Yesterday I ran a few errands during Sage's naptime. Nothing unusual. I had been painting all day in direct, full-sun. H.O.T. My Jimmy Buffett Party 2006 tour tee and grey-but-originally-black yoga shorts were splattered with white paint. So were my legs...and arms...and eyebrows, I think? My bra was inadvertently left hanging on the handle of my closet door. I had not bathed or brushed my teeth...let alone washed my hair. Yes, supermodels and Playmates everywhere would have withered in the presence of my awesomeness...or my "fragrance"?
Only one block from home, and relatively certain my little girl would be waking up soon, I quickly pulled over to pick up some adult beverages for the weekend. Yes, paint-splattered, and all. As I entered Stripes, two young women walked in behind me. They headed for the same spot in the store, and were very polite when I excused myself as I reached in front of them for my beverage of choice. There is a sign over every register that reads, in blaring letters: "ID required on all tobacco and alcohol transactions." A young guy (probably in his 20s) was getting a lecture from his older colleague about checking EVERYONE's ID. Period. The colleague -- a woman in her late-40s -- looked down at the counter at my beverage, then up at my smiling but white-flecked face. "What's your birthday?" she asked. Not, "May I see your ID, please?" The bikini babes bounced up to the young man's register. Suddenly, there were several older men waiting in line, too. And everyone was staring at the young women in bathing suits.
I thanked the cashier, smiled at the young women -- they were really nice girls -- and went on my way. A guy walking out in front of me nearly crashed into the door because he was looking back at the girls. He opened the door and for a brief moment I thought he was going to hold it for me. He let it sail! Nearly smacked me in the face! But I was already mid-sentence, saying "Thank you" for holding the door. My voice took him by surprise, I think, because he glared back at me as if I had disturbed his concentration. How dare I?
I guess I have become that woman who has reached "a certain age." That age when nobody needs to see your identification and men no longer hold the door for you. That age when you are completely invisible when bikini babes are present. One might think I am bothered by this. I'm not. I was laughing so hard about what had happened that I called my mom. Maybe I was laughing a bit at myself, too, for not recognizing sooner that I am THAT age now. Those girls are easily half my age, and while I must confess I milked life of all it had to offer when I was their age, I don't want to BE their age again. I'm happy with me just the way I am. Paint-splattered and 40 ain't so bad.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
10 days
On the twelfth day of moving my true love gave to me...paint and set of brushes.
On the eleventh day of moving my true love gave to me...more paint and more brushes.
What will he give me today, on the 10th day of moving? You guessed it: more paint and more brushes...The truth is, the painting is nearly finished. Yes! One more coat on one side of the trailer and some touching up, then finish the first coat on El Valor. Paint dries rapidly on aluminum siding -- especially in this baking heat -- so we can immediately start the second coat as soon as we finish the first. After all the painting is done, we will outfit the trailer with some neat features. Think, outdoor kitchen.
Simultaneous with the customization will be the move-in to the camper as well as the trailer. Clothing, bed linens and towels will be in El Valor, while toys and books will be in the trailer. It's difficult to plan the configuration in detail without having all our gear ready. In a couple of days, all will be decided. When we know exactly what we need/want/are capable of taking, we can also decide what will be sold, or stored, or donated. The house will be empty for the first time since July 4th 2008.
Although we are cleaning as we clear things out, we still need to deep clean and make a few minor repairs. Two sets of blinds need to be replaced (thanks, Folsom!!!!) and two screens need new mesh (and thanks again, Folsom!!!!) Holes in walls need to be filled and two rooms need to be painted white again. The backyard will take two days alone. Sage's playset must be dismantled and hauled off the property. Because we did not use all of the decking, there is also leftover lumber that must be removed. Remnants of my raised bed garden must be deconstructed and taken away. Finally, the plastic under the rocks in a couple of small places must be replaced (and one more thanks to Folsom!!!!) Wait -- one last thanks to Folsom: we have some poop to clean up! Thanks, buddy!
Ha ha, I'm just kidding, Folsom. We love you more than you will ever know!
There is so much to do that we have not prepared for our moving sale scheduled for today. One Saturday left until the transition is complete; we will postpone it one more week. By next Sunday, everything that's going with us should be in El Valor or the trailer. Everything that we are keeping but can't take should be neatly stacked in storage. The rest should be sold or donated. The house should be clean, repaired and ready for the next tenants, whomever they might be. And then we can begin our journey, wherever it might take us.
Words alone can not fully convey my serenity and gratitude. This is the life I am meant to live, the path I must follow, to be the best Me I can be. Each day I give thanks that I have been paired with a partner (in life, in business, in adventure) who supports and shares my need for an authentic life. I love you, David. Bless you.
On the eleventh day of moving my true love gave to me...more paint and more brushes.
What will he give me today, on the 10th day of moving? You guessed it: more paint and more brushes...The truth is, the painting is nearly finished. Yes! One more coat on one side of the trailer and some touching up, then finish the first coat on El Valor. Paint dries rapidly on aluminum siding -- especially in this baking heat -- so we can immediately start the second coat as soon as we finish the first. After all the painting is done, we will outfit the trailer with some neat features. Think, outdoor kitchen.
Simultaneous with the customization will be the move-in to the camper as well as the trailer. Clothing, bed linens and towels will be in El Valor, while toys and books will be in the trailer. It's difficult to plan the configuration in detail without having all our gear ready. In a couple of days, all will be decided. When we know exactly what we need/want/are capable of taking, we can also decide what will be sold, or stored, or donated. The house will be empty for the first time since July 4th 2008.
Although we are cleaning as we clear things out, we still need to deep clean and make a few minor repairs. Two sets of blinds need to be replaced (thanks, Folsom!!!!) and two screens need new mesh (and thanks again, Folsom!!!!) Holes in walls need to be filled and two rooms need to be painted white again. The backyard will take two days alone. Sage's playset must be dismantled and hauled off the property. Because we did not use all of the decking, there is also leftover lumber that must be removed. Remnants of my raised bed garden must be deconstructed and taken away. Finally, the plastic under the rocks in a couple of small places must be replaced (and one more thanks to Folsom!!!!) Wait -- one last thanks to Folsom: we have some poop to clean up! Thanks, buddy!
Ha ha, I'm just kidding, Folsom. We love you more than you will ever know!
There is so much to do that we have not prepared for our moving sale scheduled for today. One Saturday left until the transition is complete; we will postpone it one more week. By next Sunday, everything that's going with us should be in El Valor or the trailer. Everything that we are keeping but can't take should be neatly stacked in storage. The rest should be sold or donated. The house should be clean, repaired and ready for the next tenants, whomever they might be. And then we can begin our journey, wherever it might take us.
Words alone can not fully convey my serenity and gratitude. This is the life I am meant to live, the path I must follow, to be the best Me I can be. Each day I give thanks that I have been paired with a partner (in life, in business, in adventure) who supports and shares my need for an authentic life. I love you, David. Bless you.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Sometimes, a little sorting out just makes sense
I've been writing about the preparations for our adventure here. This blog was supposed to follow my personal journey as a writer, mother, wife...etc. To help to keep things orderly, I've set up a separate blog to follow our family's and business' collective journey. Here's a list of our blogs and their themes:
http://nativerave.blogspot.com/ -- our biz blog. Services, speaking engagements, articles about plants and natural processes, etc. Watch the evolution toward a mobile and sustainable business!
http://christyilfrey.blogspot.com/ -- my personal blog, "christy's writerlust". Experiences as a mobile mommy, wife, writer, Green Queen, entrepreneur.
and the newest...
http://4x4elvalor.blogspot.com/ --- our adventure blog. Sometimes will overlap with nativerave, sometimes with writerlust. Will also include Sage's perspective and some travel-related topics that do not seem to fit neatly in the other two blogs.
Please subscribe to the other two! So much is changing, and the adventure is really getting exciting. I want to share my enthusiasm with as many people as possible!!!!
http://nativerave.blogspot.com/ -- our biz blog. Services, speaking engagements, articles about plants and natural processes, etc. Watch the evolution toward a mobile and sustainable business!
http://christyilfrey.blogspot.com/ -- my personal blog, "christy's writerlust". Experiences as a mobile mommy, wife, writer, Green Queen, entrepreneur.
and the newest...
http://4x4elvalor.blogspot.com/ --- our adventure blog. Sometimes will overlap with nativerave, sometimes with writerlust. Will also include Sage's perspective and some travel-related topics that do not seem to fit neatly in the other two blogs.
Please subscribe to the other two! So much is changing, and the adventure is really getting exciting. I want to share my enthusiasm with as many people as possible!!!!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
We are legal and official!
Our utility trailer is officially inspected, registered and licensed. Today we hammered out details on the final design; tomorrow we resume implementing our plan. I will, of course, snap a bunch of photos of our progress. Stay tuned.
I find it very interesting that truck campers, unlike other RVs, do not have titles. In case you are interested, here is some information about our collective Mobile Adventure Unit. I will probably update this list as our set-up changes.
* 2001 Ford F150 Super Duty 4x4 Diesel. Rugged and durable, this off-road pickup can take us just about anywhere most vehicles can't.
* 1984 Valor slide-in truck camper. Pops up. Plenty of sleeping room for Daddy, Mommy, kiddo plus dog. Sink with electric pump and holding tank. Stove runs on propane. Fridge runs on 110 (electricity) or propane (gas.) One RV service center told us it may also be powered by 12V (battery), but we have not yet tested that. 5000 BTU air conditioner in rear window; 110 required. Furnace...who needs a furnace, ha. I have no info on its power source(s) because I hope I never have to use it. Piggybacking on a 4x4 vehicle allows us to take our "home" to hard-to-reach, remote locales.
* 5x8' utility trailer, customized. Will post specs after we finish it.
* 10x10' canopy. Our outdoor living room! Mesh netting keeps out pests. Optional walls block the sun's rays, keeping us cool and...well...not sunburned? We are reusing a large tarp to create a floor. An indoor/outdoor rug in earth tones creates a warm, home-like ambience.
Our official blast-off date is September 7th. So much to do...and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep...
I find it very interesting that truck campers, unlike other RVs, do not have titles. In case you are interested, here is some information about our collective Mobile Adventure Unit. I will probably update this list as our set-up changes.
* 2001 Ford F150 Super Duty 4x4 Diesel. Rugged and durable, this off-road pickup can take us just about anywhere most vehicles can't.
* 1984 Valor slide-in truck camper. Pops up. Plenty of sleeping room for Daddy, Mommy, kiddo plus dog. Sink with electric pump and holding tank. Stove runs on propane. Fridge runs on 110 (electricity) or propane (gas.) One RV service center told us it may also be powered by 12V (battery), but we have not yet tested that. 5000 BTU air conditioner in rear window; 110 required. Furnace...who needs a furnace, ha. I have no info on its power source(s) because I hope I never have to use it. Piggybacking on a 4x4 vehicle allows us to take our "home" to hard-to-reach, remote locales.
* 5x8' utility trailer, customized. Will post specs after we finish it.
* 10x10' canopy. Our outdoor living room! Mesh netting keeps out pests. Optional walls block the sun's rays, keeping us cool and...well...not sunburned? We are reusing a large tarp to create a floor. An indoor/outdoor rug in earth tones creates a warm, home-like ambience.
Our official blast-off date is September 7th. So much to do...and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep...
Monday, August 16, 2010
Send me an angel
This weekend we had a setback with El Valor. Not a big deal...it could have been much worse. David had cut off the excess straps on the tie-downs before heading out to the hardware store. He has been working on rebuilding the utility trailer and needed more stainless steel bolts. As he turned back into our driveway, he heard a *kerrang*. He looked into the rearview mirror just in time to see one of the jacks being sheared from the underside of the camper. Immediately he put the truck into park and went to investigate. Apparently he had trimmed only 3 of the 4 straps, and the fourth unravelled somewhere between the hardware store and home. It flapped in the gulf breeze before wrapping itself around the rear tire. Wrapped and wrapped, and then when there was no more slack, yanked the jack right off El Valor. Seriously. Yanked so hard and violently that it left a gaping hole under the propane tank.
Imagine if he had been driving over the bridge when that happened. The jack would most likely have been lost...and they are not cheap. Maybe the propane would drop and explode? Who knows? But none of these worst-case scenarios happened. The entire ordeal unfolded as he turned onto our driveway, a mere 15ft from safety. I choose to believe somebody or something was looking out for him.
The hole is patched and reinforcements have been added. That jack isn't going anywhere. Oh, and the fourth strap is now the same length as the other three. Yessss.
Today a couple called about our listing on craigslist. They came to look at the item and put down a deposit to hold it. They did not call this evening, although they promised they would, but I feel relatively confident they will come pick it up soon. This will be one less thing we have to worry about. Our adventure angel was watching over us, again.
This evening after dinner we went outside to check out David's handiwork. A woman driving by in a minivan pulled into our driveway and asked about renting our half of the duplex. Let me back up a second...when I went out to get the mail this afternoon I discovered a "For Rent" sign next to our driveway. Our landlords had put up the sign sometime today; our departure is official! Anyway, back to the woman...she asked about the unit and if she could see it. Sure. I gave her a brief tour. Soon we weren't talking about the house any longer. Soon we were discussing "connecting to Earth" and holistic healing and raw food and...so many topics I'm interested in. We continued the tour, and talking, until we realized how late it was. Sage needed a bath. She desperately needed to get into bed early (as do I but look what time it is!) My new friend needed to get home to her family, too. She wrote down our landlords' numbers on the paper I had given her on which were the url for this blog and our business website. NATIVEDAVE.COM in case any of you have forgotten. ;-)
Everything we talked about reaffirmed beliefs I already value, values I already hold dear. It was as if a messenger had arrived to reassure me I'm on the right path. Sometimes, our angels put us into situations that challenge our values. Sometimes they fortify our beliefs against all challenges. Maybe 'angel' is not the right word...but someone or something invisible to me truly is watching over us. Protecting us, informing and guiding us, encouraging us. Call him/her/it what you will. But please don't scare away my angels. I'm truly grateful for their service to my family, especially as we prepare for our big adventure. Keep us safe, dear messengers. Please do keep us safe.
Imagine if he had been driving over the bridge when that happened. The jack would most likely have been lost...and they are not cheap. Maybe the propane would drop and explode? Who knows? But none of these worst-case scenarios happened. The entire ordeal unfolded as he turned onto our driveway, a mere 15ft from safety. I choose to believe somebody or something was looking out for him.
The hole is patched and reinforcements have been added. That jack isn't going anywhere. Oh, and the fourth strap is now the same length as the other three. Yessss.
Today a couple called about our listing on craigslist. They came to look at the item and put down a deposit to hold it. They did not call this evening, although they promised they would, but I feel relatively confident they will come pick it up soon. This will be one less thing we have to worry about. Our adventure angel was watching over us, again.
This evening after dinner we went outside to check out David's handiwork. A woman driving by in a minivan pulled into our driveway and asked about renting our half of the duplex. Let me back up a second...when I went out to get the mail this afternoon I discovered a "For Rent" sign next to our driveway. Our landlords had put up the sign sometime today; our departure is official! Anyway, back to the woman...she asked about the unit and if she could see it. Sure. I gave her a brief tour. Soon we weren't talking about the house any longer. Soon we were discussing "connecting to Earth" and holistic healing and raw food and...so many topics I'm interested in. We continued the tour, and talking, until we realized how late it was. Sage needed a bath. She desperately needed to get into bed early (as do I but look what time it is!) My new friend needed to get home to her family, too. She wrote down our landlords' numbers on the paper I had given her on which were the url for this blog and our business website. NATIVEDAVE.COM in case any of you have forgotten. ;-)
Everything we talked about reaffirmed beliefs I already value, values I already hold dear. It was as if a messenger had arrived to reassure me I'm on the right path. Sometimes, our angels put us into situations that challenge our values. Sometimes they fortify our beliefs against all challenges. Maybe 'angel' is not the right word...but someone or something invisible to me truly is watching over us. Protecting us, informing and guiding us, encouraging us. Call him/her/it what you will. But please don't scare away my angels. I'm truly grateful for their service to my family, especially as we prepare for our big adventure. Keep us safe, dear messengers. Please do keep us safe.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
The People You Meet
Since we started putting together this mobile adventure, we have met so many interesting people. First there was Renee. We bought The Drifter (aka The Driftah) from her. She lived on a sailboat a long time ago and decided we are just the kind of people who need to go sailing, too. We told her about our mobile adventure -- that The Drifter would be our home. If we could live in that, we could definitely go sailing, she said. Think about it. And I have...but that's another adventure for another time.
Renee was selling The Drifter -- and her business and most of her belongings -- so she could move on to the East Coast to be near her grandbaby. I think she had found another camper and planned to live and travel in it. Renee, if you are reading this, send me your mailing address. I found the poem!
Then we met Jen. She bought some land on the outskirts of town and decided to build a tiny home on it. And she has...all on her own. She found our listing for the RV stove/oven combo on craigslist and bought it. We ended up talking for a couple of hours about her tiny cabin, homesteading, alternative energy sources -- she shared so much fascinating and inspiring information. Her journey amazes me and I feel grateful we met. Looking forward to getting to know you better, Jen. I will continue to follow your story in awe.
Around the time we met Jen we had an estate sale. The renovation of The Drifter had already begun: the floor and about half the walls and ceiling were removed. We were enthusiastic about our plans and ready to purge some excess baggage. Almost every person was given a penny-tour of our beloved camper. Funny, not one person looked at us like we were crazy. Many of them had already taken a similar adventure, a few took their small children along. These random meetings remind me that because I have accepted my true self and commited to following my authentic path, I am being rewarded with new, like-minded friends.
One couple in particular blew my mind. They sold their acres-upon-acres of land in Montana and most of their possessions, and have been living in a motorhome for about eight years. Combined, they have eight kids (and some grandkids.) Some live on the west coast, some on the east coast, and at least one lives along the Texas Coast. They decided to "go mobile" because it is easier for them to travel to their kids and grandkids, than for them to visit the ranch in Montana. We talked to them for a very long time. They are the reason we are allocating plenty of space on the utility trailer for storing drinking water. Apparently, even with expensive filtration systems, there are potentially harmful sedimentary and oily substances found in too many of our nation's water sources. They advised us to drink only bottled water in clear plastic containers. Duly noted.
Rex came along the morning after David and I had stayed up almost all night crunching numbers. Replacing the floor, walls and ceiling would not cost much, we discovered. Really, the only expense of note would be the system to secure the camper onto the truck and new jacks. The Drifter really was designed to fit on small pickups, and we needed something specialized to retrofit our monster Ford F250 Super Duty to our beloved vintage camper. The camper only cost $375 and we would be reusing lumber from our backyard landscape projects. Plus, finishing the walls and celings would be a nominal expense (maybe $200???), so we were willing to invest the $1300 in the tie-downs and jacks. Of course, we would still need to buy a new fridge and a trailer to haul additional belongings totally necessary to taking our business on the road. Still, all of the add-ons should keep us under budget.
SHOULD.
I wrote about Rex in a previous post, so I will only mention that encounter here. In brief, David had called about a slide-in truck camper and never received a reply. Actually, he had called about a few campers. When Rex called, we were not really sure which listing was his, but after a little discussion and a look at his craigslist ad, we were eager to see it in person. This was the one we really wanted! That day we drove over to Rockport to have a look. Rex was asking $1,200 and for an additional $150 he included a 2100 watt generator and 5'x8' utility trailer. Jacks, too. The camper is in excellent condition, especially for a 1984 model. It has a fridge, a/c, furnace, and stove. Plenty of storage and sleeping quarters. Pops up, so when it's cranked down it can fit more places than the high-riding hard-sided Drifter could. And the best part of all, it fits our truck. No special tie-downs! Odd, isn't it, that the total price for Rex's wares is almost identical to what we were prepared to spend on just tie-downs and jacks?
Thrilled with our new home, we were ready to give it a name. It is a Valor model so we decided to call it El Valor, the Spanish article seemingly emphasizing the brave exploration nature of our adventure. There's something very quixotic about the name, as well as our journey. My cherished Don Quixote papier mache statue will be our mascot, and I've even considered painting windmills on the side of the camper. We will see about that...
But what would become of the Drifter?
We listed it on craigslist for $100 because we had not completed refurbishing it. The first guy to call about it was Shane. He knew immediately he wanted it and offered money to hold it until he could get out here to the island. When he arrived, with his fiancee and parents, there was something familiar about him. He looked around and said he would take it; he would be back in a few days with his friend's truck and trailer to pick "her" up. I kept wondering how I knew him, and then it hit me. It was his parents that were familiar to me...they are the couple from Montana we talked to during our estate sale! This young man has apparently inherited the gypsy gene.
Yesterday, Shane and his parents picked up The Drifter. I watched as they towed her away, down the street. Sad. But at least she went to someone who truly appreciates her and knows how to care for her. Shane and his fiancee plan to renovate the old girl and then give her a new home on their truck. They plan to travel with her when the time is right. Anybody could have given us a $100, but Shane and Cheri soothed my soul with their own dreams for the Drifter.
Although we have not yet hit the road with El Valor, our journey has already begun. We have been blessed with many new experiences and acquaintances. When we first began dreaming about our trip, I reconnected with an old acquaintance I had not seen in nearly 20 years. Really, she is my brother's friend from his days touring in bands. I read a comment she posted on facebook and instantly remembered her. A quick glance at her profile page, and I knew I had to contact her. She and her husband and their two young daughters sold or donated EVERYTHING and moved onto a sailboat. They live on it full-time in the Caribbean...We exchanged some private messages. I asked her about raising the girls on the boat -- how do they feel about this new journey? My concern was that I would be imposing my nomadic tendencies onto Sage. And what if this is not her calling? I guess I wanted to be sure I was not being selfish...my old acquaintance Stephanie reassured me that whether Sage chooses to live an "alternative" lifestyle does not matter. She will be able to learn about the world up-close and through her own experiences, not only by way of reading books. Stephanie told me her girls absolutely love living on the boat, that they can not imagine returning to their life in Texas. I finally had the confidence to commit to my authentic path. Thank you, Steph. You have no idea how much you helped me believe in my dream.
Perhaps Renee was right. Perhaps our mobile adventure will begin on land and continue on water. I don't know. But I'm fairly certain that we will meet plentiful people along the way. Old and new friends, always willing to share their knowledge and advice, will appear to offer that little bit of encouragement or helpful information that will enrich our journey.
Renee was selling The Drifter -- and her business and most of her belongings -- so she could move on to the East Coast to be near her grandbaby. I think she had found another camper and planned to live and travel in it. Renee, if you are reading this, send me your mailing address. I found the poem!
Then we met Jen. She bought some land on the outskirts of town and decided to build a tiny home on it. And she has...all on her own. She found our listing for the RV stove/oven combo on craigslist and bought it. We ended up talking for a couple of hours about her tiny cabin, homesteading, alternative energy sources -- she shared so much fascinating and inspiring information. Her journey amazes me and I feel grateful we met. Looking forward to getting to know you better, Jen. I will continue to follow your story in awe.
Around the time we met Jen we had an estate sale. The renovation of The Drifter had already begun: the floor and about half the walls and ceiling were removed. We were enthusiastic about our plans and ready to purge some excess baggage. Almost every person was given a penny-tour of our beloved camper. Funny, not one person looked at us like we were crazy. Many of them had already taken a similar adventure, a few took their small children along. These random meetings remind me that because I have accepted my true self and commited to following my authentic path, I am being rewarded with new, like-minded friends.
One couple in particular blew my mind. They sold their acres-upon-acres of land in Montana and most of their possessions, and have been living in a motorhome for about eight years. Combined, they have eight kids (and some grandkids.) Some live on the west coast, some on the east coast, and at least one lives along the Texas Coast. They decided to "go mobile" because it is easier for them to travel to their kids and grandkids, than for them to visit the ranch in Montana. We talked to them for a very long time. They are the reason we are allocating plenty of space on the utility trailer for storing drinking water. Apparently, even with expensive filtration systems, there are potentially harmful sedimentary and oily substances found in too many of our nation's water sources. They advised us to drink only bottled water in clear plastic containers. Duly noted.
Rex came along the morning after David and I had stayed up almost all night crunching numbers. Replacing the floor, walls and ceiling would not cost much, we discovered. Really, the only expense of note would be the system to secure the camper onto the truck and new jacks. The Drifter really was designed to fit on small pickups, and we needed something specialized to retrofit our monster Ford F250 Super Duty to our beloved vintage camper. The camper only cost $375 and we would be reusing lumber from our backyard landscape projects. Plus, finishing the walls and celings would be a nominal expense (maybe $200???), so we were willing to invest the $1300 in the tie-downs and jacks. Of course, we would still need to buy a new fridge and a trailer to haul additional belongings totally necessary to taking our business on the road. Still, all of the add-ons should keep us under budget.
SHOULD.
I wrote about Rex in a previous post, so I will only mention that encounter here. In brief, David had called about a slide-in truck camper and never received a reply. Actually, he had called about a few campers. When Rex called, we were not really sure which listing was his, but after a little discussion and a look at his craigslist ad, we were eager to see it in person. This was the one we really wanted! That day we drove over to Rockport to have a look. Rex was asking $1,200 and for an additional $150 he included a 2100 watt generator and 5'x8' utility trailer. Jacks, too. The camper is in excellent condition, especially for a 1984 model. It has a fridge, a/c, furnace, and stove. Plenty of storage and sleeping quarters. Pops up, so when it's cranked down it can fit more places than the high-riding hard-sided Drifter could. And the best part of all, it fits our truck. No special tie-downs! Odd, isn't it, that the total price for Rex's wares is almost identical to what we were prepared to spend on just tie-downs and jacks?
Thrilled with our new home, we were ready to give it a name. It is a Valor model so we decided to call it El Valor, the Spanish article seemingly emphasizing the brave exploration nature of our adventure. There's something very quixotic about the name, as well as our journey. My cherished Don Quixote papier mache statue will be our mascot, and I've even considered painting windmills on the side of the camper. We will see about that...
But what would become of the Drifter?
We listed it on craigslist for $100 because we had not completed refurbishing it. The first guy to call about it was Shane. He knew immediately he wanted it and offered money to hold it until he could get out here to the island. When he arrived, with his fiancee and parents, there was something familiar about him. He looked around and said he would take it; he would be back in a few days with his friend's truck and trailer to pick "her" up. I kept wondering how I knew him, and then it hit me. It was his parents that were familiar to me...they are the couple from Montana we talked to during our estate sale! This young man has apparently inherited the gypsy gene.
Yesterday, Shane and his parents picked up The Drifter. I watched as they towed her away, down the street. Sad. But at least she went to someone who truly appreciates her and knows how to care for her. Shane and his fiancee plan to renovate the old girl and then give her a new home on their truck. They plan to travel with her when the time is right. Anybody could have given us a $100, but Shane and Cheri soothed my soul with their own dreams for the Drifter.
Although we have not yet hit the road with El Valor, our journey has already begun. We have been blessed with many new experiences and acquaintances. When we first began dreaming about our trip, I reconnected with an old acquaintance I had not seen in nearly 20 years. Really, she is my brother's friend from his days touring in bands. I read a comment she posted on facebook and instantly remembered her. A quick glance at her profile page, and I knew I had to contact her. She and her husband and their two young daughters sold or donated EVERYTHING and moved onto a sailboat. They live on it full-time in the Caribbean...We exchanged some private messages. I asked her about raising the girls on the boat -- how do they feel about this new journey? My concern was that I would be imposing my nomadic tendencies onto Sage. And what if this is not her calling? I guess I wanted to be sure I was not being selfish...my old acquaintance Stephanie reassured me that whether Sage chooses to live an "alternative" lifestyle does not matter. She will be able to learn about the world up-close and through her own experiences, not only by way of reading books. Stephanie told me her girls absolutely love living on the boat, that they can not imagine returning to their life in Texas. I finally had the confidence to commit to my authentic path. Thank you, Steph. You have no idea how much you helped me believe in my dream.
Perhaps Renee was right. Perhaps our mobile adventure will begin on land and continue on water. I don't know. But I'm fairly certain that we will meet plentiful people along the way. Old and new friends, always willing to share their knowledge and advice, will appear to offer that little bit of encouragement or helpful information that will enrich our journey.
 |
| farewell, drifter |
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Bags of Rags and New Favorite Things
I've been packing clothes into El Valor. Some garments will not make the final cut for the adventure, I'm afraid. Every item, every accessory must be carefully chosen to suit various conditions, from yoga and running on the beach, to client meetings and speaking engagements. Each must work together with the other elements to reflect personal style. And everything must be of decent quality, clean and without tears or holes...except for my one designated "grubby outfit". Ha! As I hold up my favorite green hemp skirt, then my baby blue "Be the Change" organic tee, I realize I'm trying to justify that a) neither is suitable for exercise or work-related events; b) they do not work together at all, and c) both are worn nearly threadbare and have stains and a blemish here and there. They don't even qualify as finalists for my grubby outfit, because they are completely wrong for any labor-intensive project I might dream up. Really, I don't know why I'm holding onto them. Maybe it's just their symbolic meaning. Oh my gosh, am I really just holding onto them because they support my "green" values?
Looking around the house, I find a lot of things that I'm holding on to that serve an empty purpose. Those items could go to someone who could put them into service once again. Now that's "sustainable."
Over the past few months I have gradually pared down my wardrobe. Dramatic. Not traumatic, but noticeable. Getting rid of ill-fitting clothes was easy. Even brand-new or like-new treasures I simply did not like were donated without hesitation. The things I truly love, that have been worn so many times they are almost translucent...well...this is where I might get choked up. Maybe -- ha. If they are completely worn out, then they must have served me well. They must have been through a lot of experiences with me. Each represents a rite of passage, a moment in time where someone or some situation pushed me to the outer bands of my limitations physically, emotionally, spiritually or maybe intellectually. (Not to mention ECONOMICALLY. Most likely I could not afford it when I purchased it.) But I can't fill up my teeny wardrobe space with rags, no matter what significant life-moment they represent.
Imagine packing a suitcase with memories. When that one is filled, you open a new one. You still have to carry the old one, too. You keep unzipping, filling, zipping and lashing buckles on suitcases until one day your arms can't carry the load any longer. All of them, every last suitcase falls onto the floor. When a toddler drops a jar of jelly on Aisle 9, shards of glass and globs of icky-stickiness scatter. Your suitcases drop, and all the obsessive-compulsive, neat-stacking can not maintain order in your life. All the triumphs, disappointments, brief interludes with indifference -- every single memory that you have carried around in your mountain of luggage scatters on the floor for the world to see. And pick apart bit-by-bit. Or at least that is what we worry about secretly, isn't it? We hope nobody will ever know that thing we did or said. We go through life worrying too much about why we did such-and-such, and why we did NOT do that really smart thing that would surely have made our life better. (And, for the record, life would not be necessarily be better...or worse...just different.)
The truth is, when we stop guarding the moments of our life that shaped the person we are now, we lighten our mood as well as our load. Stop carrying around so much STUFF and let yourself live. Let your bags of rags fall to the floor.
More of my clothes will be retired. I will make room for a couple of links to the past but most of my wardrobe will remain empty. As our adventure begins, I will have plenty of room for new memories, new experiences. And new favorite things.
Looking around the house, I find a lot of things that I'm holding on to that serve an empty purpose. Those items could go to someone who could put them into service once again. Now that's "sustainable."
Over the past few months I have gradually pared down my wardrobe. Dramatic. Not traumatic, but noticeable. Getting rid of ill-fitting clothes was easy. Even brand-new or like-new treasures I simply did not like were donated without hesitation. The things I truly love, that have been worn so many times they are almost translucent...well...this is where I might get choked up. Maybe -- ha. If they are completely worn out, then they must have served me well. They must have been through a lot of experiences with me. Each represents a rite of passage, a moment in time where someone or some situation pushed me to the outer bands of my limitations physically, emotionally, spiritually or maybe intellectually. (Not to mention ECONOMICALLY. Most likely I could not afford it when I purchased it.) But I can't fill up my teeny wardrobe space with rags, no matter what significant life-moment they represent.
Imagine packing a suitcase with memories. When that one is filled, you open a new one. You still have to carry the old one, too. You keep unzipping, filling, zipping and lashing buckles on suitcases until one day your arms can't carry the load any longer. All of them, every last suitcase falls onto the floor. When a toddler drops a jar of jelly on Aisle 9, shards of glass and globs of icky-stickiness scatter. Your suitcases drop, and all the obsessive-compulsive, neat-stacking can not maintain order in your life. All the triumphs, disappointments, brief interludes with indifference -- every single memory that you have carried around in your mountain of luggage scatters on the floor for the world to see. And pick apart bit-by-bit. Or at least that is what we worry about secretly, isn't it? We hope nobody will ever know that thing we did or said. We go through life worrying too much about why we did such-and-such, and why we did NOT do that really smart thing that would surely have made our life better. (And, for the record, life would not be necessarily be better...or worse...just different.)
The truth is, when we stop guarding the moments of our life that shaped the person we are now, we lighten our mood as well as our load. Stop carrying around so much STUFF and let yourself live. Let your bags of rags fall to the floor.
More of my clothes will be retired. I will make room for a couple of links to the past but most of my wardrobe will remain empty. As our adventure begins, I will have plenty of room for new memories, new experiences. And new favorite things.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Thank you, readers
Yesterday's post was difficult to write because it pushed the boundaries of my comfort zone. It was not particularly personal, though it certainly felt that way. I'm glad I took the risk and posted it, though. I received numerous comments (and a couple phone calls) from friends and family who told me they "needed that message." As a writer, this means more to me than you all will ever know. As a person, I was touched by your willingness to share your own stories. You cried along with me.
Several times during the writing process I felt a little "icky" -- that's the simplest way I can describe it. I doubted my message and whether it was appropriate to post. In future posts, starting with today's -- ha -- I will strive to put myself back in that icky zone. That seems to be the stuff that resonates with people and fulfills me creatively.
Stay tuned...
Several times during the writing process I felt a little "icky" -- that's the simplest way I can describe it. I doubted my message and whether it was appropriate to post. In future posts, starting with today's -- ha -- I will strive to put myself back in that icky zone. That seems to be the stuff that resonates with people and fulfills me creatively.
Stay tuned...
Monday, August 2, 2010
Pennies from Heaven
When I was a senior in college, like many paying-my-own-way college students, I was poor. Broke, all the time. I worked the maximum allotted 19.75 hours per week as a student employee in the Honors Program office and another 20-25 hours per week at an accounting firm. Between the two, I barely earned enough to pay for rent, electricity and groceries. My weekly food bill could not exceed $5 -- can you even imagine that??? I ate Ramen, bananas, peanut butter and bread, and then had iceberg lettuce salads every day, twice a day. A woman I worked for in the Honors Program would bring in pesto and bagels once a week; I inhaled them. No wonder I lost a lot of weight that year...
That was a truly difficult year for me. The one hopeful thing that kept me moving forward, holding it together, was the promise of it all ending soon. All my energy flowed into my studies, one of my better decisions, ha ha ha. A lot of good things have come my way since college, and most can be traced back to lessons gleaned from that challenging year.
As I said, I was always broke. One day I was agonizing over something that cost money -- maybe it was rent or most likely FOOD -- and I had nothing. Whatever the expense, it was due before my next payday, and I wasn't sure how I would pay for it. Walking along, probably with my head down and crying (I did a lot of that that year), I found some money. Not very much, but just enough to tide me over. I can't remember if it was in a parking lot, along the street, somewhere on campus. That part is erased from my memory. But after that "discovery", it seemed that whenever I really needed money a little bit would fall at my feet, literally and symbolically. These pennies from heaven helped me through some of the most difficult days of my life. They gave me hope more than monetary fulfillment.
I promised myself then that I would never, ever take for granted small, unexpected gifts. To this day, I still look for AND PICK UP money in parking lots everywhere. Pennies, especially. (Ha!) Individually these coins might not have much value, but collectively they can buy a gallon of gas, a spiral notebook, an entire case of Ramen (j/k.) Today, I am not desperate like I was then. Today, I collect them for Sage. I collect them for a rainy day. But most of all I collect them because they represent tiny bits of happiness.
Yesterday I was feeling overwhelmed by all that needs to be done to prepare for our adventure. Much needs to be moved into storage, some things will be sold, and others will be donated to charitable organizations. We need to deep-clean and paint the house, tear down the backyard paradise we worked so hard to build...our fingerprint on this property must be wiped clean. El Valor is spotless but our everyday-life items must still be packed into it. The wiring and gas lines need to be checked out -- routine when you buy a used camper. The Driftah needs a home! All of this must be done in the next few weeks, while still entertaining and educating a very curious toddler and rebuilding our business. When do we squeeze in time for exercise? Ugh, that spinning feeling is coming back. Hold on a second.
In the midst of my dizzying thoughts, my little girl began dancing and shouting, "Ballet! Today! Ballet! Today!" Ironically, there was nothing graceful or elegant about her movements or chanting. She looked more like a marching soldier with ADD. But she was having fun, and her infectious laugh made me chuckle. I exhaled. My sweet husband hugged me. That seemed to squeeze out the stress...and I cried a little. My family had unintentionally reminded me of those lean days at the University; their well-timed gestures whispering that happiness does not always come in grand style. Worrying about the big picture (aka, preparations for our trip) will rob me of the pleasant moments -- a small child delighting in her own dance-play, a hug -- that subtly add up. Not very often do we win the lottery or inherit a windfall; usually it's the pennies we pick up off the pavement that make our fortune.
That was a truly difficult year for me. The one hopeful thing that kept me moving forward, holding it together, was the promise of it all ending soon. All my energy flowed into my studies, one of my better decisions, ha ha ha. A lot of good things have come my way since college, and most can be traced back to lessons gleaned from that challenging year.
As I said, I was always broke. One day I was agonizing over something that cost money -- maybe it was rent or most likely FOOD -- and I had nothing. Whatever the expense, it was due before my next payday, and I wasn't sure how I would pay for it. Walking along, probably with my head down and crying (I did a lot of that that year), I found some money. Not very much, but just enough to tide me over. I can't remember if it was in a parking lot, along the street, somewhere on campus. That part is erased from my memory. But after that "discovery", it seemed that whenever I really needed money a little bit would fall at my feet, literally and symbolically. These pennies from heaven helped me through some of the most difficult days of my life. They gave me hope more than monetary fulfillment.
I promised myself then that I would never, ever take for granted small, unexpected gifts. To this day, I still look for AND PICK UP money in parking lots everywhere. Pennies, especially. (Ha!) Individually these coins might not have much value, but collectively they can buy a gallon of gas, a spiral notebook, an entire case of Ramen (j/k.) Today, I am not desperate like I was then. Today, I collect them for Sage. I collect them for a rainy day. But most of all I collect them because they represent tiny bits of happiness.
Yesterday I was feeling overwhelmed by all that needs to be done to prepare for our adventure. Much needs to be moved into storage, some things will be sold, and others will be donated to charitable organizations. We need to deep-clean and paint the house, tear down the backyard paradise we worked so hard to build...our fingerprint on this property must be wiped clean. El Valor is spotless but our everyday-life items must still be packed into it. The wiring and gas lines need to be checked out -- routine when you buy a used camper. The Driftah needs a home! All of this must be done in the next few weeks, while still entertaining and educating a very curious toddler and rebuilding our business. When do we squeeze in time for exercise? Ugh, that spinning feeling is coming back. Hold on a second.
In the midst of my dizzying thoughts, my little girl began dancing and shouting, "Ballet! Today! Ballet! Today!" Ironically, there was nothing graceful or elegant about her movements or chanting. She looked more like a marching soldier with ADD. But she was having fun, and her infectious laugh made me chuckle. I exhaled. My sweet husband hugged me. That seemed to squeeze out the stress...and I cried a little. My family had unintentionally reminded me of those lean days at the University; their well-timed gestures whispering that happiness does not always come in grand style. Worrying about the big picture (aka, preparations for our trip) will rob me of the pleasant moments -- a small child delighting in her own dance-play, a hug -- that subtly add up. Not very often do we win the lottery or inherit a windfall; usually it's the pennies we pick up off the pavement that make our fortune.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Dreams, virtues and safe travels
All was quiet until the phone rang. It was my friend Denise and she was giddy about buying a new car. Not just any car, her DREAM CAR. She has been looking for this exact make and model, with these exact options, and in this color and price range, for a very long time. Finally she found it...in another state. So yesterday morning she flew from Dallas to pick up her Dream Car. Today, she's taking her home. Congratulations, my sweet friend. You have worked so very hard for this. It is only the beginning of many more dreams to come true. I love you!
This morning I was up early: made coffee, puttered around on my 'puter, and looked up a new recipe or two. Then I sat down to sip my coffee while I pondered the day, imagined how it might unfold. El Valor is getting a good cleaning today. We will also take inventory of what stays, what goes and what else we need. Denise offered to recover the cushions for us, and I just might take her up on the offer. Or maybe we can do it together? I told her when she called that I will let her know tomorrow. She needs to pay attention while she's driving, ha ha ha.
Signal faded so I didn't get to say 'goodbye' to her. The conversation felt incomplete, so I played it out in my imagination. Before I imagined saying goodbye I told her how happy I am for her. I'm thrilled for myself, too, about our new adventure. Almost synchronized, Denise and I are realizing dreams; it's wonderfully fulfilling to observe a loved one's successes and be able to share your own. Too often we are lectured that to be modest is to be virtuous. We are made to feel that we should "tone down" our confidence, our enthusiasm, our joy. I disagree completely. Instead, we should share these positive qualities -- traits I would consider true virtues -- with others, especially those who do not possess them. Misery loves company, it's true, but happiness adores a crowd. Miserable people try to put you down so that they will feel better about themselves. Happy people, however, try to pump you up so you will feel better about you. Good stuff is far more infectious; spread it around liberally. I "told" her all of these things.
My friend is literally and symbolically "in the driver's seat" now. Her voice sounds...I don't know, bubbly? Effervescent? Congratulations, D. Safe travels...I think I'll have some, myself.
This morning I was up early: made coffee, puttered around on my 'puter, and looked up a new recipe or two. Then I sat down to sip my coffee while I pondered the day, imagined how it might unfold. El Valor is getting a good cleaning today. We will also take inventory of what stays, what goes and what else we need. Denise offered to recover the cushions for us, and I just might take her up on the offer. Or maybe we can do it together? I told her when she called that I will let her know tomorrow. She needs to pay attention while she's driving, ha ha ha.
Signal faded so I didn't get to say 'goodbye' to her. The conversation felt incomplete, so I played it out in my imagination. Before I imagined saying goodbye I told her how happy I am for her. I'm thrilled for myself, too, about our new adventure. Almost synchronized, Denise and I are realizing dreams; it's wonderfully fulfilling to observe a loved one's successes and be able to share your own. Too often we are lectured that to be modest is to be virtuous. We are made to feel that we should "tone down" our confidence, our enthusiasm, our joy. I disagree completely. Instead, we should share these positive qualities -- traits I would consider true virtues -- with others, especially those who do not possess them. Misery loves company, it's true, but happiness adores a crowd. Miserable people try to put you down so that they will feel better about themselves. Happy people, however, try to pump you up so you will feel better about you. Good stuff is far more infectious; spread it around liberally. I "told" her all of these things.
My friend is literally and symbolically "in the driver's seat" now. Her voice sounds...I don't know, bubbly? Effervescent? Congratulations, D. Safe travels...I think I'll have some, myself.
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