The List That Never Ends

This is the list that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends...

There is a companion page to this list. It grows once or twice an hour. When I woke up this morning I got to add: Fix the hole in the roof.

Which I am off to do now.

Follow Me

Good morning! I slept in the RV last night and woke up actually feeling sort of spy (after a few cups of coffee and a hazy phone call or two). Before dragging all my stuff in I took a handful of pictures to share. They aren’t the best; in fact they sort of suck… I took them with my phone and didn’t do anything but resize and sharpen them this morning.

On to the tour! Oh, and by the way, investigation this morning led to the 

revelation that my new home on wheels is a 1979 Chevrolet Sportschoach 2700.

See the interior after the jump.

Here we go!

The phone just rang, my Step-dad is on his way in with the motorhome... The Park owner knows I'm on my way... I'm packing up my motel room, and getting ready to boogie on home. Butterflies galore!

Motorhome sweet motorhome

The above image is an approximate rendering of the layout of my soon to be home. As each day goes by I get more and more excited. Yesterday I drove out to my Mom's and took a "tour". Before yesterday, I had only been in the motorhome once or twice and had visualized it to be much larger. When my Step-dad offered it as an alternative to the motel I am currently living in I was filled with excitement and ideas. The tour was a quick introduction to the reality of the situation.

It's going to be snug, very very snug. The vehicle itself is old, it hankers back to the 1970s in design... the overwhelming use of brown and laminate is going to take some getting used to. There are some soft spots in the floor, and the lack of plugs has me wondering how the heck I am going to charge my laptop. There were upsides though, the fridge is larger than I expected, the sink has two sides, and the curtains and screens on the windows are all in good condition.

Sometimes I close my eyes and fantasize that this is going to be a long term project I fall in love with. That I will cherish the independence it allows me, and come to enjoy the simplicity such small quarters forces upon me. Other times I pray for nothing more than the next few months to pass speedily. In the best case scenario living in The Park will allow me to save money while paying off debt. Come summer it should grant me freedom to roam and enjoy the beautiful scenery of the Oregon Coast.

It could be long term, it could only be for a few months. In the meantime I am making lists galore... what do I need? What do I already have? What do I want to fix? What do I want to experience? What goals do I need to focus on? I truly hope this adventure, however long it lasts allows me a chance to grow, learn, and enjoy life.

There is a petting zoo in The Park, surrounding woods, and plenty of room for my nephew to play on the days I whisk him away. The small church down the road might be a good place to explore the remnants of my relationship with God, and the short but scenic drive to work will give me plenty of time to think. 

New Traditions

When my Dad passed away in 2006, I knew nothing would ever be the same. A vital part of my heritage was gone in a blink of an eye. The first years worth of holidays were nothing more than reminders of everything missing in my life. I struggled through them, along with my Mom and sister. We smiled, laughed, cried, and forged ahead. To say it has become easier, would be a lie. It's not easier, even after all this time... it's just different.

We've learned to be, without him. We have welcomed new people into our lives, including my Step-dad and brother in law. Each of them brought families of their own into the mix. Their own history and tradition... their own struggle and pain. Three Thanksgivings ago we celebrated with my handsome nephew, and this year my niece joined us at the table.

There is so much to be thankful for in my life. I don't know if my relationship with my Mom and sister would be so solid, if it weren't for the three of us banding together after Dad died. Who is to say my sister would have still meet her husband and had her two beautiful babies? As much as I miss his physical presence in our daily lives, I am thankful for the legacy he has left behind.

He wasn't a traditional man. He lived his life according to a deeply personal code of conduct that revolved around his relationship with God. We moved frequently as children, and often times celebrated the holidays at home, just the four of us. He taught us to cherish what existed in near proximity, to not get caught up in the commercial trappings of the holidays... and that sometimes, nachos and pizza for Christmas dinner is OK.

These things have carried on with us in the past 5 years. For Thanksgiving we celebrated with flat iron steak, french fries, and a fruit platter among other more traditional dishes. After eating we took pictures in the leaf covered yard, and then left the kids with Grandma to go start a new tradition.

My Step-dad drove us up into the hills, and we learned to shoot a 22. Neither my sister or I had ever shot a gun of any sort. Our Dad was a quiet, indoor sort of man whose love of books prevailed over all other pursuits of passions. My Ste-dad on the other hand is a more of an outdoors type.

How blessed are we to have been able to learn from two such wonderful men? I can tell you, squeezing the trigger of a gun was something I had never expected to do. Ever. I did, though. I even enjoyed it. Next year we will do the same thing...

The Park

I drove out to the Park tonight after work to talk to the Owner about parking there for a few months. Originally I had planned to go to a park further out of town that was nicer, and more expensive, but after talking to a coworker today I decided to check The Park out.

By the time I got there it was pitch dark, and nothing to see. Working 12 hour shifts is exhausting enough to make it very easy to get lost. When I arrived at The Park, the Owner was standing outside waving a flashlight so I wouldn't miss it. He herded me inside and sliced up a delicious homemade apple pie and warmed up my tea. He refused to talk business until I was warm and fed. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for me all day. I'd drove almost an hour past the park in the wind, rain, and dark and was on empty when I finally stopped the engine. The pie was fantastic, and so was the company.

I harbored so many preconceived notions regarding motor home parks, and people who live in them. This man's house was spotless, warm, and taken care of. What I could see of The Park was beautiful and. Surrounded by woods, I could picture myself out there on a clear morning drinking coffee and enjoying the brisk breeze coming up from the water. I'm going to take the spot.

The motor-home I have is old, and I can't wait to start fixing it up and documenting the process here.

Bloggity

I am Rachel, and this is my blog.