A huge weight lifted

We have done it!  We have made it through the school year!  The kids are done with traditional schooling, for as long as we all see fit.  Today was their last day, and I will not miss 6am.  There were days when I thought we wouldn't make it. 

We're getting down to the nitty gritty now. Tomorrow, junk removal guys will take away the big stuff we couldn't get rid of any other way. There's, again, a surprising amount of that.  The carpets in our house will be professionally cleaned, and we will get ourselves out of the second of the three bathrooms in our (former) house.  The process of this rears its head again and again.  This is truly not for the weak of constitution.  There are so many creature comforts to be abandoned. I already miss my dishwasher.  I had forgotten how many dishes a family of four could generate. Just think about it for a moment. Three meals a day for four people.  That's, at a minimum, four plates, a few miscellaneous bowls, whatever pots and pans you use for preparation and the silverware and utensils.  I am beginning what I am sure will be a lengthy love affair with my Instant Pot.  One pot, seven different ways to cook something.  I have passed the oh-my-goodness-it's-going-to-blow-up-and-kill-us-all stage of owning an electric pressure cooker.  Now, I just appreciate that it's only one thing to scrub clean. 

The projects - I mean, good grief!  They seem endless right now. My husband spent a good 90 minutes today putting an under-the-counter magnetic knife block in place.  One must have a certain tenacity and stubborn spirit to make this type of existence work.  I will readily admit that I don't have it.  15 minutes in to the knife thing, I would have called a handyman to come and do it for me.  I could not have chosen a better partner for this adventure.

Ta da!  I mean, it may not look amazing but until you have lived in a tiny space, you can not appreciate the space-saver that this is.  That I no longer have to pull these knives out of their boxes in order to use them is nothing short of Christmas-in-June for me. 

Although my husband did get me an anniversary gift (a battery-operated light that you can put in a wine bottle - and yes, it is super cool), I consider this knife block to be my real gift.  This knife block is the secret to our 14 year marriage.   

In a couple of days, we'll have our farewell picnic hosted by friends.  I truly thought I was okay with all of these "lasts" until I had coffee with a friend this week and almost started weeping in a strip mall Starbucks.  Just the sight of her was enough to send me.  

Sunday we will leave for the first big test of this motor home, on the road. We'll have no more convenient trips to the house for "real" toilets and showers, and no more full garbage bags stowed in the garage for easy pick up on Thursdays.  There will be no more quick trips to the house to do a load of laundry.  I wonder if there's a laundromat locator app...hmmm.

And of course, we begin homeschooling. We're not taking a break for summer.  By Monday, we will be in Rice Lake, Wisconsin where, I'm told, the Onion Factory lives.  They make onion rings there...need I say more? If there is no tour available, I am going to be so disappointed!  Rice Lake, in case you didn't know is also the home of a factory which make Western-style rifles.  How many industries can we learn about on this road trip?  How many subcultures can we discover? We are taking this opportunity to allow our kids to guide their own learning.  What are they interested in?  How do they like to study?  For me, this is the real adventure.   And I think it's finally starting!
 

When does the fun part start?

It has been another grueling couple of weeks of preparation and "lasts".  Ethan has been in dance for 6 years. Last night was his last banquet, and of course there were tears.  His teacher and owner of the studio awarded him a Certificate of Achievement entitled "I'll Miss You Like Crazy".  And I'm questioning everything. Is this going to ruin our childrens' lives?  What have we done? Are we crazy for pulling them away from everything they have ever known?  His tears triggered my own. 

Earlier in the day, my daughter had her last school performance. She was Black Dog in Treasure Island. She hugged her friends and I wondered if she was going to hate me for what we're doing.   She's known these girls since Kindergarten.

The house is not yet empty, so we're cleaning it out while at the same time trying to make the RV as livable as possible.  As I type, my computer is finally functional - for the first time in two weeks.  Meanwhile, we have sold 1 of 2 town homes and are going to leave our renters in 2 for as long as they like.  It's going to be tricky, but their situation is unique. We want to help them in any way that we can. 

This is my pattern. "I'll clean the kitchen. Well, I can't clean that until this stuff is out of here. We can't get this stuff out of here until we're done using the bathrooms in here.  And I can't get this other stuff out of here until so-and-so comes to claim it and pick it up.  And I definitely can't clean the floors until we're done tracking in and out of here carrying stuff out."  It's a helpless feeling.

The countdown is suddenly in the single digits.  I am running out of time, but I am incapable of finishing any single project. For a task-oriented person, this causes actual, physical pain.  I can not finish a single task, and my brain wants an escape.  There had better be a glittering rainbow of check marks at the end of this, or I'm afraid I'm going to dissolve into a blubbering heap.  I found a green Lego in an empty room today and just about lost my tenuous hold on composure. 

I try to console myself with the next thing that will make me glad.  I'll be glad when -
School is over.  We have 2 and half days to go!
The house is empty and clean.
We actually go somewhere instead of hanging out in a camper in our yard!

I'm ready for the fun part.  

Hello, Eczema, my old friend

The stress has decided to manifest itself in the physical world.  My hands look like a 13 year old's T-zone.  The little red bumps are worse than pimples, though, because they relentlessly itch.  This is a well-documented stress reaction of mine.   Hey, at least I have a crystal clear signal from my body that says, "STOP!" 

Stuff happened this week. A lot of it.  The estate sale happened. I don't know what I expected, but I do not feel sad.  I keep waiting for that, the sadness of loss.  "Alas and alack, my home is no more!"  But no, of course that's not how it is. Our home is now the RV. We took it with us.  And what is left after the estate sale madness (and madness, it absolutely was) is a shell of a house. For those looking to go this route, I'd say probably be dead first.  Then, it's totally fine when a team of people starts putting price tags on all of your belongings.  See, then it's all good when you have to be away from your house for two full days while they sell it all.  The way we did it was really taxing.  There are only so many things you can do, so many errands you can run.  The upside is that I got a new mattress topper.   The downside is that they did not sell everything.  Just a lot of things.  We now have the ominous job of going through what is left and either selling it ourselves (Craig's List, here we come), donating it or storing it.

We also finished getting Town home #1 cleaned up and ready to list this week. That was a three full days of cleaning.  The renters had not trashed the place or anything, but renters are different from owners.  There was some neglect and grime and that required elbow grease.   I found some new muscles that can be detected only by cleaning the floor behind a refrigerator. 

Meanwhile, we picked up the RV and started moving into it.  I'm just going to leave that there for now.  

And finally, it was mammogram time.  Many women can related to the stress of the call after a mammogram saying that additional pictures are needed.  It isn't a panicked, crisis type of stress. Rather, it's a low level hum, a persistent and nagging thought as one tries to talk oneself out of worrying.  "I'm sure it's nothing.  I'm fine. And if it's cancer, they're sure catching it early.  I don't feel sick at all.  So that's good.  And it's nothing, probably.  It's just a bad picture.  But if it is cancer, I really live close to a fantastic facility. Mayo is the best. I'll go there and I will be okay." And round and round it goes.  I went in Friday for the new pictures.  They took them. And then?  They wanted another one.   Now, it's cancer or at the very least a benign cyst.  I probably have to have it removed. They'll do a biopsy.  I might have to go through radiation or something, just to be safe.

"You are all clear. It is just overlapping tissue. You can go now." 

And then the relief floods through every cell and the realization of how much you've been carrying around weighs as you let it go.  Deep breath. 

And on we go. 

Speed bump

Mmmkay. Rough week about sums it up.  Good news or bad news?

The good news? We have apparently sold our house! I know! We haven't even listed our property yet, but there it is.  Our closest neighbors (who are currently renting) are coming over tomorrow night to basically seal the deal. So, I suppose I'm jumping the gun until we actually close.  But it looks like our house and land are in the hands of a very lovely couple.  Wow!  More about them later, because they truly are amazing people. But today is about something else. 

The bad news - and I say this with as much love as I can muster - is that we have been invaded. The estate sales company had the first of three staging days. And truly, not knowing what to expect here was a gigantic disadvantage.  Five people.  Five hours. Suddenly, my house is not my own.

They came. They rearranged. They priced. Everything. They put a price on our lives.  This is not a process for the faint of heart, the weak. I thought I could take it. But two hours in, I bailed. I was ready for wine at 4pm.  There are no words to describe this. I am literally sitting here, trying to decide how to articulate the reduction of one's LIFE.  I have actually seen this from the outside before, when someone passes away, dies.  The weekend after my sister's death, I found myself going through her clothes with my mother.  "Yes, that I'll take. That should be donated. This, that."  It was horrible and sickening, and the only way to get through something like that is not to think about what you're doing.  This is similar.  I understand now why people in this situation cry over a skirt. I read the blog of another woman, about to set sail with her family, as she wept over a skirt she had to give up. "I could take four, but I wanted five."  That is precisely how I feel now.  These items, a Christmas ornament here, a wine glass there, are not just things, right? They are memories that tie us to people, to memories, to our lives before today.   I was not at all prepared for the moment, even though I had tried, for a company to come in and put a price tag on my life thus far.  It was humbling and grating and, quite honestly, painful.

Knowing what I now know, I will do whatever I have to do to distract myself from this reality over the next week.  I will have lunch with friends. I will be away from my home, which is soon to be the shell where we once lived.  I will look forward.  If I could somehow describe the raw emotion I'm feeling tonight, because I know I will want to look back on this eventually, I am not sure I could do it justice. There is a feeling of sadness of course, but there is also a shame - shame, that I allowed these things to have such power.  Why do they mean anything at all?  They are nothing in the grand scheme. I want to look back on this in a year and be grateful for everything I had to leave behind in order to gain what I have gained. Freedom is more important than a skirt.  It may not feel that way today, but I know this to be true.  Freedom is the gift I am giving myself. I'm purchasing that gift with the things that have held me.  I've loved them and now I will let them go.

Trigger pulled

Well, wow! That happened.  We went out and just bought the first RV we actually saw face-to-face today.  We didn't really plan it that way...maybe that's obvious. But we drove about an hour and half to get to St. Cloud, MN, saw the only RV that Pleasureland had in our price range and just, well, bought it!  Who does that?  In the moment, I was thinking, "Yep, this is about right" and of course now I'm a little freaked out.  It's a 1998 Coachmen 33 footer. See? I'm already talkin' the talk.  We took it for a rather hilarious test drive in which my dear husband had his passengers bracing for turns against anything we could get our hands on.  He'll learn. RVs are apparently NOT cars. Who knew? They corner badly, in other words.

I think my hubby expected to be wowed by the one we would eventually purchase. But I was approaching it differently.  Is it decently kept?   Does it smell bad?  How's the engine?  Those were my priorities, possibly even in that order.  Could we live in it?  The thing about this one is that I could actually picture us in it. It has some of the things we want, not all. But the price and mileage were right.

We don't actually have it in our possession yet.  That comes later. The "techs" (I think this is fancy speak for mechanics) are going to give it a once over and fix a few cosmetic things first.  There's also a whistling noise that needs to be identified and fixed before the purchase is finalized. But then - yeah, we're RV owners!

For those who have not really kept up, we're trying the rarely attempted Turf to Surf method of retirement.  We will use our portable home for a year (or so) before switching to the sea.  If we hate it, and each other, after 3 months, we may have to reassess.  But for now, I'm delighted that we can start moving into our new home as the new one fades away.  The estate sale is a mere 3 weeks away. And I'd be lying if I said that the idea of coming back to an empty house after the sale is appealing in any way.  Somehow, sleeping in beds in the RV is far superior an idea than sleeping on mattresses in an otherwise empty house.

I'm not entirely sure how much influence recent events have had in the haste in this purchase. Probably very little, but I think it's worth mentioning.  Prince. Prince Rogers Nelson died this week. He was 57.  Our time here is short, my friends. If Prince can not live forever, then none of us can.  Take your goodies whilst you can.  So cliche, and yet...our hearts are newly broken by this loss and keeping the idea of shooting stars fresh in our heads. So, it is with the Purple One's love of life and of love itself in my head that I say - 

We are really doing this - holy cats!

Another level of "things are getting real"

My husband, Henry, is a computer programmer, a math head.  He likes things to be predictable, at least to a certain degree. And abrupt change does not sit well in his khaki and loafer world.  So when his current client told him they would be ending the contract (after he informed them of his early retirement) on April 15th, he might have been a tiny bit panicked.  As of this afternoon, that is four more days of going in to work after a 30 plus year career.  I think the shock has mostly worn off for him, so now the recovery can begin.  I'm not sure how long that stage will last.

I, of course, am absolutely delighted!  This means he can help more in getting the house ready to sell, which will ease my stress level somewhat.  I've been on "11" for awhile now.  But last night, I actually slept until my alarm went off at 6:30am.  I don't remember the last time I wasn't up before that.

We are closing in on what we're bringing and what we're selling.  Now, if we could just figure out what to do with the kitty cat.  We can not bring her with us, though we seriously considered it.  It may have been possible but for the weeks away from the RV that we already have scheduled.  From July 22-29, we'll be on an Alaskan cruise.  And then from the 29th-August 5th we'll be chartering a monohull in Puget Sound.  We can not leave her alone in an RV for two straight weeks.  Then there's the issue of her personality. She's always been an outdoor/indoor cat, heavy emphasis on the outdoors. She loves to hunt and regularly brings us what I can only describe as decapitated gifts.  More than once, I have been startled by one of these presents. I'm sure she's confused by my lack of gratitude.  We'll think of something, I'm sure.  Things seem to work out just exactly the way they're supposed to.

In the next post, I'll share our summer plans and route across America (and parts of Canada) in our extreme RV adventure.

But back to the countdown.  Henry has four more days of work. The kids have about six more weeks of school.  We have about three and a half weeks until the estate sale.  It's starting to feel like this might actually happen! 

On to Plan B

Well, that didn't work. 

A big piece of our financial picture fell through about a month ago.  Thus, there has been much procrastination in blog writing.  In a nutshell, something we needed to happen didn't.  And that means we now have to sell not only our house but our two rental properties as well.

I had to tell our renters, all fabulous people and exceptional tenants, to vacate by May 15th. May I never, ever have to do that again.  It was truly painful. 

And now the real fun can begin.  Our timeline has sped up as a result of this, instead of slowing down. The townhomes and the house will all be listed on or about June 1.  My gut says they'll all sell pretty quickly.  As soon as they do, we are buying an RV (yes, this is new!) and living in it while we try to figure out the boat we want/can afford.

Holy 180, Batman!  The RV discussion is a stroke of genius, if you ask me. I wish I could claim it was my idea. Basically, it buys us time. 

Meanwhile, I have been putting my hands on every single item in our home and throwing it into one of three piles; stuff to sell, stuff to store at grandma's house and stuff to throw out.  It is painstaking and, of course, difficult.  Exhibit A: Below is a photo of beautiful, Lenox crystal wine glasses that are now discontinued. I have 8 of them.  And yeah, they're being sold.  And yeah, I'm going to get for a fraction of what I paid for them.  If nothing else, this process has assured me that stuff is stuff.  It's not worth what you think it is. And it's not worth paying retail, trust me. I will never buy retail again. If I need stuff, I'm heading to an estate sale!

I've also hired an estate sales company to handle the glorified garage sale mid-May. That way, our house can be largely empty as we try to get it ready to show.  We have to paint everything, refinish our hardwood floors and basically beautify the dear, old girl. 

I alternate between feeling like we have all the time in the world and feeling something like, "Ohmygoodness, it's March WHAT?  We are not going to make it!"  Yeah, it's fun. 

Trying to keep my eye on the prize.