Daylight and darkness

Feeling subdued this morning. Again. Here we are in southern California with sunshine and warmth. And I'm grateful. But...

But... I just have to think of friends and family back home who are dealing with crap. Where all is not sunshine and warmth. Where life is downright awful. Where there are no easy answers. Where there aren't even ANY answers - easy or otherwise. Where each new day has more than its share of pain and really, really hard stuff to deal with.

Sometimes I wish we were there. OFTEN I wish we were there. To help - although I wouldn't know how to help. I don't have the answers. But just to be there. To lend my/our presence. To give hugs or back scratches. To listen. To cry together.

So what do we do with all that? Do we figure out a way to go back? How do we know?

...

Ah, there's a bit of daylight. Just a bit.  Where all was darkness, finally some faint light.

And with that teeny bit of light I can see the outlines of the mountains. Ah, yes, there are mountains surrounding us. Can't forget the mountains. What do we do about the mountains? Do we stay in our little valley and go on with every day life here - or do we shake things up and find a way up and over these particular mountains to locate somewhere else? Somewhere where we may or may not do more good. Where we may serve a different purpose.

We all have mountains. Mountains sometimes give good gifts - like shelter or beauty or inspiration. Mountains also restrict. Mountains can be dangerous and deadly.  Mountains demand much of us. Courage. Energy. Faith. Wisdom. Perspective.  Patience.

...

I guess I don't have to figure it all out right this minute. I can appreciate the daylight that is creeping into my world and be grateful that darkness turns to dawn yet another day. I do and I am. Oh, yes, I do appreciate daylight and I am grateful when darkness gives way to dawn. 
 

Watching the sunrise... or where I step

Tucked in the valley, I cannot actually see the sun as it rises, but I can see it shining on the mountains around us. It lights up the peaks - first the tall one behind our ridge that I never even noticed before - and then the closer peaks. Slowly the light from the ridge creeps down the slopes until eventually it breaks into our lovely park.  Little splotches here and there. On the tree tops outside my window, then the trunks, and finally hits the ground in little chunks on the lanes and clearings.

Oh, what a glorious process!
...

My friend Nancy Bouwens talks about perspective and asks whether we are focusing on the mud or on the stars.  It reminds me a bit of my current reality. 

Here I am, off on this incredible adventure, fortunate enough to have escaped the Michigan winter and be living in balmy southern California. I am definitely grateful for the privilege and am continually reminded of my blessings. I certainly don't not want to be whiny and complaining.

BUT, some things are still hard. Because this is real life. 

'Tis true that some things are easier because we are here. The warm temperatures allow me to get outside and do more walking which will hopefully have a healing effect on my joints and muscles.

It is also true that some things are harder because we are here - or at least because we are away. There are complicated situations at home that are made much more difficult for us and possibly for others by us not being there in person to care for the physical details of the various situations and responsibilities. It is hard. No question.

Then some things are hard just because they are hard. They are not necessarily any easier or any harder because of our location. It is just that we are living life and life is hard sometimes.

When you depart one time zone for another, move from one climate to another, you don't get to leave all of your problems behind.  Nope; you simply trade one set of problems for another set. Some things get better, some seem worse, and some just go with you wherever you go.

...

While I was reading what Nancy wrote about choosing between the stars and the mud, I realized that I have my own sky or ground scenario.  Yes, I have the positive choice of gazing at the sky.  My "looking at the ground" option might have more to do with focusing on the pickers and other hazards on the ground than with mud. Things that can trip me up and cause me pain. I love, love, LOVE watching the sunshine hit the mountain peaks in the morning and gradually creep down the slopes... I don't so much love the thorns that get stuck in my flip-flops and attack my feet. They are both part of my present reality. Given the current record-breaking drought going on in this area, things probably won't get much more pleasant or healthy underfoot, so wisdom suggests that I pay attention and find ways to protect myself from further injury. At the same time, I will be grateful for the sun lighting up the mountain peaks in succession each morning, for the amazing blue sky during the day, and for the full moon at night. I will continue to appreciate and enjoy them even while exercizing caution about where I step.

...

 

Two weeks

Two weeks ago today we headed out.  We closed up our cabin and drove away.  We said our good-byes and left the snow and cold that is Michigan.

We made it here safely and we are breathing easier.  We have been enjoying much about being here.  We love having temps in the 70's and not having to bundle up.  We love being warmed by the sun. 

However, not all is perfect.  And why would I expect it to be? 

I still don't have as much energy as I wish for.  I am still bothered by knee and ankle injuries so I am unable to walk as much as I hoped to. 

I still seem to have lots of ideas running around in my head that I want to write about, but never quite make it happen. 

I still get restless and fidgety in the evenings.  I still have not fully adjusted to the Pacific Time Zone and have trouble staying awake until a reasonable hour for bedtime.  (Oh, wait; I had that problem on Eastern Time as well!)

So maybe this is the new normal. 
Or maybe we just need a TV so we have something to watch in the evening.  Or maybe we can watch movies on Bob's computer...
Yah, something mindless and entertaining once in awhile.  Sounds about right.

Day Ten: We made it!

We arrived at Kenny Grove Park, Fillmore, CA, a little before noon.   It is really pretty around here. What a pleasant surprise to drive into a verdant valley with orange groves, nurseries and green sod fields after several days and several states of barren countryside.  And trees.  Lots of trees.  The park boasts a variety of cacti. Those bright-colored "balloons" on some of them! Are they fruit* or flower? Is that a jade plant just outside our door? And maybe a geranium entwined with it.  This might be a very good time and a great place to learn more about desert vegetation.

  *My daughter informs me that the prickly pear is quite delicious.

Our spot is somewhere in the middle of the park on the top of a steep hill. Very tight for parking the rig. Even though this is Bob's first experience to attempt such a feat, he managed to get it in place with less than an inch to spare when we open the slider. We even have a storage shed - where we can pack away our snow boots and winter coats!

Now begins the process of settling in and making this little perch our home. Plumbing, mechanical, finding stuff, unpacking, sorting, storing, and getting comfortable. I think we're gonna' like it here.

Day Nine: Last night on the road

A day off. We didn't have to go any certain number of miles today. We didn't stay on course today. We just went where Bob wanted to go, on a mission he has been dreaming of since the conception of this trip. Somewhere with great photo ops.

I mostly wanted to do some reading and some writing. And to buy some groceries. Those wishes fit in rather nicely with the photo quest. 

Then one more night in a camp somewhere in an amazing canyon before checking in at our new home for the winter.

 

Day Eight: - Made it to California!

 

I liked the little KOA we stayed at last night in Kingman, AZ, and felt refreshed and ready for yet another day of travel. That was a nice change from mostly feeling fatigued the last few days.

I wore my hiking sandals today. With socks, but still.  Maybe flip-flops tomorrow?

Climbed to 7200 feet and back down a thousand or two and back up again. Several times. Yep, another ear-popping day!

Made it to California. Wahoo!!! 

Inspection Center. Oops! We forgot NOT to buy fresh produce before entering California.  Let's see; what do we have? A new bag of mini-peppers and one of carrots - both unopened - as well as a banana. We wondered whether we would be allowed to bring them in. Oh wait; the guy waved us through without even asking any questions.

More vegetation than we've seen through a couple states - despite the horrific drought we've been hearing about. I like vegetation.

• Drove through the Mojave Desert pretty much all day - or at least for 200 miles.
• Sign says "Traffic monitored by air craft." Must be true that it is strictly enforced in at least one section of highway because very few trucks passed us there - which is rare.
• A helicopter passed us on one of the mountain roads - or at least most of a helicopter - on the back of a truck. 
• Holy Moses Wash.  Evidently a "wash" is something like an arroyo - or dried up river. Holy Moses Wash was my favorite.
• Warning sign:  Bumps at bridges  Really?  Guess the only thing different about California and other states is that they have warning signs for the notorious rough and bumpy overpass bridges.  How nice of them to let us know.
• 62 degrees!
• We are camped in what looks like a little "parking lot" or maybe a junk yard in the town of Mojave with a flimsy chain link fence a few feet away. On the other side of the fence is the Mojave Air and Space Port - where space shuttles land sometimes. How fun. Oh, yah, we are right by Edwards Air Force Base...
•  Figured out how to change our clocks.  Hadn't bothered until we reached our last time zone.  Well, at least our last one for a few months.

Day Seven: Some more Arizona, the penultimate state

• 'Twas soooooo good to sleep in our own bed, our own place
• The winds have died down and it is much calmer today. Great news to not have the relentless head-wind
• Low energy today. Not pushing myself to write or accomplish anything.
• Lots of ups and downs today. Lots more ear-popping
• Trees!!!
• Flagstaff is beautiful
• Mountain roads make me nervous. Now there's an understatement. 
• Time for some ice cream
• Palm trees!
• Found a truck wash so we can finally get the Michigan dirt off the rig and the de-icer off the steps. Also found a supermarket. 
• Staying in a KOA in Kingman, AZ, and feeling more at home in our rig
• Almost to California!

Day Six: Arizona & feeling at home

• Drove through Albuquerque today and into Arizona
• Ears popping with changes in altitude.  Actually everything popping and making big messes: the ketchup yesterday, the lotion this morning, the Miracle Whip, the mustard...
• We passed an 18-wheeler today. Yep, that is note-worthy.
• Feeling tired today. Back pain again.
• We are staying in our own place tonight. Finally! It feels so good, like coming home
• I am missing the little guys. Need some Face time

Day Five: Land of Enchantment

• Took a few minutes to explore the strange surroundings where we stayed last night in Conway, Texas.  See some of Bob's pictures here.
• Slowed our pace a bit today because we are tired AND because we are nicely ahead of schedule.
• Reading Packing Light by Alison Vesterfelt on my Kindle.  So timely!
• What a great day for tumbleweed!
• Russell's Travel Center.  Car museum - free admission, definitely worth the price. 
• Truck started making a strange sound but performed well.  Maybe it is tired, too.  Bob was careful not to push it too hard and it seemed okay.
• Crossed into New Mexico and Mountain time
• Caught a glimpse of snow-capped mountains in the distance off to the right.  They make me happy.
• Billboard: You trash it; we smash it.  Jacksoncompaction.com
• Stopping for the night just east of Albuquerque

Day Four: Long day

Drove through Oklahoma

Couldn't get internet on my phone; felt frustrated and isolated

Driving through Tulsa and OKC was crazy; civil engineering and construction zone safety seem a bit lacking

Looked for a salad; found fresh veggies and fresh fruit at Love's

Hearing lots of Spanish

Stopped at a little motel in/near Conway, Texas. Cement block construction. Reminds me of a cheap Texas motel in a bad movie.

There is a microwave here so we were able to warm up leftovers rather than go out for dinner.

Thankful Thursday: on loneliness

Adventures can be lonely. Epic journeys come at the price of painful goodbyes and a great sense of distance.

In an unfamiliar little town where you know nobody and barely recognize the language, loneliness seems to lurk in the shadows.

On the Oklahoma prairie, loneliness no longer lurks nor hides, but steps boldly onto center stage assuming a more visible and more audible role in the desolate howling of the wind as it swirls little dust clouds into your eyes.

Connection is vital.

For me to feel connected, while on this journey as well as in daily life, the internet is an invaluable tool. I do love the internet. I am so very grateful to have been born in such a time that at least some of my years could include the connectivity of the world wide web.

Partnership is also vital.

This would not be fun as a solo journey, but because I have a partner, there is shared adventure. We can celebrate together, but we can also lift the other's spirits. Our unique individual attributes complement those of the other to make us stronger together.

So on this potentially lonely Thursday out on a desolate prairie, I am thankful for internet access at least now and then and extremely thankful for my amazing partner - on every mile of the journey.

Day Three: Westward Ho!

• Temperature is climbing slowly. Didn't have to wear coat during the day.
• Sign along road: "Do not drive into smoke." Huh?
• Stopped near Vinita, OK - at a forlorn little Super 8 motel on the wind-swept prairie
• Had to wear coats again and bundle up against the frigid Arctic air
• Decided not to search for a restaurant, but ate leftovers instead. Cold. Because our room had no microwave

Day Two: Southbound and down

• Drove 395 miles through Indiana and Illinois
• Stopped in Greenville, Illinois - just east of St. Louis
• Walked to the Huddle House, a busy little diner next door to our hotel

Day One: Heading out

• Lina's third birthday. I was so looking forward to spending time with her before leaving the state. Oops; sickness interrupted so that didn't work out. So sad.
• Teary goodbyes with my mom and Bob's brother. Serious health issues for both.
• Hit the open road about 8:30 p.m.
• Seemed to be leaving snow behind already.
• Stopped in Coldwater, MI, for the night. Starting to snow.

Life on the road: the eve of departure

Date: 12-29-13, the night before we leave, 8:40 p.m.

Location: Our cozy little cabin - for the last time for awhile, maybe ever

Outside: Turning really cold again after two days of thawing. Too bad we didn't get out of here today while it was a tad warmer.

Miles traveled: Just a few errands around home

Walked: Nope, except back and forth to the sheds and the camper. Very slippery underfoot.

Hubby is: Working on a blog post.

Recent happenings: Moving into the RV: packing the rest of our stuff away into storage; showing the property four times in the last couple weeks; a trip to E.R. last night for cardiac testing, slept in the rig last night - just to make sure everything is ready.

Unexpected: Walked into my mom's place to find a pan she is giving to me; realized it may be my last time to ever be in there. Weird feeling.

Noticed: That I don't feel the need to cling to any of the things there.

Made me smile: Smartfood white cheddar popcorn. My new favorite brand.

Blessings: What an awesome opportunity to start out on this big adventure. Feeling grateful.

Reading: Skimming just a little of several books to decide for sure which ones to take along.

Considering: I may still try to convince myself to leave some things behind that I already had packed.

Working on: A few empty bins sit ready to store the last minute stuff

Accomplishments: We got almost everything loaded and/or packed away today.

Lessons: I still have lots to learn - about myself, about life, about time pressure and physiology and stress, and about lots of things.

Agenda: Get to bed at a decent hour; sleep really well in that huge bed one last time; get up early and energized; finish up the last bit of leftovers for breakfast; pack up the last-minute stuff; hitch up the rig and hit the road.

Looking forward to: Being done with the decision-making and the packing and loading; getting away from the freezing temps; having more time to write and enjoying a modern kitchen again.

Next stop:  Waterford, MI to celebrate little Lina's third birthday with hugs and kisses.