The Home Stretch

Now that the intense social whirlwind that is us visiting the Midwest has come to a close, I can finally gather my thoughts. It's been so long since my last entry, because we have been visiting. And visiting some more. And then visiting some more. I think we crammed in as much family/friend time as we possibly could, and now we're back on the road. The kids have left for camp, so I have a moment to breathe.

We are almost done with this chapter. In a little over a month, we will be in South Carolina, where we will stay for the foreseeable future. And my overriding thought is gratitude. I am so lucky to have been able to do this for the past three years. Our travels have taken us all over our country, and we've made some incredible memories.  There have been struggles, of course, but thankfully there's been nothing that we couldn't handle. I have thought a lot about gratitude lately, and how it relates to happiness. I think they're the same thing. 

It's so easy to slip into dissatisfaction, isn't it? I'm certainly guilty of it. Gosh, this kitchen is tiny. Ugh, I hate having to wash our clothes at a laundromat. Great, I broke another French Press. The latter is always a dire emergency and means a shopping trip immediately. Surely there's a Wal-Mart nearby. I need coffee! But I digress.

It's much harder to hold onto the big picture when the little inconveniences of this small, unstable place are what I see. But when I look at the view outside of our window right now and think back on everywhere we have been, I am reminded that my needs are very simple. And everything else is a bonus, only enhancing my life. 

So when my impatience to "get there" or "be done with the driving" kicks in, I am striving in each moment to take a look around my tiny house and notice my freedom. I notice my luxuries, like our air conditioning, our fireplace and, yes, like my 3rd French Press...I really should invest in a stainless steel one. 

Do It Because It Scares You

I recently heard this advice given to a friend contemplating a change in career. She wants to jump ship, but she's afraid of leaving behind the security of her current job. And the advice was, "Do it because it scares you."

...I don't get it.  I mean, not really. If I did everything I was afraid to do, I'd jump in a swamp where I know crocodiles are plentiful. I don't think facing a challenge solely because you're afraid of it is quite where the mentor was going. But if we scale it back a bit, could we agree that the advice could instead be, "Don't miss the opportunity just because you're scared"? That's closer to home for me. I try really hard not to make decisions based in fear - which is why I found myself modeling in a recent fashion show.

I think it's pretty well-established how I dislike being the center of attention. In fact, I wrote another entire blog entry on it and now admit freely what an introvert I am. To say that modeling is not in my comfort zone is like saying that North Dakota gets a little chilly in the winter time.

So when I was first asked if I would model, I emphatically and without hesitation replied "NO. I mean, no thank you." (because I always try to be polite) But then I was asked again and, here's the kicker,  was told that this would really help because someone had backed out.

Now, if you met the lady asking, you'd see why I had to reverse my stance. She's possibly the nicest person I've ever met and she was shouldering the burden of organizing this event of her own free will.  Who am I to make life harder for her?  Then too, I thought, you can't say no just because you're scared, you chicken. So, I said yes with, I'm sure, a look of utter horror on my face.

Unfortunately, saying you're going to do something and then actually going through with it are two different things. Leading up to the day of the show,  I had nightmares about all of the bad things that could happen. I could kick off one of my shoes and be unable to find it again. I don't wear flip flops for this reason, but I'd be wearing them in the show. Obviously, forgetting to put on an outfit came up. I woke up from that one in a cold sweat, but really, how ridiculous. Someone would surely stop me before I got all the way to the runway and suggest I put on a dress.  I obsessively worried about my big toe, which is damaged and can't look good in a sandal. I fretted about my hair as I don't even own a hair dryer anymore. I cursed myself for not keeping makeup as well.

A couple of days before the event, we had to go try things on and that part brought the fear home. Now it was real. I knew exactly what I'd be wearing and how exposed I would be.

It doesn't really help that my body has changed so dramatically over the last year. It's for the better, but it's new and weird. My body image has not kept pace. I still see myself about 30 pounds heavier than the scale says I am. And all of that would be on display? I resolve to stop eating until three days later. (An aside: this did not happen)

Anywho! The day arrives. The waiting is over. I do the best I can with Mother Nature's hair dryer and the mascara and eye liner I refuse to give up. Don't judge me, but I painted my nails and the big toe got some extra to cover up the imperfect pedicure. Poor toe, it's not its fault, after all. A little lipstick and I go for it! Well, not quite.  The models get to eat AND DRINK first, so I go for a bottle of the red liquid courage.  I'm completely terrified at this point, but there's no going back. People are counting on me now. There's an official list and everything! I figure I could faint, but that's probably the only way out of this now. I take deep breath and remind myself that I know these ladies. They're nice people and won't be mean to me. Once changed, I feel even worse. The fainting is not just an idea anymore. It might actually happen. I realize that I have either had too much or too little wine. I feel a little dizzy but I'm far too aware of it.

As I'm standing in line, waiting to hit the runway, I'm told there's a pattern to walk. NOW they tell me?  I go into serious panic mode and frantically repeat the instructions and ogle the other models to  see what they are doing. I mean, what if I had been first?! Clearly, in their wisdom, no one was going to let that happen. Unfortunately, there's a lot of waiting at this stage and that allows me time to ramp up the insanity within.  I try to remember yoga breathing, but it's no good.  I'll be lucky if I don't vomit on these beautiful clothes. And yes, that was in one of the nightmares.

Honestly, the first three outfits are a blur to me. I remember pasting a smile on my face and moving through the room, changing quickly and getting back out there. It's a blessing, really,  that I had an out of body experience.   I am there, but nothing is registering. I see but don't see the people.  I know they are there and smiling kindly at me, even giving me thumbs up, but I really can't engage. I had to be told later that my husband and daughter had come to show their support.

And then, blissfully, the wine started to kick in a bit. The last three outfits were more fun. I was a bit looser,  the smile more genuine. Of course, I was also thinking that it was more than halfway over, which definitely helped.  And then,  just like that, it's over and I'm back in my own clothes. I didn't lose a shoe or fall down or even throw up! Success!

I can't say that I have bettered myself through this experience, but at least I did it and I did not die (I mean, it could happen and, in fact, did in one of my nightmares).  I'm not eager to get back out there and have all of the eyes in a room on me, but I did not let the fear stop me. Oh! And I got a huge discount at the store of the sponsor, which resulted in a nifty shopping spree. I wouldn't have gotten that any other way.

The moral of this story is to try things not because you will be changed by them, necessarily. But rather, do them because you won't know what you might have gotten if you don't. I got a bit more confidence in my appearance and a great new pair of shoes - instead of the regret of not doing something that really helped someone out just because I was nervous. The payoff at the end of this experience was that I did something I was terrified to do. And now, if I'm asked if I want to model for someone I can emphatically say,  "No, thank you."

Winter in an RV

One of the key points in leaving Minnesota was to avoid cold temperatures. But despite driving about as far south as we could get in Texas, it's 41 degrees today with winds out of the north at 20 miles per hour.  Winter takes on a whole new set of exciting side effects when you live in an aluminum box. Here are my top 5 reasons why living in an RV is better in the winter:

1) Rare sights! Behold, the sideways palm tree! They bend but don't break...yet. Book your tickets now to see these all over southern Texas!

2) Family togetherness! Feel like you're not getting enough time with your loved ones? Are your teens distant and unresponsive to affection?  Well, forget the affection, but you will see them a LOT more if you live in an RV in the winter. In fact, they will always be there, every time you turn around. And when they're playing with their friends online, because no amount of distance can stop them, you will get to hear every ear-piercing, mind-numbing shriek of excitement as their Minecraft village is destroyed by zombies!

3) Promotes imagination! Your brain will instinctively kick into protection mode and will transport you to warm and luxurious surroundings.  You can visit Bali, Hawaii, even the Maldives, all from the comfort of your 4 square feet of bedroom space. Having an electronic device with search capabilities is key to enhancing this practice.

4) Closer to nature!  You will develop a new appreciation for each gust of wind as it rocks your entire house. It's not enough to hear the fury of nature's symphony.  Immerse yourself in this interactive experience as each gust of wind allows you to, in great detail, confront your insignificance in the face of the overwhelming power of the Earth. 

5) Sleep deprivation can result in cool hallucinations! Because the wind will either keep you up all night OR wake you violently every 34 minutes, you will be able to let go of the binding chains of reality. Are you simply daydreaming or can you actually see air now?  Perhaps you are a superhero!

There you have it! Now, sell that house and go out and buy your box!

PS - all tongue in cheek. I'm incredibly grateful to be here, with my family, warm and secure.

We have our decision!

After a lot of exploring, discussing and debating, we had narrowed down our options for permanent residency to three locations: Port Aransas, TX, Tampa, FL and Bluffton, SC.  We realize fully how lucky we are to have options like these and practice gratitude daily. We knew we wanted to be close to water, but so many other factors came into play. Schools for the kids, surrounding area, culture and easy access to an airport for friends and family were some of these. Weather, of course, has also been a consideration.

All that said, we can say with clarity that South Carolina is where we want to put down roots! That phrase is intentional, as the live oak trees actually factored heavily into the decision.  We didn't realize how much we missed the trees of the Midwest until we hit Savannah, Georgia. There's something very welcoming and soothing about them. So, even though it's a bit colder there than in, say, Tampa Bay, the trees won us over.

So! Now, we are trying to figure out how to get there. Even though we promised ourselves that we were done RVing and racing around the country, we have allowed a few fun obligations to overtake that plan.  To give ourselves a summer in Minnesota, we've decided to stay here, in Port A, until April 15th and then make our way north. The idea is to be in MN and Wisconsin for a graduation, a fitness celebration, and a family reunion before heading to New Hampshire. The kids will be in camp again in July-August, so we will stay there for a month or so. And then, we'll drive down to SC.

The easiest thing for us might just be to buy an RV spot while we look for a permanent residence. Our kids getting enrolled in school, changing our residency and renewing our licenses will take precedence over moving. Once all of that shakes out, we'll figure out the housing situation.

This was not an easy choice, I'll admit. I would have been just as happy to leave the RV in a ditch along a TX highway and drive straight to SC,  but that seemed a bit impractical.

So that's our update!

And now, if you were curious about the fitness celebration, allow me to explain further. We all got a bit chunky and unhealthy doing this whole drive across America adventure. You would think not. You would think we'd be hiking all the time and exploring caves and such. But the reality has been that on travel days, we eat whatever fast food we can find. And because of the pace we set for ourselves, there were an awful lot of travel days. So a few months ago, we issued ourselves a challenge. It wasn't a "let's lose weight" thing, though that was a side effect, but more of a "let's get healthier" thing. Below are photos of the "before" stage where we were all just kind of eating whatever fit in our mouths.

That was late last summer (2018). We started by just incorporating more salads and less meat into our diets. And as we went, we got more and more into plant-based eating. It was easy. Many people aren't going to believe me when I say this, but I don't miss greasy hamburgers. Anyway! Here we are a couple of days ago. I think Ethan is the most dramatic. He dropped 20 pounds. I'm down almost 30. Erin is the same, but she has cut out a LOT of sugar from her diet. Henry has lost 25 pounds or so. But, way more important than the weight loss is that we all feel better - like a LOT better - more energy, fewer aches and pains.

The agreed upon reward for this transformation was at least part of the summer in MN! We're happy to say that we have to pay up. See you in May, Minneapolis!

Our Worst Day of Travel

9am: We are ready to go! I'm particularly excited, because I have been counting down how many long days in the truck we have left. Two! Only two more travel days until we are done with this madness-I mean, this adventure. And we have this leaving thing down to a science. I've already gently coaxed the kids to get moving and they are doing their jobs with cheerful countenances.  What? You weren't there. I can say what I want.

The weather is not cooperating. It's sprinkling and supposed to start raining in earnest in a bit, but we will be on the road before it gets too bad. And then the radar shows us driving out of it within the hour. No big deal.  (This is foreshadowing in case it wasn't obvious)

My pep talk to myself started last night and continues this morning. I'm going to eat healthy today, because I'm doing so well!  I'm down about 15 pounds since we started this plant-based eating thing. And I only have another 15 to go. Salad for lunch, and I'm ready. Ha! I laugh in the face of hunger and temptation. Ha, I say! Nothing can break my iron will (more foreshadowing - I'm getting good at this).

My last order of business is bringing in the slideouts. And a one and a two and a - ummm. Hmmm. The slideout for our bedroom did not budge nor make a sound. I mean, not even a clicking noise.

The next thing I do is what any rational human being would do. I try what has worked in the past. So I push the button a dozen more times. Then, I stare at it.  Then, I push it a few more times. Nothing. Well, I have done my part. I tell Henry to fix it.

Henry immediately springs into problem-solving mode and checks all of the fuses and connections -that he knows about. This takes about 5 minutes and he tries it again. Still nothing. Well. So much for leaving today. I call 3 mobile repair RV places. As previously mentioned in this blog, these rarely work out. It will be Friday before one can get to us.  Another one very kindly offers to try to get to us sometime this afternoon. We may end up being at their mercy. I start thinking outside the box and go for youtube. Surely, we are not the first people to encounter this issue. There are a bunch of videos about how to bring it in manually. Except not the one we have. So I go outside and check in all of the front and side compartments. I tell Henry that it looks like there is another connection. He stares at me for a minute, gets up and goes out. It is now raining in earnest. He yells at me to try it. Nothing. He says try it again. I do, and incredibly, the slideout moves and we are ready to roll! He gives me all the credit, but really I know that it's the magic of his brain.

10:30am: We are outta here! So it's a little later than we thought, but it's okay. We should still be there before dark. The radar still shows us driving out of the rain in an hour or so. And I'm still not hungry! Amazing.

10:50am: We all hear and feel a bump but nothing major. We ignore it.

11am: We are still trying to get out of Dallas, when a truck slowly passes us. The passenger has his window down, in spite of the rain. Hahaha, how silly.  Except he's signaling to us that we have a problem. Oh. I guess he's not that silly then.  We pull over on what seems to me like a really crazy stretch of highway. Cars are zipping by at 70mph. This is the only truly terrifying part of the day for me, as Henry and his magic brain get out of the car and investigate the problem. I'm sure he's going to be run over. He isn't, but I can't quite shake the stress of that. He informs us that not only is our tire blown, but it's shredded.

Okay! I go into efficiency mode and call roadside assistance. No problem. Be there in 45 minutes. Well, it's Dallas, we say. That seems like a long time, but it's a big city.

This is where my ability to check out of reality becomes a Super Power. Don't worry, I use this for good, not evil. I tell the occupants of the car that we are warm and dry and have electricity AND internet. What more can we want?  Be grateful, I say. I then shut down all external function and do jigsaw puzzles and play solitaire.

11:30am: There is no sign of the tow truck. Henry calls again. Yes, right, he's on his way but it's going to be longer than he thought.

We decide to wait a bit longer. For the first time, I notice that I'm more than a little bit hungry.

Jigsaw. Solitaire. I then belatedly realize that I could also be reading as we are at a standstill. I can't read when the car is moving, but this I can do. Erin and I traipse through the rain and tall grass on the side of the road to use the RV's, ahem, facilities and I grab a book. My shoes and socks are wet all the way through when we get back to the truck. No problem, say I! It's fine, just an inconvenience. I congratulate myself for my ability to take all of this in stride.

12:30m: No sign of the tow truck guy, so we decide to try to limp toward the nearest exit. This goes well and we stop in a gas station parking lot. Tow truck guy is informed of our new location and he says he will be there in half an hour...or so. We're all hungry now.

1pm: Nope, he's not here. I'm ravenous by now and also working really hard at staying positive. Ethan is starving and says so, vehemently, every 2-6 minutes. I can see a McDonald's, so I make the executive decision to go on foot for vittles. I commandeer Erin to be my back up. Ethan is told to stay behind and "help" his dad wait for the repair guy.

1:30pm:  I had a Big Mac. Don't judge me. I think it was delicious, or would have been had I stopped shoveling it my face long enough to taste it.

1:45pm: The guy shows up! Omg, we can hardly believe it and practically weep with gratitude.  He fiddles around near the tire for awhile and then announces that he doesn't have the right size tools for this job.

...

He wants to go and buy them, because (and I'm quoting now) "I'll probably need them anyway."  You think? You think you'll need tools for your job? As a repairman?  I barely refrain from saying this out loud. After all, he still seems like our best shot for getting out of here.

Off he goes.

2pm: I go into the gas station and get a whole bunch of candy. It's a blur. I eat some/all of it. I don't know.

2:35pm: A tow truck pulls up and a guy gets out. It's not our guy! What the heck? Ah, we get it. The other guy called in back up. This new guy greets us and then gets to work. As he's fixing the tire, Tow Truck Guy #1 shows up and watches him. No sign of the newly purchased tools.

3pm: It is fixed! WHEW! We're okay. This is going to be fine. We thank them both profusely (especially the second guy) and we are on the road!

It is pouring like crazy, but the radar shows that we should drive out of this in a couple of hours. Great! We will be there by 9pm.

3:01pm: It's rush hour. In Dallas. I check out. Jigsaw puzzle. Solitaire. I can still read. That's how slowly we are moving.

4:30pm: We are leaving Dallas! Woohoo! Okay, so we'll be there around 10. Or so. That's fine! We'll still wake up in Galveston tomorrow morning. I call ahead to the RV park to tell them we will be a late arrival. The rep is so competent and friendly that I doubt his ability to live in the same dimension at Tow Truck Guy #1. I fall all over myself thanking him for his ability to do his job.

5:30pm: Everyone else wants to stop to eat. I, on the other hand, feel the Big Mac sitting in my stomach like a lump of wet sand in the bottom of a plastic bucket. It's sloshing around and generally making me nauseous. But we find a DQ and I have a salad. Everyone else seems revived. It is still pouring.

7pm: Still raining. Henry is tempted to just stop for the night. It's dark and we're all exhausted.  But radar says we will driving out of it in 20 minutes. We are all getting more and more annoyed with each other. The kids have started bickering, so I order them to look out their windows without speaking for 10 minutes. Of course, it is dark and it's raining, so this turns out to be a worse punishment than usual. Jigsaw. Solitaire.

7:21pm: Still raining. Radar says we'll driving out of it in 20 minutes. I'm holding it together, but barely. Maybe it's not a Super Power after all. Maybe long drives are my Kryptonite. I giggle maniacally at how funny this is, but I manage to stop when I realize I am dangerously close to an all out fit.

7:42pm: Still raining. In fact, I think it's coming down harder now. The storm appears to be shifting directly into our path. Radar says we're almost out of it, though.

7:48pm: Ethan asks what smells. Henry snaps back, "Your butt" and I feel something snap like a rubber band inside my brain.  A half snort/chuckle escapes my mouth and I'm off. Those who know me well will understand what happens next. I start laughing and Can. Not. Stop. This is akin to a tiny and mirthful panic attack. Henry glances at me, sees what is happening and rolls his eyes without saying anything.  Makes me laugh harder.

7:53pm: I am exhausted from the laughing fit and can do nothing more than stare disconsolately out the window as Ethan continuously asks if I'm okay.

8:45pm: Henry swears that if it does not stop raining soon, we will pull into the next hotel we see. The radar says we will drive out of it any minute now, honey.

9:30pm: We finally drive out of the rain. We don't actually believe it at first, because we can all still see and hear it in our imaginations. But it finally sinks in that we've left the storm behind us. I'd cheer, but I'm too tired.

10:30pm: We arrive!  Henry drives over the grass getting into our spot. No one cares. Thank goodness it's a pull through. No tricky backing into a spot in the dark. Yay! We stop the car. But then Henry tells me that it's not quite right. Could I just back it up 3 feet? I give him a look that really should have turned him to stone on the spot. But, well, that isn't my Super Power. I back it up. We set up and get inside at which point he tells me that it was probably better where it was the first time.  He is lucky to be alive.

There you have it! In the grand scheme of things, it could have been so much worse. No one was injured in the making of this horrific day. We were always safe (well, except for stopping on the highway).

Epilogue: We have now completed our FINAL long drive in the RV.  We arrived in Port Aransas, TX this afternoon after a completely incident-free trip! We will be here for three months and then? Well, we don't know! We'll be using our time here to make that decision.

The Shower Crisis of 2018

Granted, it was not on a scale such as the Cuban Missile of 1962, but I'm going to call it a crisis anyway.

Day One: The shower is draining more slowly than usual. I am standing in about half an inch of water. And to be clear, I don't take long showers. I live in an RV, and the grey water tanks are not conducive to 30 minute showers. And even if I didn't live in an RV, I don't like to prune.  I digress.  

Henry investigates by pulling the drain out and discovering what can only be described as a tube of hair, approximately 8 inches long. Completely grossed out. Can not discuss further. He continues to plunge and fishes up a plastic cone that I don't think was supposed to come out. I'm proven right when the smell of days-old grey water comes wafting into the bathroom.  Turns out that cone? Stops the odor from backing up into the living space. Roger that.

In this process, Henry discovers that the shower is also, in fact, leaking. Super. Shower now off limits. 

Day Two: After hours of first locating and then trying in vain to repair a hairline crack in the pipe, Henry resorts to calling a mobile RV repairman. This, only to discover that he will not travel this far. ...I did mention that he's a MOBILE repairman, right? Okay, just making sure that came across.  

Henry sitting very still, head down, for approximately five full minutes before admitting defeat.  

New plan - try again to repair it himself by purchasing new pipe at Home Depot. Meanwhile, we have no usable shower. We have two teenage-ish children living in close quarters with us. Off to the campground showers we go! Because the alternative is too offensive to my olfactory senses to contemplate. 

Day Three: We went to both Lowe's and Home Depot with poor result. No matching tube can be located. Drove to an RV parts store. Competence at last! They gave Henry all of the correct pieces...except the necessary glue. Back to Lowe's for a quick side trip where glue was procured! Upon arrival at home, Henry glued and cut and cut and glued without mangling his body in any way. Usually, these projects have some injury inherent in the process. Tomorrow, he shall restore all of the pieces to their original locations and bask in the glory of his success! 

Day Four: Ready to install.  The parts have been pre-glued. It is 95 degrees and humid but (and I quote) "This should only take a minute." Ethan's help has been enlisted this time, so much complaining ensues. He is supposed to hold the drain in place while Henry tightens it underneath the RV.  

10 minutes go by with little progress and abundant cursing. 

Ethan has been told to go to his room and not help anymore.

It leaks. And I mean, a lot. It's no longer a hairline crack but instead a pint size waterfall. Water is pouring out like there's nothing at all between it and the Earth with which is is trying to reunite via the floor of our camper. 

Henry claims he is giving up and informs us all that we no longer have a shower.  Campground showers only from now on!  I am unfazed as I am intimately familiar with this phase of my husband's problem solving process. 

Update:  Henry is sitting on the bathroom floor, thinking. 

Day Four (cont...): Henry went outside and then came inside several times. I want to say at least 7.  He just came in and said we have a shower! Success!  

He is very, very pleased with himself.  There was an explanation about what was actually the problem, but I've already forgotten what it was. 

There you have it - the glamorous post retirement that is our lives as we venture into lands unknown. It was only a warm up, however, for our worst day of travel yet.  Stay tuned...

Buckle up, this one is a little bumpy

I'm an open book sort of person. I will talk about just about anything, with anyone.  Exhibit A: This blog. All anyone has to do is to go back and read it from the beginning to see a map of my soul. I don't really have "taboo" topics, though I keep a lot of things off of social media.  In person, I will talk about retirement, religion, politics, sex and whatever else you'd like to discuss. This has served me well in terms of my careers both in radio and as a dog trainer.  Being willing to discuss whatever someone else brings to the table or has questions about is not just about espousing opinions, you see. It's about something much more important. It's about listening without judgment.

Let me explore that idea bit further. I've come to believe that truly listening to another person is (or maybe always has been) a rare find. It is not about just abstaining from interruption while someone else is talking. It's even more than hearing someone else speak, registering their opinion and then throwing in your own.  It's about connection. It's about hearing not just what is actually being said, but also how you can understand someone better because of their point of view. It's not just what they said.  It's about trying to understand why they said it.  In radio, as in theater training, a co-host or guest may throw out a topic. If I were to refuse to discuss it or become offended, the show grinds to a halt. Trust me when I say, in terms of dead air, uncomfortable silence is not a fun feeling. In dog training, owners were sharing their lives with me and often that would come with embarrassing confessions.  I had to be willing to discuss the most personal aspects of their lives without condemning their mind set or actions. If I closed the door on an owner who, for example, had hit their dog in anger, then I would not be able to help them change their behavior and improve their situation.

There are also times in which this trait has absolutely gotten me in trouble. I may say things that others people choose to be offended by.  To those people, I would say - You don't know me at all. If I'm talking to you about how we retired early and asking you about your plans, for example, I am not judging you. I'm sharing our story and attempting to connect to you through it.  If I'm talking to you about politics, I am not saying your choices were wrong. I'm saying, let's see where our common ground might be. And can I become closer to you for understanding your decisions? Because that would be my goal.

Listening without judgment. It's a big concept. It's probably too big for this blog, actually. But as this journey comes to an end and we try to figure out what we are going to do next, I've been asking people a lot of questions. Why do you live here or there? And where would you live if you could? And when might you retire and what does that look like for you?  I have had these conversations with dozens of people in the last two years. Because of the openness I have found in most of them, we are considerably closer to making decisions than we were when we started. I am grateful for that.

In terms of the larger conversations, like politics, I would hope that we could all learn to listen a bit more openly to what others are saying underneath the words.  We don't have to agree in order to be sympathetic. We don't even have to like each other to recognize that our personal experiences have shaped us into different people with different points of view.  I prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt, trust in their motives, rather than condemn them or think them inferior in some way. And I would be so grateful if the people in my life would give me that same benefit of the doubt. I'm an intensely curious person by nature. I'm just trying to hear you, connect to you, and get to know you.

Since this is such a heavy topic for this blog, I'll end on a lighter note. I am so profoundly grateful to have been able to take this journey, to meet friends and family along the road that we would not have seen otherwise. It has been incredibly comforting to see friendly faces amid so much uncertainty. Our home is 400 square feet of neverending mobility. There have been few constants. So thank you, my friends and my family, for welcoming us along the way.  You can't even guess at how important that has been.