A very eventful month

Wow!  If I think back to the last blog entry, it seems like it should have been months and months ago. That's what happens when events crowd together in rapid succession.  After the Wisconsin tour, we spent the weekend visiting friends and catching up on the house business.  Monday, we took the RV in to the shop for what we thought would be a couple of days.  We didn't get it back until Friday, the day we were to leave the Twin Cities.  In the interim, we saw friends, closed on the house and the townhouse, finished cleaning out the house and wasting a lot of time in a hotel room.  Finally, Friday arrived and we picked up the RV just as rush hour was starting. Now, if you haven't tried to get out of Minneapolis on a Friday afternoon, allow me to explain.  There are two and sometimes three lanes of traffic.  Everyone is trying to get to their cabins or simply home from work so that they can go to their cabins.  The maximum speed from 2:30pm until about 8pm is 30 miles per hour.  There might be a trickster stretch of 65, but that's an anomaly and soon corrected.

As we maneuvered through this maze in our newly fixed RV, we resigned ourselves to a long drive.  We braked for a particularly slow section and the rig started to shudder.  Hard.  It stopped and we resumed, though a little more cautiously this time.  It happened again.  And then again.  And we were now the people on the side of the road that others look at and say, "Wow, that would suck."  The thing is, though, it really didn't. Not really. I mean, we were at home, after all. We had a side of the road sing along and hastily packed a bag before calling my mom to come and rescue us (along with a really big tow truck).  Funny, we had just signed up for Roadside Assistance at the hotel a couple of days before.  We made it through Wisconsin without issue, but suddenly 60 miles from home we needed the tow truck.

It's hard to feel too sorry for us.

So, what's next?  Well, this until we hear from the new shop.  They have tested the RV and found nothing wrong with it.  You'd think this would be happy news, but I'd actually rather they pinpoint the issue and fix it.  I don't really want to be driving up a mountain pass in Montana when this happens again. Meanwhile, my mom's place is pretty amazing.  There's food, a place to sleep and a free view.  Thinking that we have to be somewhere is going to be a hard habit to give up.  We're working on it this week.

Whirlwind Tour of Wisconsin - Check!

Our first major test of the RV is at an end and it performed.  It didn't perform well, but it did get us home safely. I give credit where credit is due.  It goes in on Monday for a complete tune up and not a moment too soon.  Apparently, if you let it sit somewhere for a couple of days, it is reluctant to get moving again...kind of like me that way.  I can definitely get into the habit of lazing about.   But it did eventually get us back to Minnesota.  We covered over 800 miles on this trip, so I think the guts of this rig are A-Ok. 

There was a tremendous amount of socializing and this coming week looks to be much of the same. We'll be saying goodbye to many dear friends.  But our hope is that with technology, we can stay in touch.  With so much chatting, I'll admit to longing for some down time.  I do wonder.  How many days and nights with just the four of us does it take for me to long for a chat with a friend?  I guess we're going to find out. 

We are planning on being back here next summer. A couple of people thought we should return in time for Christmas.  Ha! First of all, the RV lumbers along at 60 mph maximum.  I think Henry pushes it to 65 sometimes and it whines like a four-year-old.  "Ugh, do I have to?" 

It takes a long time to get anywhere. Also, avoiding Minnesota in the winter is one of the reasons we're doing this, so thanks but no thanks.  However, it's hard to beat the summers here.  This is the Wisconsin State Park we stayed in last night:

Willow River State Park

It's idyllic, no?  I was reminded of a Robert Frost poem Ethan's 5th grade class recited at their Moving Up (to middle school) ceremony a couple of short weeks ago.  

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

You see, most of what we saw and did in Wisconsin was known to us.  The people we visited and the places we stayed were not new.  But at the end of the trip, we stayed here - and explored.  Going forward, most everything we do will be forging into the unknown.   I foresee many beautiful places along the journey, new friends and lots more exploration.

...I hope there will be laundromats.   Exploring, as it turns out, is sweaty business. 

A Whirlwind Tour of Wisconsin

Nine days, eight siblings and spouses/significant others, four towns, and assorted nieces and nephews.  We have been busy, and my brain is numb!  Every day has been full to brimming, and a few things are starting to shake out. 

The RV is plenty big.  Really! We have plenty of space and there are plenty of ways to get away from each other if a break is needed.  The cooking, though we've done very little of it on this trip, is a cinch.  Ethan makes his own eggs with ease, and I'm already used to doing dishes by hand.  In fact, instead of hating it, I find it comforting.  It allows me a sense of accomplishment as well.  

The RV is no fun to drive. Really!  You might think how nice it would be to get up and move around during a long road trip. But the reality, in this RV at least, is that the moment you are released from your seat belt and on your feet you are longing to sit down and put it back on. To say that you are unstable while moving about is a gross understatement.  Sailboats on the ocean are flatter than this beast when moving.  And every bump on the road is shimmying up your spine at 55 miles an hour.  This is not a smooth ride. I'm starting to even question whether it has anything for shock absorption but its own weight.  

A couple of the highlights of the trip!  When we arrived in Hawkins, Wisconsin to see Henry's mother, about the first thing he did was drive it into a soft spot in the yard. I chuckled, though only quietly to myself, (I'm not a complete idiot) because I had suggested asking where to park.  But no no, we don't ask such things.  We simply do!  This is the result:

Five hours later, we were out but not without a lot of elbow grease. Ultimately, it came down to knowing someone with a tractor.   I hate to think what would have happened without Henry's brother. Actually, all of his siblings are amazing.  If one of them needs help, they are on it. And they really don't quit until it's done.  I'm a bit different.  I took one look at the above and reached for my phone to call a towing company.  This, "oh no, we can do it ourselves" thing is foreign to me.  And in case it wasn't already clear, my own elbow grease was nowhere near this disaster.  I was inside with a book.

We have been welcomed everywhere we've been, and I'm so grateful to Henry's family.  Because of them, we have gotten to see the inner workings of a dairy farm, the Wisconsin State Capitol and an amazing greenhouse. Our kids are getting a fun, interactive education.

And then, there was this.

This is why we are doing what we're doing.  A random "overlook" on a highway exit sounded appealing, so we just stopped. And it was spectacular.  If you have wondered why we sold all of our stuff, why we quit our jobs or why we are willing to live in an RV, this sums it up.  We felt like stopping.  So we did. 

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.