For six weeks after The Crash, we squatted with family in their new home. Unless you have experienced an event that completely wipes out your home, vehicle, office and most of your personal belongings, you probably cannot comprehend all that we dealt with those first six weeks. Most of the damaged items were just stuff to me -- things to which I had no real emotional ties. In fact, I only lamented the loss of Sage's BOB stroller and the trailer. Fortunately we were able to salvage the trailer, at least. Sentimental piece.
But the rest of the stuff didn't bother me. Losing the truck and El Valor were not that stressful, really, except that we found ourselves without a vehicle and home and no time to replace them. Most of the time we maintained a positive attitude and counted our blessings that nobody was hurt nor was our livelihood destroyed. Still, there were days when we were uncertain about our future. Not just as a mobile family and business, but a family in general. There were times we considered ending our odyssey and renting a place temporarily while we reconfigured our life. We shopped online for truck and camper combos, then motorhomes, then vans. Nothing within our budget seemed to improve upon our previous rig. Eventually we decided to take our old beach truck out of storage and rebuild the tattered trailer. These would hold us over until summer. Well, summer is here, and still we have no time to upgrade our rig. Upgrade is now officially tabled until fall, or winter. Or perhaps indefinitely! At the moment it doesn't seem as important.
When the trailer was finally ready to roll we moved it to Cedar Hill State Park. After six weeks there, we feel part of the park family. New friends. Duck Pond hiking tour. Full moon tour of the Penn family farm. Hiking to the remnant prairie to shoot perennials and grasses dancing in the setting sun. Innumerable sightings of Eastern Bluebird, Painted Bunting and an array of butterfly species. Treacherous storms. Rain, rain; mud everywhere and inside everything. Sunsets that remind us we are alive! Nature reminding us why we do what we do. Yes, our six-week camping trip healed our hearts after our catastrophic moment.
Looking back over the past three months, I feel proud. Despite losing nearly everything, despite scary moments worrying about my dad's health, my computer crashing, more truck problems, changes to business, and downsizing our home, again; we managed to survive. Maybe not at first, but with each setback we found opportunities to streamline or otherwise improve our lifestyle or livelihood. To be sure, these three months took an emotional toll on all of us. Sage ramped up the tantrums (because she is three AND picking up on our soaring stress levels.) David and I couldn't be in the same room without erupting into an argument. I called my mom on more than one occasion just to cry and have somebody reassure me that everything would be just fine. Oh, and these are just the highlights. Ha ha ha. While in the throes of this life-changing event, I could not speak or write about my feelings. Too heavy. Now, though, I am able to put the pain in its proper place...in the past. I've moved on...we all have.
So, moving on...we left Cedar Hill to stay with family again. This time, to express our gratitude, to give more than thanks. This time, we are working hard to landscape their backyard that was a gigantic blank slate. Bermuda turf has been eliminated and replaced with sweeping, curvaceous beds brimming with perennials, such as Beebalm, Four Nerve Daisy, Blackfoot Daisy, Purple Skullcap, Snake Herb, and Mealy Cup Sage; Gamagrass, Indiangrass and Buffalograss turf; and trees, such as Cedar Elm, Possumhaw, Mexican Plum, and Roughleaf Dogwood. And more. No matter the heat, and the fact that I haven't installed a landscape in many years: this project is fun and truly rewarding. When it is finished, we will leave once again. Time to continue our journey...
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
A Real Mutha
Let me start with an apology to anybody who might have read my post written some time ago about becoming a better mother because of this mobile odyssey. In that gem, I muse about the importance of patience with our children, of not raising our voices or spanking them except as a last-result. I wave my self-congratulatory flag to celebrate my super-parental ability to rationalize with my daughter's young, irrational mind. Puffed up with my own achievements, I might have come off a bit preachy.
Well, if I made you feel that way, I apologize. And here is your moment to feel OK as a parent again.
I have screamed not just yelled at my daughter in the months following our lovely accident.
I have sent her to time out.
I have spanked her.
I have nearly pulled out all my hair in total frustration over these TEMPER TANTRUMS.
I have fantasized about ear plugs and cocktails to drown out the noise.
And today...I had to carry my kicking-punching-screaming darling daughter away from a neighbor's house, the entire family staring at me in horror. The neighbors had come over to invite us to come tomorrow for a playdate and their little girl led Sage inside to see some of her toys. A preview of the goods, if you will. The parents and I followed the girls inside. They were just about to start dinner so I asked her to come with me now and we would see them tomorrow. NO, she screamed. I pleaded with her, I asked politely. NO NO NO, I told you, I will come IN A MINUTE. Embarrassed glances at the other Mommy, then the Daddy. A nervous smile. Sage, come on, honey. Let's go home now so WE can have dinner and then go to that surprise fun place we were talking about earlier. NOOOOOOOO. OK, then. I will count to 3 and THEN we need to go. One, two, three...NOOOOOOO. A lot of screaming ensued. A lot of kicking-punching-screaming...and humiliation. The other little girl even looked at me like, "Awesome job, lady!"
The truth is, she's 3. Three-year-olds throw temper-tantrums. Heavy on the TEMPER, apparently. She needs to be allowed to express her feelings...in a healthy and appropriate way. She can't know HOW to do that, at 3. But she's going to learn. Today.
At the moment, she is sitting in the guest room in Time Out and I'm trying to figure out the best way to deal with this. I want to go up and hug her and tell her I love her. Or scream and yell that THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN, IS THAT CLEAR!!!! Maybe I leave her up there for the rest of the night. I don't know! I do NOT want to be too hard on her but I absolutely do NOT want her to grow up to be a mess of a person. I want her to behave properly, be respectful of others (including me!) Feel good about herself but not at the expense of others. To be sweet, smart, silly and strong, like I've always taught her. I'm not perfect, I'm a parent (just like the Parents Connect commercials on Nick Jr.!) I guess I'm a real mother: simultaneously loving and screwing up my child every day. One second, so sure I know what I'm doing, the next feeling like a gigantic failure. Laughing through tears...and beers, perhaps?
Well, if I made you feel that way, I apologize. And here is your moment to feel OK as a parent again.
I have screamed not just yelled at my daughter in the months following our lovely accident.
I have sent her to time out.
I have spanked her.
I have nearly pulled out all my hair in total frustration over these TEMPER TANTRUMS.
I have fantasized about ear plugs and cocktails to drown out the noise.
And today...I had to carry my kicking-punching-screaming darling daughter away from a neighbor's house, the entire family staring at me in horror. The neighbors had come over to invite us to come tomorrow for a playdate and their little girl led Sage inside to see some of her toys. A preview of the goods, if you will. The parents and I followed the girls inside. They were just about to start dinner so I asked her to come with me now and we would see them tomorrow. NO, she screamed. I pleaded with her, I asked politely. NO NO NO, I told you, I will come IN A MINUTE. Embarrassed glances at the other Mommy, then the Daddy. A nervous smile. Sage, come on, honey. Let's go home now so WE can have dinner and then go to that surprise fun place we were talking about earlier. NOOOOOOOO. OK, then. I will count to 3 and THEN we need to go. One, two, three...NOOOOOOO. A lot of screaming ensued. A lot of kicking-punching-screaming...and humiliation. The other little girl even looked at me like, "Awesome job, lady!"
The truth is, she's 3. Three-year-olds throw temper-tantrums. Heavy on the TEMPER, apparently. She needs to be allowed to express her feelings...in a healthy and appropriate way. She can't know HOW to do that, at 3. But she's going to learn. Today.
At the moment, she is sitting in the guest room in Time Out and I'm trying to figure out the best way to deal with this. I want to go up and hug her and tell her I love her. Or scream and yell that THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN, IS THAT CLEAR!!!! Maybe I leave her up there for the rest of the night. I don't know! I do NOT want to be too hard on her but I absolutely do NOT want her to grow up to be a mess of a person. I want her to behave properly, be respectful of others (including me!) Feel good about herself but not at the expense of others. To be sweet, smart, silly and strong, like I've always taught her. I'm not perfect, I'm a parent (just like the Parents Connect commercials on Nick Jr.!) I guess I'm a real mother: simultaneously loving and screwing up my child every day. One second, so sure I know what I'm doing, the next feeling like a gigantic failure. Laughing through tears...and beers, perhaps?
What's in a name?
I started this blog to document our adventures along this mobile odyssey. I named it "4x4elvalor" because a) it rhymes and might be easy to remember and b) our vehicle-of-choice could take us to remote places (hence the "4x4" part) and with bravery (umm, yes. That's where "el valor" comes in.) Sadly, neither the 4-wheel-drive diesel truck we thought was (almost) invincible nor the slide-in truck camper, aka El Valor, survived our frightening crash in Austin this past March. Our trailer -- that rolled and looked the worst post-accident -- actually was salvageable and has become our tiny-home-on-wheels. Digressing here...surprising, eh? (Insert sounds of dripping sarcasm.)
Our blog no longer represents our current means of living.working.traveling together. It is now a tribute to our fallen friends, Daisy the Diesel 4x4 and El Valor the camper. Our odyssey will continue, and our story will remain here, under 4x4elvalor, despite losing this blog's namesake.
Besides, where's the sexiness in a blog dubbed "truckwagon" or, simply, "trailer"? Or any of the other names we have attempted to bestow on our beloved tiny home? A rose is a rose is a rose...
Our blog no longer represents our current means of living.working.traveling together. It is now a tribute to our fallen friends, Daisy the Diesel 4x4 and El Valor the camper. Our odyssey will continue, and our story will remain here, under 4x4elvalor, despite losing this blog's namesake.
Besides, where's the sexiness in a blog dubbed "truckwagon" or, simply, "trailer"? Or any of the other names we have attempted to bestow on our beloved tiny home? A rose is a rose is a rose...
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Write for me
Lately I've been unable to write. I'm still inspired and I still have so much to share about our mobile odyssey. But my time has been splintered into a thousand directions. Filling out forms for the insurance companies, researching costs to replace my "lost personal property", uploading pics of my broken stuff, responding to new client inquiries, managing the business while David is in Rockport, sorting and cleaning our salvaged belongings. And all my normal activities, like feeding, bathing, playing with and celebrating life with Sage. I have not had the time to devote to writing.
On top of the time issue, I have been holding back a lot. Keeping more of my thoughts to myself. I'm not sure why but I think it's because I sense that I've lost my audience. My posts are not interesting enough because I'm holding back, or maybe I'm holding back because I think I've lost my audience? I don't know.
Really, it doesn't matter if anyone is reading this. I mean, I would like to think that millions of screaming fans wait by their computers to knock back whatever word-concoction I've blended up today. Come on. We both know my blender's broken, and the only drink I'm serving up lately is tepid water. Maybe that's how it should be. Maybe this forum is just a place where I write for me, where I jack around with concepts. The real writing -- the spicy, smoking hot stuff -- will be in print...for sale...and for an extra 5 bucks I'll even sign it for you. Sounds about right to me. ;-)
On top of the time issue, I have been holding back a lot. Keeping more of my thoughts to myself. I'm not sure why but I think it's because I sense that I've lost my audience. My posts are not interesting enough because I'm holding back, or maybe I'm holding back because I think I've lost my audience? I don't know.
Really, it doesn't matter if anyone is reading this. I mean, I would like to think that millions of screaming fans wait by their computers to knock back whatever word-concoction I've blended up today. Come on. We both know my blender's broken, and the only drink I'm serving up lately is tepid water. Maybe that's how it should be. Maybe this forum is just a place where I write for me, where I jack around with concepts. The real writing -- the spicy, smoking hot stuff -- will be in print...for sale...and for an extra 5 bucks I'll even sign it for you. Sounds about right to me. ;-)
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Two weeks; change in an instant
I have no idea how long it's been since I last posted. Probably only a couple of weeks, but a lot has happened in that time. Feels much longer. Feels different now.
Two weeks ago we were preparing for the biggest spring on record. Two weeks ago, we were transitioning from a heavenly week on the beach, camping with new friends made during our Florida adventure. Two weeks ago, we had finally purged most of the unessentials. Everything changed two weeks ago, though, on our commute to Dallas.
We left Lockhart early that Saturday morning after an early barbecue nosh at Smitty's. By 10am we would be at Joss Growers in Georgetown photographing plants for our Rockport project. As we approached the entrance ramp onto 130 tollway on the eastside of Austin, a woman travelling east on Maha Loop Road failed to stop at her stop sign. She broadsided us. Rear axle and driveshaft shot from the undercarriage of Daisy (our white F250) and landed in the field. We began to skid...the trailer started to roll...we went up on two wheels...and were being dragged into a culvert. The trailer popped off and the truck tipped to land upright, halfway into the ditch alongside the feeder road to 130 tollway. Nobody appeared to be injured.
The other driver's vehicle was totalled but, thankfully, she was fine. Shaken up, apologetic, sure. But uninjured. Our truck was inoperable but the camper appeared to be ok. When I looked back at the trailer...oh my...I thought it must be in a thousand pieces. Debris littered the roadside. I climbed out of the truck to take a closer look. When the trailer rolled, the rear doors shattered, and everything inside and that was stored on top, sprayed the tall-grass field. It took a couple of hours, but we found even the tiniest of Barbie shoes and attachments to the socket wrench. Most likely, we found all of our belongings. I haven't noticed anything missing...yet. Most of our things were destroyed: BOB stroller, Sage's bicycle trailer, Mr. Heater Big Buddy propane heater, rooftop cargo storage, and so much more. Oddly, Sage's toys seem to be intact but covered in mud and grass. I think I can salvage most of them. Even her dress-up clothes, dragged across the pavement and tossed into the muddy field, might be cleaned up. We'll find out today when I start going through more of our salvaged items.
The next day, we took a rented Uhaul trailer to the wrecker yard to retrieve the remainder of our belongings. Instantly we knew the truck and trailer would be rendered a total loss but we weren't so sure about El Valor. Its door was hanging on by a bungee cord (our redneck lock) but from the outside it appeared to be structurally intact. And maybe it is, but as we approached the doorway, the unmistakable stench of hot urine was overwhelming. I peeked inside to find Sage's training potty had exploded all over the bedding, the walls, the floor. Everywhere. Gawd! Awful. I was able to rescue and clean our clothes and shoes and some of the bedding, but really everything is ruined. Walls are probably rotted by now.
In an instant, our mobile journey skidded and screeched to a halt. Instantly, we were without a vehicle, a mobile office, a home, a playhouse, an adventure rig. In an instant, we downsized to little more than our clothes and shoes, a few personal items, and our laptops. A few months ago I had joked that ultimately we would downsize to backpacks and tennis shoes. Shame on me.
So...I will spare all the messy details of working with insurance companies and affiliated businesses. I will keep to myself my opinions about that industry and the government entities that supposely govern them. Instead, I will give an up-to-the-minute synopsis of where we are, what we are doing, and what's next for the NativeDave clan...
At the moment, Sage, Folsom and I are staying with family in the Dallas area. Our clothes and shoes, books and toys, pots and pans and cooking paraphernalia are with us. We have taken over a portion of the garage with bedding materials that we have attempted to clean. Cushions, pillows, padding, blankets and sleeping bags...ruined. Sage's carseat had to be replaced, and the old one sits along with all the other broken and "lost personal property" items awaiting disposal. (I'm not discarding anything until everything is settled.) We have no vehicle, but we are uber-fortunate to have a few willing chauffeurs. Everybody is safe and comfortable. David made it to Corpus Christi to pick up our other truck, after a series of frustrating and maddening events. Again, I won't bore you with insurance crap. He drove that truck to Rockport, taking with him a few camping items that DID survive the accident, and a borrowed tent. He will be at the jobsite for a few days, then will start the trek back toward Dallas.
Our other truck is older, smaller and does not have 4-wheel drive. But everything works on it; it starts everytime. It isn't a long-term option for our mobile lifestyle, but it should at least get us around through spring. When David returns, we will make a few repairs and modifications to make it more comfortable. On his way back he will pick up the trailer in Austin. Surprisingly, we feel we can repair the wall supports that cracked and raise the roof so that we can stand up. The new hardwood flooring we had just finished appear unscathed...this makes me happy. Since this ordeal began, I have grieved most for the trailer. Now it's coming home! It will take some time to make it road-ready...
The mobile part of our journey might be on hold at the moment while we reconfigure our rig but the adventure has never ended. Neither has our mission to preserve, conserve, restore and celebrate natural beauty. Despite all the turmoil, we continue to work. We have given a presentation for the City of Allen and have met with several new clients. We have worked on designs, turned in designs, and finished some revisions. Still have a few more...Anyway, I'm rambling. Sage is awake and ready to eat breakfast. Folsom needs to go outside, and I still haven't had my coffee. It's a different but beautiful start to today.
Two weeks ago we were preparing for the biggest spring on record. Two weeks ago, we were transitioning from a heavenly week on the beach, camping with new friends made during our Florida adventure. Two weeks ago, we had finally purged most of the unessentials. Everything changed two weeks ago, though, on our commute to Dallas.
We left Lockhart early that Saturday morning after an early barbecue nosh at Smitty's. By 10am we would be at Joss Growers in Georgetown photographing plants for our Rockport project. As we approached the entrance ramp onto 130 tollway on the eastside of Austin, a woman travelling east on Maha Loop Road failed to stop at her stop sign. She broadsided us. Rear axle and driveshaft shot from the undercarriage of Daisy (our white F250) and landed in the field. We began to skid...the trailer started to roll...we went up on two wheels...and were being dragged into a culvert. The trailer popped off and the truck tipped to land upright, halfway into the ditch alongside the feeder road to 130 tollway. Nobody appeared to be injured.
The other driver's vehicle was totalled but, thankfully, she was fine. Shaken up, apologetic, sure. But uninjured. Our truck was inoperable but the camper appeared to be ok. When I looked back at the trailer...oh my...I thought it must be in a thousand pieces. Debris littered the roadside. I climbed out of the truck to take a closer look. When the trailer rolled, the rear doors shattered, and everything inside and that was stored on top, sprayed the tall-grass field. It took a couple of hours, but we found even the tiniest of Barbie shoes and attachments to the socket wrench. Most likely, we found all of our belongings. I haven't noticed anything missing...yet. Most of our things were destroyed: BOB stroller, Sage's bicycle trailer, Mr. Heater Big Buddy propane heater, rooftop cargo storage, and so much more. Oddly, Sage's toys seem to be intact but covered in mud and grass. I think I can salvage most of them. Even her dress-up clothes, dragged across the pavement and tossed into the muddy field, might be cleaned up. We'll find out today when I start going through more of our salvaged items.
The next day, we took a rented Uhaul trailer to the wrecker yard to retrieve the remainder of our belongings. Instantly we knew the truck and trailer would be rendered a total loss but we weren't so sure about El Valor. Its door was hanging on by a bungee cord (our redneck lock) but from the outside it appeared to be structurally intact. And maybe it is, but as we approached the doorway, the unmistakable stench of hot urine was overwhelming. I peeked inside to find Sage's training potty had exploded all over the bedding, the walls, the floor. Everywhere. Gawd! Awful. I was able to rescue and clean our clothes and shoes and some of the bedding, but really everything is ruined. Walls are probably rotted by now.
In an instant, our mobile journey skidded and screeched to a halt. Instantly, we were without a vehicle, a mobile office, a home, a playhouse, an adventure rig. In an instant, we downsized to little more than our clothes and shoes, a few personal items, and our laptops. A few months ago I had joked that ultimately we would downsize to backpacks and tennis shoes. Shame on me.
So...I will spare all the messy details of working with insurance companies and affiliated businesses. I will keep to myself my opinions about that industry and the government entities that supposely govern them. Instead, I will give an up-to-the-minute synopsis of where we are, what we are doing, and what's next for the NativeDave clan...
At the moment, Sage, Folsom and I are staying with family in the Dallas area. Our clothes and shoes, books and toys, pots and pans and cooking paraphernalia are with us. We have taken over a portion of the garage with bedding materials that we have attempted to clean. Cushions, pillows, padding, blankets and sleeping bags...ruined. Sage's carseat had to be replaced, and the old one sits along with all the other broken and "lost personal property" items awaiting disposal. (I'm not discarding anything until everything is settled.) We have no vehicle, but we are uber-fortunate to have a few willing chauffeurs. Everybody is safe and comfortable. David made it to Corpus Christi to pick up our other truck, after a series of frustrating and maddening events. Again, I won't bore you with insurance crap. He drove that truck to Rockport, taking with him a few camping items that DID survive the accident, and a borrowed tent. He will be at the jobsite for a few days, then will start the trek back toward Dallas.
Our other truck is older, smaller and does not have 4-wheel drive. But everything works on it; it starts everytime. It isn't a long-term option for our mobile lifestyle, but it should at least get us around through spring. When David returns, we will make a few repairs and modifications to make it more comfortable. On his way back he will pick up the trailer in Austin. Surprisingly, we feel we can repair the wall supports that cracked and raise the roof so that we can stand up. The new hardwood flooring we had just finished appear unscathed...this makes me happy. Since this ordeal began, I have grieved most for the trailer. Now it's coming home! It will take some time to make it road-ready...
The mobile part of our journey might be on hold at the moment while we reconfigure our rig but the adventure has never ended. Neither has our mission to preserve, conserve, restore and celebrate natural beauty. Despite all the turmoil, we continue to work. We have given a presentation for the City of Allen and have met with several new clients. We have worked on designs, turned in designs, and finished some revisions. Still have a few more...Anyway, I'm rambling. Sage is awake and ready to eat breakfast. Folsom needs to go outside, and I still haven't had my coffee. It's a different but beautiful start to today.
Friday, January 28, 2011
We did it
The real highlight of this Deep South sojourn, however, is Florida City. Most travelers stop off here at the gateway to the keys intending to stay a night or two. Some are looking for unique adventures in the Everglades. This is THE place for both...and more. Rates are very reasonable, even in high season. Tours of the Everglades -- smaller groups and more thrilling than park-sanctioned tours -- leave from the hostel. Some are during the day, some at night, depending on the time of month. If you can get there during a full moon, take the late night canoe and hike tour. David went on this one guided by Graham. The pics of the cypress dome under the full moon light are simply awesome. Another day, we went as a family to walk along a small trail near Flamingo, also inside Everglades National Park. Here and no place else on the planet you can see American Alligators and American Crocodiles living together. What an experience! Key West is only about 3 hours south. We were able to complete our "border of blue" tour by reaching southernmost point by late afternoon and returning to the hostel that evening. Communal dinners at the hostel are first-rate, and the garden and waterfall-pool rejuvenate weary travelers. Public transportation from the Miami airport is available. If you drive, there is plenty of parking. You may prefer car camping in your vehicle to dorm accommodations; the fee is only $15 per person compared to $28. Perfect for those of us with small campers willing to boondock.
The best part of Everglades Hostel, though, is the people. Whether resident volunteers or transients like us, there we discovered a new group of friends, an extension of our family, and a community where we want to return again and again. They welcomed us into their enclave as part of them, and almost every person treated Sage as if she were her own. No wonder none of us wanted to leave...
But we did, having completed our journey (at least one direction of it) and are now backtracking toward Texas. The day after Christmas we left South Padre eager to see as much of the Gulf Coast as possible. One month later, we touched southernmost point in Key West. So many experiences, places and people enriched the memories of this odyssey-of-a-lifetime. We will carry them with us as we ramble on...today we left Naples in silence (except for Sage's piercing shrieks during a temper-tantrum.) Nobody seems happy to leave, yet we are all excited about the new projects and presentations that begin next week. Back to Dallas, back to work. And on to the next adventure. Safe travels. May you always float, sea beans. :)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
How we roll...
I think I've mentioned before that every square inch of our 'rig' -- the collective configuration of truck, camper and trailer -- must be used efficiently. Everything must have a specific place to maximize our limited space. That does not mean, however, that we are 'roughing it', as some of you may think. OK, so we do not have a private bath or running water. But when we camp in parks we pick sites adjacent to or across from the bathrooms and showers, and with access to potable water. When we boondock or drycamp in remote areas (e.g., Padre Island National Seashore) we use a portapotty and haul in enough water for a 3-day stay. For us, that equates to about 15 gallons. Our truck and trailer are durable enough to haul more than that but we do not have adequate storage space. Limited space means that each day we are faced with decisions about what stays, what goes to the storage room, what goes to charity, and what goes to recycling or trash bins.
We prepared thoroughly for this odyssey but since we actually put our journey in motion, we have found we still carry too much stuff. The first three months we spent a lot of time sorting, organizing and purging unessential items. Most of that phase is over...yet, I still find odds and ends in drawers and cabinets that we do not need. Each time I do, I wonder how all of that fit into the various compartments of our rig? Folks, we must be some pretty clever packers. Purging will continue, probably, as long as we are travelling.
Along the way I have discovered that there is a hierarchy of organization. The truck must be the most organized and comfortable, followed by El Valor (the camper) and finally, Truckwagon (the trailer.) From memory I can probably list everything we keep inside the cab of the truck and where. Sage's carseat holds the middle seat-position in the backseat. Behind the driver's seat is her "travel bin", a pink-and-brown tote from her old bedroom that houses about 30 books, a purple pumpkin-shaped bag filled with miniature Doras and Bootses and their accessories, Rosemary the doll, and a few other smallish toys and games. She has plenty of things to educate and entertain herself during our travels. On the floorboard behind the driver's seat is David's book bag and under that section of the seat are a couple of bags of clothing he intends to put into storage. Under Sage's seat is the laminator we use for our design products. In the floorboard is a cooler that holds about 10 cans but we have not used it in a while, so it will probably end up in storage, too. Behind the passenger seat on the floorboard is my book bag. Under the seat are Folsom's food and water bowls. In the seat, is the printer covered with three layers of pillows; this is Folsom's perch. He prefers a blurred view of the world outside to a stagnant one of the backside of the passenger seat. Unquestionably, he is our dog.
In the front seat, between driver and passenger, are journals and laptops (and an adaptor), phones and phone chargers, mail just picked up or en route to drop off, and notes about blogposts. Cameras and corresponding data transfer cables are there, too. Floorboards are cleared out so that we may ride comfortably. The area of the floorboard between driver and passenger (where a console organizer might be) holds an assortment of flashlights and a hammer, in case one of the latches on the camper sticks. Ha ha, this has happened often enough to dedicate that space for a hammer! Might be a good weapon, too, if anyone tries to truck-jack us. But why would they want to...? Ha. The dash and cupholders are organized, too. In front of the passenger are stored more flashlights and an extra phone charger, extra data transfer cable, and sometimes leftover snacks. Folsom's leash sits in the middle of the dash but is pushed aside to balance one of the laptops there when we stop briefly for fuel, snacks or potty breaks. In front of the driver is one lone object: a compass that doesn't point north. Perhaps it points toward the thing we desire most? Between the cupholders is an ashtray, but since none of us smoke, we use that space to store extra fuses, the mobile broadband card and pennies. Glovebox holds another backup data transfer cable, pens, a tire gauge, and mayhem. I try to ignore the mayhem because I'm not really sure what it is. Printed photos of landscapes from long ago? Receipts from whoknowswhen? Might even be an assortment of screws and nails from recently purged items that had to be disassembled. Seems like the last time I reached in there something pricked my finger, and it was dark, so I decided whatever is in there can stay in there for now.
Oh, if you are a truck-jacker, I have disappointing news. Most of these items are just passengers in the truck, not permanent fixtures. In other words, we take them with us when we exit the truck. And this truck is haunted, so it will probably break down moments after you commandeer it. But if you are a petty thief...take what you need. I'm tired of purging...
We prepared thoroughly for this odyssey but since we actually put our journey in motion, we have found we still carry too much stuff. The first three months we spent a lot of time sorting, organizing and purging unessential items. Most of that phase is over...yet, I still find odds and ends in drawers and cabinets that we do not need. Each time I do, I wonder how all of that fit into the various compartments of our rig? Folks, we must be some pretty clever packers. Purging will continue, probably, as long as we are travelling.
Along the way I have discovered that there is a hierarchy of organization. The truck must be the most organized and comfortable, followed by El Valor (the camper) and finally, Truckwagon (the trailer.) From memory I can probably list everything we keep inside the cab of the truck and where. Sage's carseat holds the middle seat-position in the backseat. Behind the driver's seat is her "travel bin", a pink-and-brown tote from her old bedroom that houses about 30 books, a purple pumpkin-shaped bag filled with miniature Doras and Bootses and their accessories, Rosemary the doll, and a few other smallish toys and games. She has plenty of things to educate and entertain herself during our travels. On the floorboard behind the driver's seat is David's book bag and under that section of the seat are a couple of bags of clothing he intends to put into storage. Under Sage's seat is the laminator we use for our design products. In the floorboard is a cooler that holds about 10 cans but we have not used it in a while, so it will probably end up in storage, too. Behind the passenger seat on the floorboard is my book bag. Under the seat are Folsom's food and water bowls. In the seat, is the printer covered with three layers of pillows; this is Folsom's perch. He prefers a blurred view of the world outside to a stagnant one of the backside of the passenger seat. Unquestionably, he is our dog.
In the front seat, between driver and passenger, are journals and laptops (and an adaptor), phones and phone chargers, mail just picked up or en route to drop off, and notes about blogposts. Cameras and corresponding data transfer cables are there, too. Floorboards are cleared out so that we may ride comfortably. The area of the floorboard between driver and passenger (where a console organizer might be) holds an assortment of flashlights and a hammer, in case one of the latches on the camper sticks. Ha ha, this has happened often enough to dedicate that space for a hammer! Might be a good weapon, too, if anyone tries to truck-jack us. But why would they want to...? Ha. The dash and cupholders are organized, too. In front of the passenger are stored more flashlights and an extra phone charger, extra data transfer cable, and sometimes leftover snacks. Folsom's leash sits in the middle of the dash but is pushed aside to balance one of the laptops there when we stop briefly for fuel, snacks or potty breaks. In front of the driver is one lone object: a compass that doesn't point north. Perhaps it points toward the thing we desire most? Between the cupholders is an ashtray, but since none of us smoke, we use that space to store extra fuses, the mobile broadband card and pennies. Glovebox holds another backup data transfer cable, pens, a tire gauge, and mayhem. I try to ignore the mayhem because I'm not really sure what it is. Printed photos of landscapes from long ago? Receipts from whoknowswhen? Might even be an assortment of screws and nails from recently purged items that had to be disassembled. Seems like the last time I reached in there something pricked my finger, and it was dark, so I decided whatever is in there can stay in there for now.
Oh, if you are a truck-jacker, I have disappointing news. Most of these items are just passengers in the truck, not permanent fixtures. In other words, we take them with us when we exit the truck. And this truck is haunted, so it will probably break down moments after you commandeer it. But if you are a petty thief...take what you need. I'm tired of purging...
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