Gypsy Diaries

campsite

We are headed West today, and yesterday, and tomorrow, and the next day. Leaving, if for a while. the palm trees, beach walks, squirrel habitats called campsites, and tiny little homes called RVs.  We have packed our ancient sleigh (2004 Toyota Highlander V-6 for those that need to know) with small amounts of each season’s clothes, electronics, dog food and good cheer. I can see out the back window this time, clearly we are traveling lighter.
In the road hours I have been considering our last weeks.  For anyone that imagines that traveling with two large dogs and providing the “cone of silence” to a working partner is some kind of relaxing vacation, think again.  It has provided some soul growth.  I am just not as peaceful a person as I once believed.
Our last neighbor heard my rumblings of discontent as we were packing to leave Minerva in storage. Campsite walls are nonexistent, and sharp words travel faster. There really is an unlimited amount of ways to bruise oneself in a space this small.
 Our campsite neighbor at site 27, and his 70ish wife, decked out in a big grin and a Santa hat, were heading home to their actual house, 60 miles away. She secured the trailer door, as he loaded his dog and chairs into his pick up. He asked me, “Having fun yet?”  Trying to be gracious to an elder, over the din of Bear and Mac barking at the 300th squirrel attack that morning, while not dropping clean laundry as I tripped over Bear’s leash and dumped the water dish….again. I said, “I have fun scheduled for this afternoon, but now it’s just all the moving!” He stopped for a moment, gave me a truly guileless smile and said, “This life is really all moving, isn’t it?  We are really just a bunch of Gypsys, that’s what we are and that’s why we do it.”
 Actually, I think “we do it” for a variety of reasons.  Not the least of which is to hear Truth from strangers who the smile and wave, and drive permanently out of our lives leaving us to digest a profound observation about ourselves. Well drop a pinecone on my head! Why would anyone live in an RV if they didn’t like to MOVE.  Ah… the sweet smell of perspective, bless you our hog hunting friend. So, Thought I might do some public processing on our last 6 weeks as nomads.
swamp
Best moments:
Nokomis drum circle with our children and grandchildren.
Realizing that as the temperature dropped in New Mexico, we had no pipes there anymore.
Heavy rain on the roof and being dry, happening at the same time.
Hearing Bear give an authentic New Mexican, Full Moon howl in answer to a Florida hound dog across the park.
Doing laundry outside, doing everything outside.
Glass bottom boat at Silver Springs; seeing 20 year old water.  It takes that long to filter through the limestone. Watching it gush without pause into incredibly clear 30 ft deep pools.
 Worst moments:
Being called away from Thanksgiving Dinner because Mac had bolted from the Dog caregiver, and was lost in acres of Florida underbrush.
Having to leave East children to see West children.
Feeling mad at my dogs, for being…dogs
 Seems there is more under the Best side. In our “regular” world time, I have plans for many delicious activities like baths, letting the dogs out, and being alone!  We will see how wonderful they are when they are easy and available.  We will see how hard it is to sleep where I can’t see the trees. It’s hard to beat hearing owls in the night, and finding an owl pellet under the tree in the morning.  We will see…..

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