoming to our new cluster when they arrive."
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"So, the new Cluster will live at the most recent house we have fixed up on Melvina. Several of us will meet our new arrivals next week and within a week
after that, we can introduce them to more residents of Windmill. The children will be with the adults part of the time and part
of the time they will meet other children."
Arkansas, I thought to myself. Its a long shot but I will just have to find out when I can.
"Next agenda item. The horse railway. Elsa, can you please tell us about the horse railway? Elsa works with Public Works as most of you know."
"Yes I can."
Elsa, with here bright red hair had lived in the neighborhood all her life. I knew her as a child and watched her grow up. She moved downtown late in the Transition and was now working with the team managing the horse railway. Although as a community we made efforts not to put a greater value on one kind or work or another, helping to look after the beloved horse railway was a popular and demanding responsibility.
Eugene's mix of transportation options went through a series of increasingly dramatic changes starting about 2016. By that time, it became clear to practically everyone that the days of the automobile were numbered. It turns out all the much celebrated efforts up to that time -- electric cars, bio fuel, exotic materials, hybrids - consumed an enormous amount of time, engineering talent and investment but barely delayed the extinction of the private automobile. We could have done better with all that time.
Following the lead of other cities and towns, Eugene closed its first automobile street, if only for a half day special occasion, back in 2011. The positive response was overwhelming. When people had a safe place to bike and walk, many would make that choice rather than drive.
In River Road, by 2015, plans were underway to convert part of the street to a rapid bus way in both directions. Not long afterwards, the Slide began and by the the late 'teens, car traffic had gone down by 60%. Then came the the real changes when cars and gas became unaffordable for most people. Even the buses were difficult to maintain. By 2028, well into the Transition, we had begun to install rails for the trolley and horse pulled was chosen over electric, considering, we did not have enough electricity for trolleys.
Track was salvaged from the rail yard only a couple miles away and installed in the street, the rails recessed so the tops were at street level. At the same time, new policy lead to the creation of walkable neighborhood schools so school busses became in surplus supply. Several dozen were modified to be used as trollies pulled by horses. It was quite a site. Streets all over town were taken over by a horse railway and bicycles by the late 2020's.
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Public Works was overseeing trolley installation on other roads in Eugene such as Franklin, Willamette, Hiway 99 north, Roosevelt, Patterson, West 11th and West 13th, Coberg Road and Cal Young. The entire network was coming together. New business areas were beginning to concentrate where the railway stopped for passengers and particularly where two routes intersected.
The Railway speed was up to ten miles per hour but few people were in a hurry and it was fun. Public art was displayed along the Railway and having attractive stops was a priority of every neighborhood to show off. During the day, one rarely had to wait more than a half hour for a ride. Over the past 25 years, people had become far more relaxed and the pace of life had slowed visibly. What used to be urgent was much less so in 2035.
"Hello Windmill Co-op. So nice to be here. The ride over on the trolley was very pleasant. This part of town is known for its attractive trolley stops and public art. I remember the mural on the old Goodwill building that included a trolley. Our esteemed Elder Naj painted that about 2003, correct Elder Naj?"
"Yes, that's right Elsa. And most should know that of the people included in that mural, you were in it, picking blue berries."
"That's right. Closest to the street, just next to the painted newspaper box. Recall, the newspaper box had several visionary painted headlines. How true they turned out to be, about the changing climate and the cost of gasoline."
Aleta added. "We all know about the mural, Elsa. Elder Naj is fond of reminding us."
A good chuckle from the group.
Then Elsa. "Its nice to share one's cherished memories. So I have come to you all this evening with some news about the horse railway. We have been asked by several other towns how our railway works. So we invited delegations to visit. We are asking for some hosts to give them a real Eugene experience while they are here for 3 or 4 days. Would Windmill like to host four people for three days in four weeks? We expect people from Roseburg, Salem, Olympia, Everett and Bellingham. Please talk it over and let me know. Thanks for considering being a host. I think you all would be great for the task.
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Ok. Last but not least agenda item. We have a young woman named Misty, who is interested in an extended trial residence, with the longer term being possible membership in the co-op.”
"Misty, can you tell us a bit of your request and sponsor?"
"Yes, I can."
This young woman had a casual but deliberate way about her. Fit and seeming self confident, its unusual for a 15 year old to be going out like this. Its rare for anyone to seek a change in their co-op status, especially at such a young age. When people became partners, it was common to change a co-op but a single young woman, maybe this was unusual and the first time for Windmill.
"I 'm Misty and currently live in South Town at Piedmont Co-op, Fox Cluster. We have been part of the hillside salvage projects since before I was born. My intuition has been telling me for several years I need to make a change. I did a vision search and the interpretation is towards Earth and plants."
"My mentor has recommended caution, shifting to a new cluster is a considerable change. That's why I am looking for a lengthy probation period. My attraction is more towards soil than salvage. I have been with our garden team since I was 11 and have been given a good deal of responsibility. Also, Windmill Co-op has attracted me. I have a resume and references."
"Thank you Misty. Anything to add?"
"No, thank you, only that I am taking part in Elder Naj's just beginning Newbie group."
"Thank you, Misty. You know that you will need sponsorship from a Cluster and a personal sponsor as well. We will see you again for a progress report next month."
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"I am aware of that and am making arrangements."
OK. Just a few more housekeeping items.
“Lets make sure we are not creating mosquito hatcheries outside. Spring is here. We know what can happen when we don't keep up with standing water. Since the Transition, we have seen a number of outbreaks of what were likely mosquito born diseases."
Hardly a year went by when at least a few people around town died from some kind of unfamiliar disease. We did have books on diseases and symptoms but without the kind of lab work easily available 40 years go, we still had to do some guess work. Best just to try to avoid the problems. We may have been lucky so far.
"OK everyone. Thanks for coming. See you all here or there."
Meeting was over and people were breaking up into groups for chat or leaving. There were some important agenda items to think about and act upon. Windmill had a number of eligible people for the Border. Someone would step forward. And a new cluster to host. And Misty, she too, would likely be welcomed for a trial residency.