How do I tell this tale? Words will surely fail even while the richness leaves my jaw-aching from perma-grin. Last Monday morning at 8:45, I bought a 1960 Airstream Pacer. This was not exactly a whim, although it was my first purchase on eBay. Ever. For anyone who knows the rush of a bidding war on eBay, you know what I am talking about. And, factor in that this was a somewhat larger than usual purchase and not simply a pair of shoes or a purse.995442_10201543718575719_326820933_n I say it wasn’t a whim, as over the weekend, David and I attended our first Airstream rally. Having met a whole new group of lovely like-minded people, we joined the club and began to broaden our Airstream horizons. Many of our new club member friends have multiple trailers, which opened our minds to the possibility of more than one.
28 July, 2013 /
We are faced with decisions daily. Some that will alter the course of our lives, others that will merely take us to the next moment. It’s easy to look back and second guess. But from any vantage point there is always the next crest where we can see even more. We evaluate how something is or looks in a moment, make a decision, then judge our decision a little further along the way. But on the next peak, everything may look differently. And, viewed from space, it just might make sense. We made the decision to buy a trailer and live on the land. Soon after, the “stank” appeared which instigated the exploration inward to uncover the odor. 3+ months later, after various patching attempts and septic pump-outs, we have learned that the problem is a much larger than hoped. Not only does the tank need to be replaced but the wood underneath the bathroom floor has rotted due to the leakage of sewage over time. Lovely, huh? And, yes, it seems absolutely impossible that the dear sweet couple who sold it to us were in the dark... As you know, we moved out a few weeks ago due to the excessive heat and lack of shade which was also a bump in the road we didn't anticipate. Did we make the wrong decision to buy the trailer and attempt that path?
13 July, 2012 /
A-funk-a-fied. That is a word. Don’t test me by telling me it isn’t. Two days of serious funk and no writing. Hmmmm. Help me do the math here. The plan was to work on my book when I am not blogging and that plan has been thwarted. Drats foiled yet again. This is a scientific experiment: how will I feel this afternoon after writing compared to my mood over the past 2 days with no writing... we shall see. I will not factor in the fact that we are seeing Face tonight in Boulder. No, I will determine my post-writing mood independent of that extraneous event. Should be a simple equation. As previously stated, this moodiness t feels like a bad case of PMS. And, it could be “that time” coupled with the fact that on the 50 side of my mid-40’s I may be entering peri-menopause which I have heard carries many many joys. Especially the “Urine leakage while coughing or sneezing.” Not. I have been agro to the max; short on patience, long on reactivity, thin-skinned and excessively tired. Overcast with only small glimpses of occasional sun to remind me it still exists. Although, these days in Colorado we no longer celebrate the sun. We now do rain dances across the state and pray for Seattle slop. And, the rain gods have been kind to us recently. The metro area is cooler than it’s been and our foothills have been getting somewhat regular baths. Of course, these baths bring lightening strikes which have started a few brush fires and caused panic among my neighbors but so far so good. No new fires in our backyard.
07 July, 2012 /
My ambition in life is to someday be the person my dog thinks I am. Emily Maughan
The last few nights have been rough.  Or more correctly, it’s the mornings that stink.  I seem to be harkening back to the early days and my pattern of waking up at 4am to get an early start on worrying.  My mind races with all that has to be done, isn’t being done, should be done.  All the things I keep forgetting.  The clock is ticking on the insurance paperwork and we are barely making any headway.  We do it in fits and starts and between David’s crazy travel schedule, relocating yet again, and general life busyness, it continues to fall to the wayside.  And, we have initiated the exciting (yes) and daunting (certainly) process of rebuilding.   
We need a home.  It is time to turn burgeoning thoughts into reality and break ground.  We need to have a future to live in to.  We have hired an architect and a builder and are beginning to get bids on our plans.  We hope this can be moving forward while we take our break from Colorado for the month of August.  Planning on being vagabonds through July, away for August, counting on cooler living in September and October when we return to Flame.  Then we will pack up again and go who knows where when the snow starts falling for real until our home is complete. 
29 June, 2012 /
The longest day of the year. I think I have had others that have felt longer. But the sun promises to shine longer today than any other day. Maybe I will rise to the challenge and join it. Maybe not. Two sips of coffee in without enough cream to make it just right, I say, it's too soon to tell. I will certainly enjoy the last few flushes of a modern toilet as I return to Flame whose toilet is, once again, on the fritz. Thank God for Shirley Septic and my now semi-permanent portapotty. I don't mind it so much during the day (when no workmen are milling around) but those middle of the night pee times that have become status quo of my mid 40's, well, that's another story. Pledging to keep the leaking tank empty for our next professional opinion, I will stumble through the dark to my plastic throne - or I may just squat along the way. It's hard to imagine all of that as I sit on my plush hotel bed a mere eight feet from a fabulous flush. And, yes, one more standup shower for this girl before I return to the seated bird bath. How different tomorrow will be from today. Did you just say 'at least you are writing regularly again'? I think I heard you say that...
21 June, 2012 /
Please say a prayer with me this morning for I may have drowned my Mac.  I am attempting not to panic or to think of the hefty price-tag that accompanies such a drowning.  I am attempting not to add it to my list of "one more thing" that isn't exactly turning in my favor.  I am attempting not to think of the few things that I didn't save to dropbox but were hanging out on my desktop.  Like the vaporous list of items lost in the fire, I can't quite recall what was there.  It happened in a foggy moment, I was stumbling to get some airflow in the Airstream, opening a curtain, knocked something with my elbow and it didn't register quickly enough just what had happened.  It didn't seem like a lot of water, it coated the bottom of my Mac and I wiped it dry.  But then I opened the lid and a little water was on the inside too.  Again, I really thought it was fine - and my additional early morning errors continued.  I began to attempt to boot it up.  Thinking that the battery was dead, I plugged it in and hit the power button.  Thinking it was in a loop due to a lack of charge, I gave it a few minutes then tried again.  Apparently, that's the wrong thing to do if your computer gets wet as David told me much too late.  For the first couple attempts, it sounded like a fan was running, then some sort of screen image flashed a few times, then nothing.  Nothing.  Nothing.  I should have let it dry out first, perhaps even broken out the hairdryer.  Starting it wet can short the whole system.  Apparently that's what I have done. 
18 June, 2012 /
Is that a dead mouse?  Is it the septic?  Is it a dog fart?  Is it a gas leak?  Whhhhhaaaaatttt is it?  These thought occupy my early waking mind.  Not a pleasant way to return to consciousness.  Life in a trailer – even as sweet a trailer as Flame is not without its challenges.  Upon early morning investigation, we still don’t know.  We have eliminated dog fart and gas leak.  The dogs did fart but now they are outside and the smell remains.  The holding tank shouldn’t be full – yet seems to be burping.  A dead mouse, well that’s instant karma in our war against rodents.  Did we wound one with our modern trap that took revenge by limping away and dying in some crevice?  We don’t know.
A little chilly still to sit outside and write, so I breathe through my mouth as I type and hope my essential oil diffuser will pour enough lavender into the air supply to save my soul.  You know how odor sneaks in anyway?  It’s doing that now.  It occurs as a small threat to our peace of mind.  David has removed himself by taking the garbage and recycling to the “curb” and I attempt to hold my breath.  Could be a rough day in Flame.  Have I mentioned that life is not dull?  It’s not.  Really, it never has been, but it certainly isn’t lately.  Regardless of the stank, mornings are still my best time.  Later in the day, my fatigue sets in and my mood is often erratic.  Yesterday I likened it to a chronic and very bad case of PMS.  David now says he understands what PMS feels like, and ladies, I believe he does.  Thin-skinned, thrown by the slightest curve ball, excessively sensitive, unpredictably dark – and very very tired, these are my constant companions.  After our systems being on high-rev for so long, it’s no wonder we are feeling the stress hangover.  I pray for physical resilience and for that which makes us stronger not to kill us later. 
01 June, 2012 /
The space between what’s wrong and right
Is where you’ll find me hiding, waiting for you
The space between your heart and mine
Is the space we’ll fill with time…
 - Dave Matthews
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. 
31 May, 2012 /
New goals should be clearly set and worked toward, as this is the beginning of a nine-year cycle. It is best not to dwell on the past at this time. This will be fairly easy for you to do because most of the problems and disappointments of the past will tend to disappear, leaving the way open for these new challenges. This is a great time; use it to its full advantage! It holds the promise of an exciting new adventure, with life taking on new challenges that pave the way for the next cycle of nine years in your life. This is a time to clarify your goals and to act on them. Hard work may be necessary to get a new venture moving.
From a reading, describing the end of 2011 and what’s to come… Hmmmm.   An exciting new adventure.  Yes, I can see that.  New challenges, check!  Clarifying my goals.  Yes.  Hard work.  Fer shure.
Most of the problems and disappointments from the past have disappeared - in a fiery maelstrom.  So, yes, it's true, I am not dwelling on thosethings.  Don’t even remember what they were.  And, most days, I am doing “well”.  And then there are those moments…  You know “those” moments?  The ones that take you to your knees, that leave you unsure if you will crack open on the spot and not “crack open” in the seemingly good way but in the way where your psyche may actually fold in on itself and you may just die right there?  Those moments.  I danced on the verge of a few of these moments yesterday. 
22 May, 2012 /
It’s quiet here.  Dare I say peaceful?  I know houses don’t make much noise – especially mountain houses but it seems more silent than ever before.  The land is restored to an earlier state.  Different than it was in 1983 before the building began yet it restored to a raw place, pre-human dwelling place.  Grass is blooming in patches, birds are singing, bugs are crawling, small wildflowers are poking up in unlikely spots.  The hummingbirds have returned and we welcome them with small feeder on our Astroturf lawn.  I sit outside to write today, getting a later start due to lounging in bed until 7:30, taking out the trash (we have trash service again!), and a series of phone calls.  Jessica is on the way to help me create some order and “continue” with the inventory process.  The dreaded inventory feels just that, dreaded.  Yet with the help of friends, it is doable.  Alone, not so much. 
It promises to be a warm day and I am grateful (as always) to live 3000 feet above the early season heat Denver will experience today.  The shipping container will arrives later this morning and we will begin nesting there as well. More storage space for our small pile of detritus we have accumulated as well as the artifacts that lie in the elements, rusting even more on their newly scorched visages.  I discovered an artist in Evergreen who makes small sculptures out of found art and was drawn to an angel she made from a collection of who knows what.  I am creating a pile for her to commission an angel formed from what once was.   Right now, the pile sits next to the totem pole and obstructs the view off the back of Flame.  It needs to go somewhere else.  The twisted and molten memories beckon and clog my mind more than it deserves to be clogged. 
18 May, 2012 /