It is nearing a half year since we kissed domesticity goodbye and headed out on the open road. It would be a big, fat, fib to say that it has been a rose-strewn road of exciting exploits and continual contentment. We have days that are filled with dramatic discovery and days filled with untold tedium. This is not a vacation. It is life in a truck.
One of the downsides to a nomadic lifestyle is the incessant solitude. I’m basically an introvert. So, I relish the peace and quiet. I need time for reflection, but too much isolation is not conducive to a healthy psyche. I am also a social animal that needs to see a familiar face from time to time. My husband has a very nice face and I never tire of seeing it, but after six months I know every freckle, every laugh line and every wayward eyebrow hair. So, it is a VERY GOOD day when old friends, who happen to be fellow RV’ers, can join us for libations, laughter and a round of Scrabble.
“The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.”
― Dr. Seuss
I believe that Doctor Seuss had adequately summarized another downside to living in a truck. All is right with the world when it is warm enough and dry enough to make the outdoors your living room. But when the cold rain comes, especially when it lingers for a few days, the living quarters can create claustrophobia. Oh, and if you are blessed enough to have a lovely Labrador, who needs regular constitutionals, you are going to be forced to confront the elements.
Wet dogs have an interesting aroma that further enhances the cabin fever element brought about by inclement weather.
If I love warmth and sunshine, which I do, I should not be in the Mid-Atlantic in April.
There are also good days. In fact, there are GREAT days. I am able to feed my wanderlust during day-long hikes to new valleys and vistas. I can breathe in the scenery while allowing my spirit to soar.
There are campfires, and grilled meals, and owls hooting haunting lullabies.
There is minimalism and simplicity. There is something satisfying about learning to live with less.
There is only one bathroom to clean. When the sky is blue, the accommodations are not claustrophobic; they are cozy. Sure, I have to sweep the floor a dozen times per day, but it takes all of 30 seconds.
Due to close quarters, I am nearly always covered in dog hair. It is no longer bothersome. Learn to like what you cannot change. It is now a fashion statement.
A REALLY great day entails going to the local winery to celebrate signing a contract to have a home built on Lake Anna. Perseverance Pays.
Perhaps now, I can relax and enjoy the next 12 months in Big Bertha.
Light at the end of the tunnel will allow me to appreciate the adventure.
Now back to Maryland and opening day for little league. I cannot wait to see my little sluggers.