Practicing togetherness

Yesterday was the two week mark for being back in Michigan.  I’m guessing that means we made the cross-country trip from California unscathed. King and I subscribe to the “this is real and this is dangerous” line of thought when it comes to COVID-19, so two-weeks is presumably the safety zone.

While face masks are obviously not within our normal purview, social distancing is something King and I have been practicing for years.|

We have never been social creatures. While I truly enjoy going out to lunch or dinner – it’s mostly because I’m tired of cooking -- King does not like going out to eat. At all. Period. The end.  When an anniversary or birthday rolls around our daughter has to remind King that he should take me out to eat. She used to say, “That doesn’t mean McDonalds or Burger King. It means a sit-down restaurant.” She now has to add, “It doesn’t mean Big Boy, either. Take her someplace where she can order a Bloody Mary.” But we don’t have to worry so much about that now. Even with some restaurants opening I don’t see us going out any time soon.

Now golf…. Well that’s another story. King was quite concerned about being able to hit the links. It looks as though his concern was unwarranted. Courses have opened.

So for us, life has pretty much continued as it was before COVID-19.  There are a few changes the observant person might find interesting. Today I had to stand outside the grocery store with other masked strangers and wait my turn to enter. Who would have thought? As I was standing there I had the opportunity to observe people as they left.  It would seem “Have a nice day,” has been replaced with “Stay safe.” I rather like that. But again, who would have thought?

And I don’t mean to trivialize the impact the shutdown has had on people. I understand the need to get back to work, the frustration with unemployment applications and the worry of trying to pay bills with no income.  Been there.

And life goes on.

Since we got back we’ve been able to visit with our Michigan grandchildren. One son lives in Paw Paw and the other in Grand Haven.  We’ve visited both families but remained outside for both visits. I have to add in this instance the social distancing thing does have its advantages. There is no longer that awkward moment when saying hello or goodbye that you have to wonder, “Does this pre-teen really want me hugging him/her?”  The more shy grandchildren no longer have to slink out of the room when we say goodbye.

So after the excitement of visiting grandchildren, today was another in a long line of quiet days.

It’s been raining all day and the weather has driven King and I inside. These are the days when one really notices the togetherness of living in 192 square feet. King is lying in the bedroom watching the first season of Yellowstone on DVD. I’m sitting 10 feet away in the dining room – your typical small camper with bench seats and a table between them. I have folded the table down into a bed so I can sit with my feet up. Cindy is snoring next to me. Separating the front of the trailer where I’m sitting and the back of the trailer where King is watching TV is the galley on the left and the bathroom on the right. That’s it. That’s our house. It’s not for everyone. Even the best of friends don’t always like one another 24-hours a day. We simply make it work because if it doesn’t, friends and family can say, “See I told you living in a travel trailer was a dumb idea.”

While there are those who shake their heads and make disparaging remarks under their breath, there are others who often tell me, “I’ve always wanted to live in a trailer and just travel. It sounds like so much fun.”

Yes, we ARE having fun. But it’s not as if you can just sell off all your possession, hook up the trailer and go. There is a lot of behind the scenes planning. Things like auto insurance, health insurance, mailing addresses, annual physicals, emergency dental visits,  or even just carrying around an extra prescription for glasses (in case you accidently drive over your only pair because you left them on the tailgate while hooking up the trailer in the rain).   There is a learning curve for shopping when your refrigerator is not much bigger than a dorm refrigerator and your cupboard is 24 x 24 (inches).  And probably one of the biggest learning curves is learning to ignore snarky comments; learning to say snarky comments quietly enough so your deaf partner can’t hear you and learning to point your head in the other directions when saying quiet, snarky comments just in case your partner can see your lips moving – it’s an exhaustive list. 

It mostly works for us.

Mother's Day 2020

It's been a pretty subdued Mother's Day.

King and I went to a drive thru, got sandwiches and took them to the beach to watch the waves from the truck. I guilted him into it by telling him it was Mother's Day and since no one could visit he would have to substitute for the kids. We both knew I was fibbing. It is what it is. We are a close enough family that I.don't need anything special for Mother's Day. There will be plenty of other days for family gatherings.

One of our sons did stop by and give me a small plant. Since he has severe anxiety issues, the short stay and social distancing was probably a good thing for him.

Mother's Day brings about a lot of memories. Not so much about Mother's Day past, but about Mothers in general.

My cousin and I were talking (via Messenger) last night about horses and the memories of growing up with horses. I shared the following with her. Since it includes a memory of Mom it also makes a good Mother's Day post.

I had this big dumb Quarter Horse gelding when I was growing up. He was probably way too much horse for a rather mild-mannered equestrian (read he scared me sh--less). But he was born on the place which made his price one a frugal Dutch couple could manage. It never occurred to any of us that perhaps there might be a better fit somewhere in the equine world.

Mom, August 4, 1945. Her
wedding day. 

Chubby (the name of the horse) had a propensity of deciding when he had enough and would stand stock still. That was always a bad sign since his normal demeanor was prancing around and giving little crow-hops just for grins (his grins). Once he decided to not to move  you knew your next few minutes would include bouncing across the yard as he would then rear up and go over backwards. I learned to bail and roll. I was 12 at the time. He was a green-broke three-year old who could get away with it because, well, I was 12.

One day my younger sister, my BFF and I were going riding together when he decided "Nope. Not going to happen today."

As I rolled across the grass my friend took off on her horse to catch him. I picked myself up, spit out dirt and grass and counted my teeth then started down the road to meet her. We caught up with one another in front of the neighbors. My friend handed me the reins and Chubby started dancing around and stomping on feet. I'd had enough.

I took the reins from her and beat him across the chest spewing profanity that would make a sailor blush. My friend's eyes grew huge and she inclined her head slightly behind me. There stood Mom.

Mom was not impressed. "You get down on your knees right now and pray for forgiveness."

Up until this point in my life I had never talked back to my mother. But I looked at her and said, "Sure Mom. You hold the #$%#@# horse."

That was the last time I ever talked back to Mom. It was also the last time Chubby threw me.

Home Sweet Home

King and I made it back to Michigan and are spending day three in our new home.

So far we are quite pleased with it. Our little Shasta was 18 feet long. This one is 24 feet long. It's amazing what a difference six feet can make. No, it's not a fancy trailer. It's a 1983 model and has a few quirks. One of the windows was replaced by a previous owner. It doesn't match the rest. I'm not even certain it opens. I may try, but not today, or this week even. King and I have been driving cross-country together for three days and then spent a day loading stuff into our new home. Now would not be a good time to try to open a window and not be able to close it. I'll wait until neither one of us is crabby any longer. Maybe August.

We are staying at a seasonal campground outside of South Haven. It's not fancy but it is very, very nice. The owners are a young couple with young children. They have been very helpful and friendly and have gone out of their way to make sure we have what we need. (Their business prospect for the coming summer have to be pretty scary for them). It's a clean little campground with water and electric (no sewer, but there is a dump station on the grounds) as well as primitive campsites. The sites are nice, grassy spots (no shade). There are also several cabins to rent as well. It is located next to the Kal Haven Trail. If I were so inclined I could walk along the trail to either South Haven or Kalamazoo. Like opening the trailer window, it probably is not going to happen.

Although we are one of two trailers here early in the season (and the other one doesn't appear to be occupied at the moment) the campground has the potential to be rather busy. I am guessing this season will depend upon how people feel about camping this summer and the lifting of restrictions in the state. The place is booked for Memorial Day weekend -- people are banking on the State of Emergency being lifted by then. We were told after Memorial Day we could have our pick of campsites. We have no desire to hook up the trailer and move again so this site is where we will stay for the summer.

At a time when social distancing is becoming the norm, living at a campground will have some challenges. But we tend to be isolationists anyway. Anyone who knows King knows he's not the most friendly of people. It's not hard to keep up with the social distancing thing when 50 percent of us are not social. King's mother used to describe him as gregarious. I'm not certain that would be my first choice of words used to describe him.

So here we are in our new home, hunkering down for the summer. I plan on reading a lot, finishing an afghan I started last winter and sewing more face masks for friends and family. It has been suggested I could spend the summer decorating our new home. When we bought our Shasta in 2016 we basically tore it down to the studs (or whatever you want to call that flimsy wood they make trailer frames out of), repaired and replaced tired and worn out parts and I then repainted and  "glammed" up the inside. That's probably not going to happen with this one. We live in our trailer, full-time, along with our not-so-small dog. We camp, we don't stay at RV resorts. Where we are now is the closest we will get to a "resort." White walls and cute curtains are not really conducive to our dusty lifestyle. So I'm going to have to learn to embrace brown, which is what the inside of this trailer is. Brown. A lot of brown.  I may re-upholster the cushions and cornice boards but that's about it.

Anyway, people have been asking for photos of our new home. So here goes... It's a 1983 Fleetwood Wilderness. I apologize if the photos don't show up. My wireless connection is not the greatest.

There is a bed in the back. Obviously Cindy thinks it's hers. 

The galley area is small but serviceable. 

The table in front and the the cushions are in the lovely brown,
orange and beige colors of the 1980s.

T

Another view of the galley.

A fairly typical RV bathroom. Interesting thing
about this is the toilet paper roll is inside
the cabinet under the sink. The toilet sits
in front of it. One will have to plan ahead to
unroll the toilet paper before sitting down to
take care of business.

As an aside, our trip home was not a fun trip. We left on a Tuesday and arrived in Michigan late Thursday night. It was a lot of driving and included spending three hours outside of Tulsa getting a new fuel pump put on the truck. We are very grateful to the tow company and the mechanic who installed a new fuel pump in record time. However in the fixing of the fuel pump something got bumped or pulled under the hood and our "message center" is telling us we have no four-wheel-drive and the trailer brakes need servicing. Something to be added to our list of things to do. Not that our list is long. In fact, I think that is the only thing on the list.

 Driving across country during a  pandemic is interesting. Most people wore their masks. King and I did. We were also able to score some disinfectant wipes before we left California so we wiped down any of our purchases before using them. I give a lot of credit to the men and women who work at the gas stations and truck stops who have to deal with people from all over the country. Kudos to the truckers as well. Scary times.

Personally I think a prerequisite for every presidential candidate should be a cross country trip by car. Not a campaign trail, but an actual cross country trip where they pump their own gas; meet the cashiers who stand behind plastic shields; watch the farms roll by, and visit the tiny towns -- the ones without Wal-Marts and Costco. I think it would be good for them to really see how most Americans live. That's not a political comment, just an observation. Well, ok, maybe it is. I think too many politicians (from both parties) have lost touch with the people they serve.

Stay safe. Wash your hands. Don't touch your face. Wear a mask.