segue

In the quietest place of your soul resides the biggest, scariest dream.  It’s the one you don’t voice, even to yourself.  Until a little piece of the universe breaks off, flutters down, like a pear blossom in spring, and scorches your soul.

why the change of heart?

At some point over the past 18 months, after seeing that RoadTrek in person,  I realized what I really wanted was a ‘space’ and as clever as the RoadTrek is, space for two people to stand up and touch their noses at the same time it doesn’t have.

where have almost 2 years gone?

Into the unexpected.

A rather long red light on the road of life. It does not seem to be the things I fear that happen – rather it’s the things I could have never imagined that always seem to trip me up.  I wonder if that’s a common experience?

It is gratifying to come back to this blog and realize how long now I’ve held this dream close to my heart.  Time to pick the threads back up and actively begin anew.

eine kleine nachtmusik

The Good Man is musically gifted.

He has the ability to play by ear and possesses incredible natural rhythm.  Music has always been one of the defining structures of his world and he brought it into our relationship.  In addition to expanding my horizons, he has also introduced me to the enchantment of drum circles. I mention this, because if you haven’t been to one, even if you just bring a small hand drum to tap in the background, I highly recommend adding the experience to your bucket list.  Good ones will transport you into a communion of harmony that’s nothing short of spiritual.

serendipity and a nod from the universe

Today was my birthday.

I’m 48 today. Wow. Ha.  I was the chick that didn’t think she’d live past her twenties.

To celebrate I decided what I wanted to do was go sit in a Class B van, rather than just researching them on Craigslist. The Good Man and I used to do that when we are fulltiming (it’s a quirky habit full-timers do…spend their holiday time hoofing it to the nearest RV center and seeing what else they could be living in) but it’s been several years and I wanted to make sure my memory wasn’t failing. We thought we could do okay in those smaller vehicles but I wanted to test my perception of size.

it’s all poison!

It started with nonfat powdered milk.

As part of my research I’ve been looking into both more frugal and simple ways to eat.  I imagine myself in Quartszite, dry camping, and not wanting to pull up stakes to go to the grocery.  I want a stocked cupboard where I can whip up a variety of meals from basic ingredients.

One of the things that caught my eye was how you can use powdered milk, something that doesn’t need refrigeration, for so much.  Make your own instant pudding, instant hot chocolate mix, yogurt, ricotta and paneer (a form of cheese you’ll find in Indian dishes that is in cubes doesn’t melt).  In small spaces everything should perform multiple functions.

So today, while at the store, I thought I’d pick some up and just try some of these recipes I’d found.

its all about access

Because I’m chained to my work, it’s necessary to have consistent and reliable internet access while on the road.

It ranks right up there with food and water. Seriously.

The first mistake I made when we full-timed was assuming that if a park offered wif-fi it would be working, would be available at our site, and that the speed and signal fast enough to support I don’t know – uploading a 256k image or so. My second mistake was believing that tethering to my phone was a solid backup plan.

reality #2: i am just not that handy

Both the Good Man and I have owned houses. Old houses – ones that needed fixing up.  But when we full-timed we quickly discovered we didn’t have the exact skills we needed.

When it came to complete electrical systems (not just installing light fixtures), furnaces, water pumps, generator repair, how batteries work and patching fiberglass – all those things required of living on wheels – we were clueless.

We also discovered we deeply resented the repairs. Pipes never freeze and break in sunny weather. They do so in soul numbing 8 degree blizzards.

musings

Now that I’m giving serious thought to how I want to live, my antennae are tuned in to how others see home ownership.

This past weekend, for example, I followed a lively comment thread on Facebook after a family member posted the following link about  “Why Your House is a Terrible Investment”. While I’m in agreement with the article, the majority my family aren’t. They love their homes, their family memories, being mortgage-free at some point, and from what I can gather -the ability to paint the interior wall colors any color they want.

I say this because they seemed to think they didn’t have to answer to a landlord.  Hmmm.  I’ve personally found that between zoning, housing codes, permitting, taxes and never actually having the money to improve my house the way I want to, painting the walls is about what I’m left with.

is it just a little bit of fear?

Sure it is.

Once your world falls down around you once, even if you pick it all back up and put it back together, you come to realize how fragile, how wispy, how unreal all those supports you’ve built are.  It’s a lesson I can’t shake.