Countdown to Adventure

After all these months here in Grants Pass, it almost seems unreal that we are leaving next week. I have a huge pile of stuff to leave with the church for their rummage sale next month, and I eBayed a couple things I thought I'd use but haven't. I mean, really, when you've been hauling something around a year and a half and haven't used it, it's time to admit you're not going to. The items sold in the first day and I have a hundred more dollars!

(MAJOR exception: emergency and first aid stuff. Pray you carry it around for years without using it!)

There are quite a few little things to do, inside and outside the rig, and just little life details. One thing we did during our stay here was subscribe to the local paper. It has really helped us understand the community we are temporarily part of, and has been invaluable in finding things to do, especially the free or low cost activities that aren't really marketed to tourists. We called this morning to order a stop at the end of the month, and that helped our imminent departure seem real.

A Painting Day

We are continuing to get ready for our departure in approximately three weeks. More sorting, a bigger pile for the thrift store. But it's not all work. Jan has been going out gold panning every couple days, and every morning I spend time on my online writing course. This afternoon I painted. Yesterday I bought 4 nice looking but inexpensive frames at Fred Meyer, so before I began my afternoon's painting, I took a few minutes to put my four best paintings in the new frames. They really brightened up the trailer, and I can't wait to get them hung on the wall.

Now, before anyone gets all excited, these are lesson project paintings. The composition and basic design are given to me in the book I am using. I transfer the outline to watercolor paper and then paint it. My book gives me step by step instruction. Even so, it has been a challenge to learn to handle the paint, and I have a few paintings I wouldn't want to show anybody. They're turning out well more often than not, nowadays, though. The idea is that I learn techniques by doing these project paintings, and then start applying what I have learned to my own compositions. I have quite a few scenes stored away in my photo files, waiting until I feel confident enough to try to paint them. Maybe someday I'll even have the confidence to just set up an easel outdoors, "plein aire."

Some Hard Choices

I don't know if I've said so on this blog, but I know I've remarked to people that full-time RV living offers a real opportunity for a person to sort out just what is important to them. It's almost like you're on sabbatical, away from the habits of your old life, away from your old obligations, forced to make choices instead of just treading your comfortable, well-worn rut. You have to make decisions about how you'll use your time. Your space is limited, so you have to be discriminating about what things you have. You'll have to discover how to interact with all the people you'll meet.  If you're like most of us, there are money challenges, too. Unless you're a lot wealthier than we are, you simply can't live each day as if you're on a vacation, but you don't want to miss out on what you traveled so far to see.

As I mentioned yesterday, it's time for spring cleaning as we get the trailer ready to roll again. I started with the bedroom, at the front of the rig. Emptied all the cupboards, cleaned, washed the bedding while I was at it. It's important to check every nook and cranny fairly often, as you'll sometimes find little places where a little moisture has built up, and then you know to watch that spot. This time, I learned that I need to occasionally wipe out the place where the nightstand top meets the walls, way back in the corner. When I find a spot like that, I give it a little spray of Lysol to kill any little bits of mold that might have formed.

The most time-consuming part of the day was sorting out the mess that had accumulated in the underbed storage area. We had developed the habit of just lifting the bed far enough to chuck things in, I'm ashamed to admit.

I piled everything in the main room and began sorting and replacing. I found I was agonizing over my two good-sized baskets of fabric. We've been in the trailer 17 months and I don't remember making anything with any of this fabric. I wanted to. I could.  I even brought some patterns. I have a sewing machine, specially picked out for this RV life, and which I use for curtains, mending, and so on. I set some of the material aside for the thrift shop. Put it back in the baskets. Repeated. Agonized. Then told myself I would sew all sorts cute things, and repacked everything under the bed. And it looked really nice, with a big empty spot (because I'd organized, not because I'd removed much).

Some of what you see will be off-loaded at some point. The baritone ukulele? Love it, but I upgraded to a 3/4 size classical guitar I found at the thrift store. One of my grandchildren will be getting the uke. The pretty quilt? That's from the house. It has matching pillow shams. It looked beautiful on the bed, until our big white poodle jumped up on the bed with dirty feet. Over and over. So I would wash it. Over and over. It wasn't good for the quilt; for a long time I tried to protect the quilt, and then I accepted the truth; my dog wasn't going to stop napping on the bed. So, that quilt will find a new home; I think my daughter can use it. I replaced it with this blanket, found on clearance. It's much easier to keep looking nice.

I'd way rather give up the quilt than Tasha, the poodle.

After I thought I was done, I realized I hadn't been honest with myself. I'll tell you something I've mostly kept to myself, until lately. All my life I've wanted to be a writer but haven't done much about it. In January I started an online writing class, and I've been working on some story ideas; I want to really give it an honest effort, and this RV journey of ours is an ideal time to do it, IF I don't dribble away all my time. Here I get into choices again. Writing takes time. I have to make some careful choices about how I use my time, or the writing won't happen. A day or two ago I saw a plaque with this message:

You can do anything.

You can't do everything.

I thought about the baskets of fabric, and I thought about the message. I have many interests, and there is not enough time to do all of them justice. I've always tried to do everything, at once, as if I were Superwoman, and it has never worked, so I suspect it won't in the future, either.  If the writing is really important to me, I have to make it a priority.  I practice music most days and am not willing to give that up; I've been a musician most of my life. I have been learning watercolor painting, also a lifelong dream. And I enjoy knitting. There are other interests, too, but I am setting them aside, deliberately. Those two baskets of fabric are taking up room in my life, and in the trailer.

So I choose:

• Most importantly, I want to be a writer. Every day, I will write.
• I am a musician, and most days I practice for about an hour.
• Painting pictures fulfills a dream and helps me really see the world, really look at it.  I think it will support my writing, but I will only paint if I have kept up with my writing.
• Knitting is meditative and a wonderful way to make special gifts. Last Christmas we made all our gifts. Knitting can be set aside when time is tight, and I will limit myself to small projects that only require a skein or two, perfect for keeping up with my gift list.

The two baskets of fabric seem to have become a metaphor, haven't they?

A Month From Today

We just paid the rent for one last month at the park here in Grants Pass, Oregon, where we've spent the winter. A month from today, we'll be traveling again. The thought stirs up mixed feelings.

We've enjoyed our time here, and we've made some friends we'd like to see again in the not-too-distant future.  We've enjoyed the mild climate that Grants Pass is known for; there's even a big sign that, since 1920, has arched over the main drag proclaiming, "It's the Climate." We'll miss this friendly, caring community that has faced some sobering challenges in recent years. We'll miss the church that has taken us in as if we were visiting relatives (which is as it should be). Jan hasn't been able to do all the gold panning he would like to here, and there is some sightseeing that really is better appreciated in warm weather, so we're planning on swinging through here again, probably in late summer.

And, we're excited to be venturing out again, seeing new places, living the adventure. We've been here much longer than we planned to be.

Only a month? There is so much to do. When you stay in one spot for a long time, there is a tendency to relax into a comfortable routine. Things accumulate. Things...slide a little. We're not travel ready any more. The rig needs a good spring cleaning, and there's maintenance to do if we want to minimize the chance of problems further down the road. There's much to do.