I started this post at 3am after waking up at 1:30 . . . anticipating, thinking, & strategizing our last full day in the house before leaving forever. We survived the auction of ‘big’ stuff, Jeff’s daughter is having a yard sale of all our stuff this holiday weekend, we’ve carried off items to animal adoption shelters, the library, magazine, glass, & plastic recycling, deposited some furniture & mementos at a friend’s house, weeded out some more clothes to get rid of, & finally started to pack what’s left (which is still too much). I’ve discovered tons & tons of pictures I’ve taken thru the decades & started scanning them into my computer, but I have a large box to go thru still at a later time. I discovered lots of elementary & high schools pictures of classmates that I want to scan into a slideshow for our high school reunion this summer.
I read a blog that mentioned the discipline required to live small & mobile, & I’m looking forward to getting organized enough to be able to live that ‘disciplined’ life. We can’t imagine that any work at a campground could possibly be more difficult than the previous month of actual manual labor has been! And the rain, rain, & more rain — plus the storm & tornado warnings — haven’t helped at all. At least we still have a house to leave unlike the folks in Joplin. I’ve wondered about some friends from years ago who lived there.
I’m still waiting for some feeling of loss & regret about leaving the house I designed 25 years ago. I realized finally that I initially wanted & needed to live in the country in my own house to be able to get away from city life, noise, people, & traffic, & to be able to make whatever changes I wanted to the property. My home has been my quiet sanctuary to relax & unwind. Well, all that changed when I no longer had a job with co-workers, tasks, & irritations to contend with, so solitude & remoteness have felt more like a prison for the past couple of years, with many responsibilities attached to it. Is there such a thing as stressful boredom? And there has always been that reluctance to return home after being gone with the Casita. Now, we can still have our own place, without the land-ownership problems, & be able to periodically change both our backyard & our weather. I’m beginning to think of our trailer as a very large suitcase tho.
Sometimes I wonder about what we’re not considering. Will I get homesick? Will we experience culture shock? Will be feel lonesome? During my Navy days, I spent way too much time in places I didn’t like. However, Uncle Sam wouldn’t allow me to leave when I wanted, but full time RVing won’t have quite those restrictions. Might we feel stressed or crowded? Being around lots of people for too long really wears me out. I feel other people’s energy & try to match it but it drains my ‘battery’ quickly. Growing up on a farm in the country, I learned to value my ‘alone’ time. I’ve met many people who have no concept of how to entertain themselves without other people around them. Kind of sad really.
I refuse to look at any situation as a glass half empty. Instead, I just like to imagine a smaller glass so that it at least appears considerably more than half full! In 30 hrs or so, our new lifestyle will start — no going back now. I’m still excited and full of anticipation but trying to stay realistic. We aren’t changing, just the roof over our heads & the view out our windows, & hopefully acquiring some good habits (like more activity & less pack-ratting). I know we’ll have the same problems & issues on the road as at a S&B location, but. . .
(Written 5/28/11, but not posted until 6/3/11)