Rolling Solo - Caballo Dam State Park

There have been expected shifts in circumstance, some unexpected thrills, and some humorous encounters. I don't wanna give them a lot of extra energy and power, so I'll just say 1) challenging departure, 2) microburst over Percha Dam State Park, 3) wildlife encounters a) indoors, and b) outdoors. I'll show you the aftermath at Percha next time. Spud is a tank, apparently, because by the time I ventured out, I could barely move the branches off her, and she is fine. Me? Only psychic trauma.

This is not my microburst. I thought you'd like to see the KAPOW!! it can deliver, and why going through one in a tent under a tree is something you might tell your Facebook friends about.

Exhilarating! Life-affirming! Opportunities for butt-tent purchase!

So, all is well. I'm well, my traveling friend is well, Spud is well. I've had fun being in and near Truth or Consequences and seeing Sue, Steve (thanks for the Reiki, Steve!), and Annie. It was just the thing to transition me back into solo living.

What it's like to live out of a Prius, and what's it's like not to.

I'm enjoying the best of Truth or Consequences. Comfy digs, snuggly kitties, a perfect blend of friends and solitude, and the walk-to-ableness of desirable hangouts. I walked-to and hung-out at Black Cat Books and Coffee this morning and indulged in both.

Flooding has subsided here. It took two lives while it stayed. 

The Rio Grande used to flow freely through here, where people now live. Rivers pretend to be tamed, but they have long memories.

Moral: guitars are a gateway instrument

Tina lived in T or C for a year, playing Scrabble. Now she's in Texas trying out gate-guarding.  

What's rowdier than four middle-aged women playing Scrabble? House plants.

Terry asked me about traveling in Spud: am I really doing that? what is my daily life like? and that seemed like a thing to talk about.

I haven't been living out of Spud for the past month because I've been housesitting here in Truth or Consequences. The timing was great for me. I'm comfortable. I've been able to enjoy friends and re-center myself. The home I'm in holds the spirit of the people who usually live here - it's peaceful and cozy and happy.

When I'm in Spud, my days are varied. It's easy for me to be in places that are interesting. I try to find a place for the night early-ish in the day, or at least have a place in mind. I like state parks and BLM campgrounds because I'm supposed to be there, so I'm comfortable and can put up Spud's Habitent. And they have toilets and often showers. I wander around. I ask people what they would tell me to see. I see those things. I find good books and squirrel them into empty spaces. I read them. I do crossword puzzles. I meditate. I take naps. Meditation ➪➪ nap.

I can get unwound and anxious if I think about the future, whatever that is. I can feel sad if I think about the past. Being here now is my favorite tool, and I use it for everything. Loose nut? Oh good, it's pliers. Becoming unmoored? It's a rope. Need attachment? It's a joiner. Too attached? It's a crowbar.

I feel joyous and grateful when I'm seeing new, beautiful things. My days are like that a lot.

When I take a notion, I pack up and move on. The packing up may take as much as five minutes, if I've scattered myself around.



There is thunder in the not-so-distance. Literally. I metaphor you not.

~~~~~

Get yourself a Thundershirt.

Bloggers getting mobile

 

Thanks, Andra. This pleases me.

I have a travelin' song! I'll play it for you later.

Turtle Ranch

I wasn't always a Duck. My other self is a tortoise. I relate to the tortoise. If I had a spirit guide, it would say DON'T TOUCH ME I WILL PEE OUT ALL MY WATER.

How the truck looked in the 1950's

The passenger side.

Cheryl is almost ready to leave. Get that body loaded on her rig, and she's outta here.

Work the rigor mortis.

Cheryl's rig is back from the rig doctor, and she got busy loading and organizing.

I got Spud's registration in the mail today, and I'm very relieved. I got the old stickum off, which was even more exciting.

I'm nervously waiting for my 12 volt computer charger. Then everyone can leave Las Cruces.







I think Cheryl's rig should have a name. What do you think?

Thanks for doing your Father's Day shopping here!

Packing an RV: two stories

While I'm parked here at Desert Diva's house in Las Cruces, New Mexico, life is like it is at your house. There is no camping here in the house. There is comfort and luxury. There is ahhh.

While we're both enjoying the luxury, we're both preparing for our summers. Cheryl has been glamping up her rig. She's breaking it to her house gently that she'll be gone for a while. There are go piles and stay piles, but the house is getting the message that it stays.

In my rig, the organizing principle is where is the bucket?

Spud is waiting (what looks like) patiently for me to be ready. Cheryl has that same look.

It feels like I've tamed the clutter in Spud. Bedding is contained, mostly. Clothing is re-packed and organized. The new window tinting I got before I left Tucson is nicely private, plus keeping the heat down. I have black-out curtains ready, and a black-out panel for the rear hatch window and triangle windows just anterior.

I have a chair and a patio. I have other stuff, too, but I have a chair and a patio. And a Habitent.

The basics of Spud's layout are taken from Suanne's experience.

Cheryl is waiting for a mechanic's appointment, and I'm waiting with her, in case I can be helpful. While we're waiting, we do stuff. Like, I notice that the upholstery has a better body than I do.

I don't know what they call this neighborhood, but I call it AWESOME.

I thought I should crop, but what in the world would I cut out? Not Buddy Christ, that's for darn sure.

Some of you will wonder what the writing says. You'll figure it out, then tell me, and I'll let you.

These pictures are from different houses in this neighborhood. I haven't even included all the awesome that I saw here.

Then I got Moosed.

This is a club that would not have me for a member, which makes me want them even more. The bartender was very sweet, and still made it clear I could not buy drinks, or potato chips, or enter the gambling area. I was there totally under the auspices of my girl-Moose friend.

Thank goodness they gave me a bracelet so I could use the bathroom myself.

Later, I wore the bracelet to Walmart. Naturally.

Rick has done a good job of explaining how Bloogle is consolidating its power. He was so convincing that I added a Google+ "encircle me" widget at the bottom. Not my bottom - cut it out.

~~~~~

Help improve my bottom line.