It’s the little things.  Like a new plastic folding table that can tuck away and serves as a place for my coffee cup in the morning.  My routine is to sit on my bed and write until the sun shines too brightly through my window and then I move to David’s.  Where to put the coffee mug has been a big concern.  The floor, too low.  The bed, too unstable.  Can’t hold it and type.  Problem solved for $10.99.  And, we have now disposed of the second mouse that was bold enough to run past me twice last night.  Sharing this small space with two big dogs and another human is quite enough.  Sharing with small furry rodents who poop on my stuff and make nests out of my precious snuggly things, not gonna happen. 

More small stuff.  I found a matching set of our cowboy sheets online and now we will have the ability to have clean sheets at whim.  Yippy!  I googled cowboy sheets and up they popped.  Ahhh the marvels of modern living.  Yesterday, we also discovered ‘Camping World’ a mini-Wal-Mart for all things mobile home.  Kids in a candy store, we wandered the aisles looking for items to create more creature comforts.  Hooks for the inside of closet doors, an entry rug, the awaited rolling holding tank with which to empty our onboard shitter and my already mentioned folding table.  We also bought a small table and chairs to hold our umbrella and make outdoor dining a reality.  We are homesteading.

Besides the giant pile of dirt the excavators left in removing our house, it seems that we hang on a lovely, albeit scorched, area of vacant land.  We are merely campers here.  We don’t disrupt much.  We leave it better than we found it.  We pack our trash out and leave the area as pristine as possible.  We live in harmony with the elements.  We practice on our own land before we take Flame on the open road to a “real” campground.  Another benefit of finding Camping World is we are now members (!!!!) and we get discounts at campgrounds across the country.  America, here we come.  We will start gently with a campground the Meehan’s have already discovered 2 ½ hours southeast.  We will test our mettle and make sure our badges are properly earned before we set out for more adventurers like the Grand Canyon.  David’s colleague lives within the park at the Canyon – and is requiring visits.  Wintering there for a few weeks or more sounds like an excellent plan.

I wonder how I will be.  Do I want to pick up my shallow roots and move so soon?  I am a nestler.  I like to settle, burrow and get cozy.  I love my adventures but crave ‘home’.  Now our 26 feet of home will follow behind the truck with the dogs and us.  Maybe we will become nomads.  Airstream nomads, that is.  I don’t aspire to backcountry backpacking lugging essentials on my slender frame.  I am past that point in life.  At 46, I want adventure but not wacky adventure.  Our work is portable.  David needs to go to Seattle regularly but perhaps he will leave me in varying landscapes.  Solo at the Grand Canyon, alone by some mountain lake somewhere, by myself by the beach?  Locked and loaded with two big dogs as my protectors, I know I will be safe.

I like the idea of wandering for a bit or maybe longer.  If not now, then when else?  My 74-year-old father romanticizes about our silver bullet.  He would love to hit the road as well.  It’s most likely not a good idea for him at this point in his life.  I don’t want to get to the point where it’s no longer and option and say I wish we could have, would have.  In the world of “should’s”, that definitely should be one of the lessons from this fire, right?

Speaking of lessons, I am letting go of needing to know what I will learn for now.  I will reside in the unmanifested for a little while longer.  In some ways I want to know now and in many more ways I don’t.  This is a precious time before much has taken form.  No major decisions have been made, no ground has been broken, no large amount of money has been spent, no new paths have been worn.  We are formulating.  We are wondering.  We are hanging in that for as long as possible.  I want these lessons badly.  I demand the transformation that will come.  I crave to be rid of the confining parts of my self and live more from expansive possibility.  I insist on more of this rawness and less of the concerns about what others will think.

And, for now, I will be where I am – in the in-between.  In the land of the unknown, the land of the unformed.

I will rest in the ‘space between’ for a bit longer.  Feel free to visit me here.