With Five Days to Christmas
The view out the window has been the same for two months now. I haven’t had to worry about the level of the propane tanks, or whether the water heater will fire up in the morning. Not once has the sink drained slowly because I forgot to re-open the grey water tank after I flushed the black water tank.
I haven’t waited for the UPS truck to arrive with the latest improvement from Amazon, these days, LED lights to replace the yellow-by-comparison incandescent bulbs. Not once have I tripped a circuit breaker by running the electric kettle and the electric heater at the same time.
I haven’t had to mop up the floor in the morning because I left a roof vent too far open and it drizzled. I haven’t had to get used to a new location and a new set of trains rumbling by at 3:00am. I know exactly where Wal-Mart is; there have been no new towns and streets to learn.
I haven’t been glad that there was a see-ment truck to hunker down behind going up a 6% grade over the Appalachians so that it wasn’t my fault I was only doing 25 mph, not straining my truck. I haven’t had to wonder why I can back into an angled site on the first attempt and then taking forty-eleven tries to back into a straight-on site.
I walk pert near everywhere, not panicking because I realized where I was trying to turn around was too small and the turning radius was tight enough to pop one of my weight-distribution bars loose. Everything is level, front to back and side to side, not once has a door swung back open because it wasn’t latched.
There’s plenty of room in the shower for me to raise my elbows. There’s a proper sink and a proper mirror to use while shaving; I don’t either have to use the most worthless little sink in the history of mankind while using a fixed mirror, or use a decent sink while holding a hand-held mirror.
I haven’t once whacked my head on the rail that holds up the canopy, swearing that my next trip to Wal-Mart I’ll remember to buy then attach a swimming pool ‘noodle’ as warning and protection. I haven’t had to sweep the floor every hour on the hour because I track in so much sand.
There are no ants, no mosquitoes and no gnats. I don’t have to worry about Tupelo getting fleas, ticks or ringworm. He won’t venture too far, get into a fight with a local stray or wiggle-worm out of his harness if he has to be tied. I don’t have to worry that his accommodation might get too hot or too cold when I’m gone for a few hours.
I didn’t have to insulate the city-water line in case it got too cold or get out the manual to learn how to manually crank the slide back in just in case the slide-motor failed. There are no Mexicans to fight over washers with at the laundromat. I haven’t seen a single episode of Ellen Degeneris while waiting for my clothes to dry.
I haven’t visited www.volunteer.gov to see where there are light-duty jobs available in return for a free site, electric, water and sewer in a state I might enjoy visiting. I’m getting great gas mileage… I seldom use my truck. In the two months I’ve been here, I’ve filled up once since using up the gas I bought in Michigan before crossing the border.
Life is a chowl of berries, right?
Wrong. I’m miserable. I miss The Hare-Brained Scheme.Share