With a contract in hand, we are finally moving forward with concrete plans to have a new home built. Site planning, lot clearing, well digging and construction are projected to take a year. A year? We’ve already been living like wayward wanderers for six months. What’s another year?
Another year is an additional 365 days, another 525,949 minutes. Long-suffering perseverance is not my long suit. I am itching to see the light, but we are entering a long, long, tunnel.
So, an RV will be our abode for another trip around the sun. Big Bertha has been good to us, but her floor is constantly dirty, she smells like a dog, and she can be a tad too cold for comfort unless the outdoor temperatures are summerlike. I can endure this. Positive thinking and layered clothing. Breathe in the good. Breathe out the bad. Ommmmmm….
“It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses, we must plant more roses.”
― George Eliot
So, I will breathe in the beauty and breathe out the cramped quarters. In fact, my goal is to turn the next twelve months into a gigantic Advent calendar. I will greet each sunrise by opening a door to see what curiosity will be behind it. It will be an ADVENT-ure calendar, a tool to count down the 365 days while reminding myself that life is an adventure, a trip of twists and turns, an expedition into the unexplored.
Advent is about waiting with expectation while preparing to celebrate. I can do this. I expect champagne at journey’s end.
I will be in my old stomping grounds for the next several weeks. I can shop at stores I am familiar with. I can go to my old gym. I can see friends and family, attend little league games, and engage in familiar activities.
A year feels less daunting when you can subtract the next 57 days. See, I can be optimistic. 308 days seems much more manageable.
It’s been a gray, chilly Spring but a few rays of sun have made it through, bringing promises of warmth. Today, however, is a dank, dreary day, replete with a penetrating rain. It is not a day for getting lost in the woods, or long walks with Gypsy, or sitting around a campfire. There will be no Little League. It is certainly a rain delay kind of day.
As I open the door to my ADVENT-ure calendar, I see the weather and am inclined to slam it shut. Instead, I see that I can go to the gym, run on the treadmill while listening to a podcast and can finish reading RULES OF CIVILITY while whirling my legs on the Elliptical.
Moving from darkness towards light. Positivity is my new superpower.
2 thoughts on “Looking for Light at the End of the Tunnel”
As always, thank you for your wonderful narrative. Sorry about the inclement weather, but we need the rain for all the plant growth, witnessed in your marvelous pictures. At my age, I don’t really want to say, “I hope the time passes quickly,” so I will say I hope it seems that way to you. Thank you for the pix of my great-grandchildren. I never get enough. Wishing you loads of luck as the plans proceed. God bless you.
Just think how enormous your house will feel once it’s built. My great niece and wife and little girl are in an rv in San Diego. They originally had converted an old school bus. It was so pretty. Unfortunately the garage messed up the switch to the gas tanks and it caught on fire. They are into small living. I don’t know if I could do what you are doing. Not with all of the cats we have. One dog sounds perfect. Anyway. Thanks for the updates. I look forward to them.