Category Archives: Travel

A rolling stone…

12 Thursday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Randomness, Travel, Vanlife

≈ 6 Comments

a tree

Toad Suck is awesome.

I like it in every way, except maybe for the shower quality. But my site is beautiful, the view is amazing, the sunrises have been lovely, the walking is pleasant, the weather has been perfect… I like it so much that I’ve been struggling today to decide whether to stay longer or to move on. Struggling for an excessively long time, in fact! I’m actually quite annoyed with myself for how much time I’ve wasted trying to make this decision.

My routine — to the extent that I can be said to have one — has been to move every four or five days. Because I seldom get a site with sewer hookups, that’s about the perfect length of time to let me freely use water while I’m at a site, mostly for washing dishes, and then dump the tanks when I move. It’s also generally a pretty good time to hit up a grocery store. I can certainly last longer than four days on risottos and quinoa bowls, but I usually feel like I need something from a store about then.

But when I’ve found a really nice place, I’m often torn between moving on and staying. In favor of moving: maybe the next place will be even better. Against moving: why not appreciate what I have for a while longer?

This morning, I sighed and thought, “Well, a rolling stone gathers no moss.”

And then I thought, “But is that good or bad? Do I want moss or don’t I?”

I don’t know the answer, but I was pretty amused to discover that no one else does either.

It hasn’t helped me make a decision. But Eureka Springs is only about three hours away…

A tale of two campgrounds

06 Friday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Travel, Vanlife

≈ 3 Comments

campground photos

My site at Gulpha Gorge

If I was on vacation, with company and lots of time to play, I think that Gulpha Gorge would have been a very fun place to be camping. Like all of the national parks (in my experience, anyway) it was crowded and busy and beautiful. There were hikes that looked terrific and it was reasonably close — walking distance even — to the town of Hot Springs, which is adorable and historic and touristy, but not in a bad way.

As it was, though, I was kind of grouchy about being there. I’d been writing really well at Lake Chicot and the busy-ness of Gulpha Gorge was distracting and unsettling. Not unsettling in a spooky way, but unsettling meaning that I just couldn’t settle into writing. People wandered by the van, both in front and in back, and cars drove by on the road, and I paid more attention to my surroundings than I did to my computer. Part of me wanted to accept that, to appreciate the moment and be present where I was. To be mindful.

But mostly I was grouchy instead. I didn’t want interruptions and people; I wanted a better view — one with no people passing by, unless they were in boats — and to be living in my imagination. Fortunately, I’d been skeptical from first glance, so I only had a couple nights there, and yesterday, I headed out to my current park.

Along the way, I stopped at Quapaw Baths and, well, had a bath. Actually, not literally — a private bath would have cost $35 – $40 and I was too cheap for that. I shouldn’t have been. More than once I’ve considered getting a hotel room for the night purely to take a bath, and it’s my birthday week so I should have been willing to treat myself. Funnily enough, I think my reticence was because Gulpha Gorge didn’t have showers, so I was feeling pretty dirty. I know, isn’t that ridiculous? I was feeling too dirty to take a bath. But I wanted a hot shower, and the thermal baths — four giant hot tubs of varying temperatures — required guests to shower first. So I spent $20 for the thermal baths. I did it the classic way, moving from the coolest bath up the line until I was in the hottest bath, sitting under a waterfall of 104 degree water, and then working my way back down again. It was absolutely lovely, and bookended by clean hot showers. Totally worth the $20. Possibly worth driving back to Hot Springs before I leave Arkansas and doing it again.

Bath complete, I headed north to Petit St Jean State Park. It’s a campground that I knew I didn’t want to miss, because it was rated the best park in Arkansas in a 2017 survey. High praise! But I’d really wish I’d waited to pick a site instead of choosing one at random online. There are 127 campsites and some of them are terrific. Mine is not one of the terrific ones. It backs up to the road; it’s on a slight slope; the water and electricity are on different sides of the site so Serenity can’t be connected to both at once; and my view is limited to trees. Still, trees are better than neighbors’ sewer lines and it’s quiet enough that even the traffic on the road probably won’t bother me too much.

And the weather… well. It’s 11AM and I have turned the van into Cozy Nest Van, closing all the blinds and curtains and turning the lights on even though it’s daytime. That’s because it’s raining and cold and dark outside. There’s a freeze warning in effect for tonight and I actually had to think for a moment to recognize the symbol on the weather app for tomorrow. Literally, I have not seen that symbol in… well, maybe never in relation to a place where I was!

I was thinking about driving into the nearest town tomorrow for a free Starbucks treat and maybe a sushi lunch to celebrate another year passing, but nope, I won’t be driving. And honestly, I’m not sure how I’m feeling about that symbol. But I can promise you that the blinds will not be down tomorrow while I wait to see if white fluffy stuff starts falling from the sky!

My site at Petit St Jean, yesterday. It’s much wetter today!

Not quite a parking lot

03 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by in Campground, Randomness, Travel

≈ 6 Comments

parking lot with campers

My current “campground”. If you look real hard, Serenity’s a tiny speck in the background.

I woke up this morning in a field in Arkansas. It’s not a campground, it’s not a parking lot, it’s a field. I’m not the only person camping here. There’s a tent that I can see without moving my head, an Airstream trailer and truck combo that I can see when I turn my head, and off in the distance a run-down Class C RV that holds a family having an amazing adventure. I know the latter because I drove by them last night — at least three kids aged 7 and under, with hippie parents, and everyone was smiling. That might have been because Z was sitting in the passenger seat, playing co-pilot, which she does sometimes, and I was driving by very slowly, so giving them plenty of time to point her out and admire her cuteness.

Yesterday I screwed up. But I’ll start at the beginning: I left Lake Chicot with enormous regret. After my electricity travails, I wound up in a perfect spot there, so nice that I was seriously tempted to go back to the office and extend my stay for as long as they would let me. Water view, glorious sunsets, lovely long walks, what more could anyone want?

Alas, clean clothes. I was as close to being entirely out of clean clothes as I’ve gotten since I was in college, I suspect. And I did consider the virtues of hand-washing socks and underwear in the sink, but really, everything was dirty. It was time for clean pants and clean sweaters and clean sheets, too. And the town around Lake Chicot didn’t appear to have a laundromat, or at least Google wouldn’t find one for me. Google liked a place called Pine Bluff for laundromats. So I packed up and headed to Pine Bluff.

Google lied.

The first laundromat I tried to find didn’t exist. I drove around in circles at the spot on the map, trying to locate it, finally pulled over right where it should be, and it simply was not there. No big deal. I found the next closest laundromat and headed to it. Nope, not a laundromat. Laundry, yes, but it was a dry-cleaner and professional laundry place, one of those running big machines with trucks loading out front, not the kind where people sit and watch the dryers spin. On to the next one. It was closed. Very closed, very dead looking. It still had the washers and dryers inside, but it looked like no one had used it in years, forlorn and abandoned. Fine. I was not liking Pine Bluff much by this time, but fine. Off I went to laundromat #4. It didn’t exist. Again, I drove around in circles until I could find a spot to pull over and check the map location against the physical reality and they simply did not match. There was no laundromat there and no sign that there ever had been one there.

Oh, Google. Why were you failing me? Or maybe it was the town to blame, but either way, I was feeling pretty frustrated. Driving the van in circles in an unfamiliar city — albeit a small city, with reasonable traffic — is really not my idea of a fun way to spend an hour.

But it wasn’t like I had any better ideas for how I was going to solve my clean clothes issue. So off I headed to laundromat #5 and when, on the way, I spotted a “laundry, 24 hours” sign, I did not hesitate. It wasn’t listed on Google maps, but I swung right in with a sigh of relief. Two hours, two loads of clean clothes, and some friendly conversations later, I got back on the road.

It was later than I wanted it to be, already after 1, and I made a key mistake — I didn’t eat lunch. I was headed to Hot Springs National Park and a campground that doesn’t take reservations, Gulpha Gorge. In my (limited) experience, the national campgrounds are perennially busy places, so I wanted to get there as close to noon as possible, to catch people as they were leaving, for my best chance of finding a good site. I was over an hour and a half away, so I was already later than I liked. And I needed to stop at a grocery store on the way.

Why did I need to stop at a store? I have no idea. None. I knew I did, but I got to the store, started wandering around, and — Oh! Drat. Gluten-free oats, that was why I wanted a store. Sigh. I’m out of granola. Alas, Alexa didn’t work while I was at Lake Chicot because I had no T-Mobile connection, so I was relying on my own memory instead of a grocery list and my own memory totally failed me. Instead I wandered the store buying things that I absolutely did not need — spice gum drops, potato chips, dip, sugar water, sushi — the stuff that you buy when it’s 3PM and you didn’t eat lunch and you’re in a grocery store and can’t remember what you’re looking for. In my defense, also pot roast, mushrooms, some healthy noodle bowl thing and eggs, so not a totally useless, nutrition-free visit. But pretty close.

And then, finally, I headed to the campground. I got there and felt a little dubious. The campsites were close together, a few neat rows of them. There were some empty spots, but they were sloped or right next to the bathrooms, so heavy traffic flow spots. I like quiet campgrounds, peaceful places, and this didn’t look like that kind of place. But there was a site on the end of a row that was open so I noted its number and went back to register.

The registration was by computer — first time I’ve seen that. Like a parking spot computer in a parking garage, you put your number in and the days you wanted to stay, fed it your credit card, and it printed out a little slip for you, your receipt, to clip on the camp site’s number post. I wasn’t feeling overly thrilled by the campground, but I’d read great reviews about its nice trails and I’m resolved not to move so often that I don’t get any writing done, so I decided to stay three nights, moving on Thursday. I got my receipt and went back to set up.

Except, when I got back there, there was already a receipt on the post. The site was already taken. I couldn’t figure out how I’d missed seeing it. Had someone been just slightly ahead of me at the registration kiosk? But no, it was just the angle of the van and a branch from a bush — the receipt had been hidden by leaves. And the campers hadn’t left anything in the site, so they were probably van campers like me.

I went to the registration window, wondering what to do, and there was a big sign on the door — No Refunds. Bah humbug. I’d just spent $97 for a site I couldn’t use. I putzed around the campground for a while, trying to decide what to do. Pay for another campsite? Go find a less expensive, less crowded campground? I parked in another site and took Z for a quick walk, still pondering. We didn’t walk far, because I didn’t want to get a ticket, but I decided that the trails were nice enough that I did want to explore.

When we got back, I took a closer look at the receipt and realized that the people in the site were leaving today, the 3rd. I’d paid for the site through the 5th, so if I got there before someone else in the morning, I could maybe save two nights of my stay. But I really didn’t want to spend another $30 for a different site in the campground. Long story short (well, less long than it already has been), I waited at the site until its previous occupants returned around 7PM, told them what had happened, asked if I could leave my receipt there so no one took the site the next day, and then headed off in the growing dark to find myself a free spot to park for the night. My options were a nearby Walmart or a county park that was described as having unofficial camping. Since it wasn’t totally dark, I decided to try the county park. And thus, my field.

It wound up being a long day and it felt quite wasted while I was engaged in it. Driving in circles, shopping for sugar, sitting in a campsite, poised to depart at a moment’s notice, while waiting for its real owners to get home… I didn’t feel good about the day. But I liked waking up in my field this morning, and all my clothes are clean, and when I finally do get into my campsite, I’ll plug in the instant-pot and make myself some pot roast for dinner. Things could definitely be much, much worse.

Cozy days

26 Monday Mar 2018

Posted by in Campground, Chicken, Food, Soup, Sous Vide, Travel

≈ 6 Comments

I woke up yesterday to a gray, rainy, chilly day and thought, “I have got to get out of here.”

I woke up today to a gray, rainy, mildly chilly day and thought, “Oh, what a good day to snuggle down into my cozy nest and write a lot.”

I’m really not sure what the difference is. I had a nice lake view yesterday and you’d think that would have satisfied me. I’m speculating, though, that green is the color that matters. Yesterday’s campground was gravel and dirt, gray tree trunks, dead brown leaves, slate water, overcast sky. Today’s campground is some of the above (although not the water), but also spring green grass and forest green pine trees. Plenty of brown in view, too, but it doesn’t feel Gothic.

Another difference might be technological. I had no Internet connection and no cell service at yesterday’s campground. I’ve actually quite enjoyed being without internet at points in my travels — it pushes me to be present, to appreciate where I am, instead of mindlessly browsing FB or reading news stories that I instantly forget. But only, I suppose, in places where I feel safe. In general, I like knowing that if I need help, it’s a phone call away.

So, yes, today’s cozy nest includes internet browsing and probably some texting with friends. It also includes some cooking. I picked up chicken breast on sale at the grocery store yesterday, and I’ve already got my sous vide churning away. Two experiments: one with lime juice, yogurt, and mint, and the other with parsley, cilantro, garlic and olive oil. The danger with sous vide chicken is having the flavors be too strong, so I’m a little worried about the garlic version, but if I hate it, Zelda will be very happy to have my leftovers.

As soon as I finish cooking the chicken, I’ve got some corn-on-the-cob ready to go in. I’m quite excited to try it. I thought the sous vide corn I cooked last summer was close to the best corn I’d ever eaten, and it was late summer corn. This is, I hope, very early summer corn, nice and fresh, so it ought to be even better. I’ll see, I guess!

I’m also debating a scallop soup. I’ve got bay scallops in the freezer that need to be used up, but so far I can’t decide between a spicy ginger-lime scallop soup — maybe with rice noodles? — or a chowder-style soup with coconut milk and maybe some curry. But I bought a mix of gluten-free cheese biscuits at Aldi a few weeks back and I think the soup winner might be whatever would go best with the biscuits. The nicest part of mildly chilly days is that using the oven doesn’t cook us, too.

So, yep, cozy day in Mississippi ahead of me. And with some good words on Grace to go, too!

Anthropomorphizing birds. Or just projecting.

25 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by in Birds, Campground, Randomness, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

Canadian geese

I woke up to the sound of Canadian geese complaining. Then I spent the next several minutes sleepily castigating myself for negatively anthropomorphizing birds. Surely they were honking or calling or murmuring. Then I woke up a little more and realized that it was still the middle of the night and those birds were definitely complaining. Not sure what they were complaining about — were they drifting in the water? Was some raccoon disturbing their slumber? But they stopped their complaining and I went back to sleep and eventually, when I woke up again, their noises were much more like daybreak murmurings.

I’m in Tennessee, currently at a Thousand Trails campground on the Natchez Trace. I was driving yesterday and remembering the last time I was in Tennessee. I thought then that the state would probably be really pretty in about two more weeks, in spring, but that at that moment, it was bleak and grey, trees all ugly spires of bare trunk with dead, hanging leaves that should have dropped months ago. When I reached my destination, I looked up the date I was last here — coincidentally, but not surprisingly, it was March 24th of last year. The exact same day.

And yeah, I think this state will probably be really pretty in two more weeks, but today, it is the epitome of March showers. Overcast, mildly foggy, everything looking gray. Not pretty, but lovely in a very Goth sort of way. The kind of lonely beauty that makes cups of tea seem highly desirable.

I was planning on spending more time here, but I think instead, I’m going to drift my way south. Or maybe west. But first things first: Z wants her walk.

And later.

I walked Zelda, got back to the van, and instead of making myself some coffee and starting the day, I packed up the van and got on the road. The campground was probably a perfectly nice place. But it’s the kind where people have annual memberships and leave their trailers at their sites year round. Stuff accumulates outside the trailers. Not necessarily bad stuff — potted plants and lights and chairs, golf carts and grills, holiday decorations and signs. But time and weather and entropy combine so quickly to turn pleasant vacation gear into shabby, run-down debris. It didn’t just feel like a trailer park, it felt like an abandoned trailer park. Half depressing and half spooky.

(The bathrooms, however, were excellent — clean and shiny new — and the view was terrific. I had a waterfront site with a lovely lake view. If the weather had been nicer, it might have been a perfectly nice place.)

lake view

So I got on the road and headed south, along the Natchez Trace. It’s a scenic highway along what was once a trail used by bison, Native Americans, and early settlers. At 8AM on a Sunday morning, I was pretty much alone on it and it was lovely. Absolutely peaceful and beautiful. I took a couple breaks along the way, went to a grocery store in Tupelo, Mississippi, and then found myself a campsite at Trace State Park.

I picked the park based on the fact that I like state parks, that I didn’t want to keep driving, and that the sun was showing through the clouds when I walked out of the grocery store. All excellent reasons, but it turns out that somewhere within this park is the birthplace of Davy Crockett. I’m sure there are reasons to disapprove of Davy Crockett these days, but the Disney song is running through my head. And I just read the wikipedia entry on him and he was the only representative from Tennessee to vote against the Indian Removal Act (aka Trail of Tears) and was thanked for it by a Cherokee chief, so yay. I will continue humming cheerfully.

And even though the sky has clouded up again, I feel much happier here. The lake is currently gone — undergoing renovations apparently — so my waterfront spot is really just a “looking out onto a grassy pit” spot, but it is peaceful and quiet. I remember — again from last year — sitting in a campground somewhere in the south and realizing that there are places where those noisy birdsong relaxation medleys that always sound so fake are actually real. This is one of those places. If it weren’t for the hum of the computer, the only sound I’d be able to hear would be the birds chirping and squeaking and whirring and making all those different mysterious sounds they make. Not complaining, though. They sound quite happy! (I could be projecting, though. 🙂 )

No tornadoes

22 Thursday Mar 2018

Posted by in Campground, Grace, Travel

≈ 3 Comments

a distant waterfall

Looking down, down, down…

So, anyone read about the tornadoes in northwest Georgia? Probably not, because the whole country seems to have been having exciting weather. Turns out there was a reason the ranger was instructing me on safe locations. Fortunately, although I am just about as far north and west as one can get in Georgia, the actual tornadoes hit to the south and east of me. I was never even really worried.

But the weather has mostly not been nice and also not what it was predicted to be. When I decided to come this far north, it was because my weather app was promising 70 degrees and sunshine. That would have been nice. Instead, it was 28 outside this morning! The app actually said 28 degrees, at the same time as it promised that the coldest temp of the day would be 34. Grr…

The good news is that long days holed up inside the van because it’s too cold or too wet to be outside are very good for writing. I’m at one of those points in Grace where I text my friends little snippets of dialogue because I am so very, very amused at my characters. Unfortunately — or fortunately? — they’re now headed in a totally different direction than anything I’ve ever expected them to go in, or that they’ve ever gone before, so I’m once again looking at those 30K words that are already written, that I really thought I was going to be able to re-use, and sighing. Not re-usable.

On the other hand, the characters are having fun and fun is good. If I ever finish this book, it will be a very weird book. But I am going to let go of it and let it be a weird book. Re-reading my Eureka fanfiction reminded me of how much I enjoy weird and how surprised I have been to discover how many other people have enjoyed my brand of weird. Variety of weird? Type of weird? “Brand” feels like marketing-speak, the kind that makes me cringe.

There was something else I was going to write about, but I don’t remember what it was, ha. So I’m going to go back to writing Grace, because my characters have been hanging out in a kayak for weeks now and today is the day where they might finally paddle to shore. That’s totally not a metaphor, at all.

But every time I get grumpy about the weather, I’m going to remind myself that it’s not tornadoes. Or blizzards. Or mudslides. Perspective is everything!

PS I remembered! I was going to write about that waterfall up there. Alas, our explorations have not been as fun as I hoped, because a) weather and b) a lot of the trails have these steep staircases, made of metal stairs with holes in them. Z’s paws are the perfect size to fit right in those holes, so she doesn’t like them. One time — in Texas maybe? — she actually slipped partway through and I was really worried that she’d break her leg trying to escape before I could help her. So we don’t walk on that kind of stairs. If we did, though, we’d be visiting waterfalls! But the weather was clear enough today to see them from above. Not quite as fun as seeing it up-close, but given how cold it is, I probably wouldn’t want to get all that close anyway.

Cloudland Canyon State Park

20 Tuesday Mar 2018

Posted by in Campground, Travel

≈ 10 Comments

I picked my current campground based on its pretty name: when I read it, I envisioned a land of fluffy white clouds, pristine blue sky, some sort of magical hopping from cloud to cloud over deep ravines, probably birds in pretty colors. You know, a sort of fantasy “Cloudland Canyon.” The anime version.

Duh.

A cloudy scenic overlook

I should have been picturing fog. Dense, heavy, impressive fog. Yep, that’s a scenic overlook and probably there’s sometimes something nice to look at out there. But today it was just clouds. A Land of Clouds.

Worst fog I’ve ever driven through, too. I spent a solid ten minutes in almost total white-out* debating whether it would be worse to be rear-ended because I was driving too slowly or rear-end someone because I was driving too fast. I was going at least twenty miles under the speed limit at the time, so I guess that sort of indicates which I chose. But I did think I might still be driving too fast.

  • I think white-out refers to blizzards, actually. Grey-out? What’s the word for when visibility is almost nil in fog?

I’m also not terribly enthusiastic about the ranger making sure to tell me where the safe places to take refuge from the weather are. I mean I guess it’s better to know that than not? Well, yeah, of course it is. I just hope it’s knowledge that I don’t need to have.

All that said, I am definitely looking forward to doing more exploring. Zelda and I took a quick walk after we got here, down to the main scenic overlook, and even though we couldn’t see a darn thing except for clouds, the walk was terrific.

path through the campground

Even though I know those stone steps are probably a sign that this was a Conservation Corps park, they make me think of fairy tales and monsters and shimmering borders between worlds. Magic!

Magical Eureka

12 Monday Mar 2018

Posted by in Randomness, Travel, Writing

≈ 4 Comments

I saw manatees this week.

At least, I think they were manatees. They were big gray lumps, breaking through the surface of the water and then disappearing again. Too big to be otters, which was my first thought. Too inland to be dolphins or whales, which would have been my second, if I’d been at the ocean.

I wasn’t at the ocean. I was actually at a lake whose name I don’t know, but which is right down the street (more or less, a few minutes drive away) from a driveway that has been a very regular campsite over the past four months.

It made me think about magic. And adventure. And the difference between them. But also, more importantly, about needing to remember that there is magic right around the corner, all the time, if we just remember to look for it.

On Wednesday, I’m finally starting my travels again — heading north, with plans to explore Georgia and Arkansas and the states between the two. (That vagueness is because I could hop up to Tennessee and drive across Tennessee to get to Arkansas, or I could stay farther south and drive through the northern ends of Alabama and Mississippi. I think which I do might depend on the weather, might depend on what sounds interesting along the way.)

My Arkansas destination is Eureka Springs. Why Eureka Springs? Well, why not? But that’s not the entire answer. This weekend I got an email from fanfiction.net, a review on one of my last Eureka stories. It was really good timing, because it reminded me of what happened in 2010. I had given up on writing fiction, almost a decade earlier, because… drum roll? … nothing I wrote ever satisfied me. Much like I’ve done for the past three years, I wrote in circles, I over-wrote, I edited to death, it was never good enough. Writing was an exercise in frustration, not a satisfaction or a joy. And so I quit writing.

Then I fell in love with a television show, Eureka, and more specifically a relationship on the show and wanted desperately to know what happened next. I discovered fanfiction. But none of the stories were quite the one that I wanted to read, so I wrote my own. And then I wrote more, and then I wrote more, until I had written hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction, with stories that ranged from a few thousand words to full-length novellas of 35,000+. But I had a strict rule, which was that I didn’t edit. I wrote and I let go.

Literally, I would write during my free time and then before I went to sleep, I would post what I’d written. I never went back and questioned myself, I never edited, I never agonized over plots — it was all spur-of-the-moment, top-of-my-head, as fast as I could write, writing. I wrote in 1000-word blocks and then I shared them. Are the stories perfect? Nowhere close. Are they fun, fast, readable, entertaining, creative, amusing… yes, all of the above.

I need to get back to that kind of writing. I don’t know whether I can entirely, because one of the joys of writing fanfiction was the community, the instant-feedback from supportive readers. I don’t know how many times my author notes on those stories say things like, “I wouldn’t have written this if it weren’t for reviews from x, y, z,” but it’s often. Really often. Those reviews motivated me.

But I also look at the stories and I didn’t worry about grammar, about perfection. I’ve got sentence fragments and run-ons, dialogue-style construction in narrative, adjectives used with blithe abandon, and jumps in point-of-view whenever I felt like I needed to be in a different point-of-view, sometimes with breaks but sometimes just done. And all those things work just fine. I just wrote and let go. So that’s my new resolution for working on Grace, to write and let go.

And I’m going to Eureka Springs, because I saw the name on a map yesterday and thought, Yes! I want to go back to Eureka. It won’t be the same, but as long as I’m on my way there, I’ll be reminding myself every day of what it meant to me to be living in Eureka.

Radio Silence

21 Sunday Jan 2018

Posted by in Books, Personal, Reviews, Vanlife

≈ 8 Comments

This is the longest I’ve gone without posting to my blog in at least two years. I’m hitting the point where staying silent is easier than breaking my silence, which is sort of silly. I have no real reason for not posting, I just decided to give myself a break. And continuing my break is easier than connecting my phone and looking at the pictures I’ve taken or thinking about what I had to share.

Realistically, too, it’s been sort of a boring couple of weeks. Not uneventful, but the events have been things like taking Serenity in for service and discovering that she had a leak in the transmission; taking the dogs to the vet and finding out that yes, B is dying, and yes, said death is getting closer every day; taking myself to the dentist and getting a cap replaced. (Was it a cap or a crown, I wonder? I don’t actually know the difference.)

Not exactly the most scintillating or joyful of events, none of them, although the first was fixed under warranty, the second was not a surprise, and the third is actually kind of a relief. The cap (or crown) was loose on a front tooth and I was getting tired of feeling like a six-year-old, poking it with my tongue and wondering when it would fall out.

On the other hand, I also had a lovely dinner with my brother, dad and stepmom in Sarasota; went to the Ringling Museum for the first time; enjoyed dinner and writing time with some of my local writing friends; cooked sous vide honey mustard chicken and quinoa for some other friends; and worked on my writing, my taxes, and some book translations.

Life, in other words, has been happening. Some good, some bad, some fun, some sad. And that was an entirely unintentional Dr. Seuss imitation. I haven’t started writing with long streams of semi-colons mixed with sentence fragments in my fiction, just in case you’re worried about this trend!

Actually, probably the most interesting thing that has been going on — at least to me — is that I’m re-working how I use the space in the van. Shortly after New Year’s, I got myself a queen-size memory foam mattress topper. I’d hit the point where I felt like I had to do something about how horribly I was sleeping, and the something was not going to be using sleeping pills. I’ve spent the days since experimenting with how to most conveniently fit it into my limited space and the answer is, it doesn’t conveniently fit into my limited space. Period.

On the other hand, I’ve actually slept several hours in a row since it entered my life and so it is staying in my life. But my “office” and my “bed” — aka the positions in which I sat when I was writing/not writing — just don’t work the same way. You’d think that it wouldn’t be a big deal to just sit in a different way/place, but in fact, figuring out how to get comfortable writing with an unwieldy memory foam mattress topper taking up a ton of room has been difficult. Figuring out how to snuggle down into reading comfort has been much easier.

As a result, in the past ten days, I’ve read:

The Dark Days Club (A Lady Helen Novel) – Slow going and not one where I have any interest in reading the sequels, even though the story felt like set-up for the series more than it did a stand-alone.

The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are – Interesting reading, although I suspect it would have been far more useful for me about ten years ago. Still, I do still struggle with perfectionism, so I’ll probably be trying to follow some of her advice.

Shatter Me – Not for me, but it had a great cover.

Ink and Bone (The Great Library) – Pulled me in, didn’t let me go. The moment I finished, I went looking for the sequels. I’m on the library waitlist for both of them. I thought at first it was going to be a Harry Potter knock-off, but a) I have no real objection to that, as long as it’s done well, and b) I was totally wrong, with the exception of the characters meeting in a school-type setting. Totally wrong. If you like fantasy, this one is engrossing, interesting, suspenseful, and maybe a little on the dark side, in a late Harry Potter kind of way.

Steel’s Edge (The Edge, Book 4) Also read Fate’s Edge, which means I have now officially read everything Ilona Andrews has published. These two aren’t my favorites (I like the Innkeeper series best, I think) but I enjoyed them while reading. And the fact that I’ve read all of the authors’ books — four or five series, at least twenty books — says something.

Neogenesis (Liaden Universe®) – The classic example, for me, of a series that I keep reading because I know the characters too well to stop. If you haven’t read the first 20-some books in the series, you definitely don’t want to start here. If you have read the first 20-some books, you’re probably wondering why nothing much ever seems to happen in these books anymore, even in the one where huge ongoing plot threads get tied up. Or at least I was.

Wild Horses – Modern Dick Francis but also classic Dick Francis. I’m not sure how I missed reading it when it first came out, but I enjoyed it.

I feel like I’m missing something in this list, but if I can’t remember it, it probably isn’t worth recommending. Not that I’m recommending all of these! But if you need something to read, Ink and Bone (The Great Library) is worth a try. If you’re not caught by the end of the first chapter, in which a truly grievous crime is committed, I’ll be surprised. Well, not if you’re not a fantasy reader. But if you liked Harry Potter or The Hunger Games, Ink and Bones is worth adding to your TBR pile.

And now I think I’ll get back to my TBW pile (To Be Written). It gets longer all the time, but I am definitely writing! In between reading, anyway.

A new year begins…

03 Wednesday Jan 2018

Posted by in Personal, Randomness, Vanlife

≈ 7 Comments

Sunflower honey from the Ukraine

Sunflower honey from the Ukraine

Today’s honey was sunflower honey from the Ukraine. I wasn’t sure about it on my first taste — it was definitely less sweet than the clover honey I’ve been eating — but I was sold by the end of my oatmeal.

In my head, before I took this picture and realized what the real name was, I was calling it “sunshine honey.” And it’s a good day for sunshine honey, because, wow, it is cold and gray and wet and bleak outside.

I love the sound of rain on the roof of the van, but taking the dogs for their walks in cold, gray drizzle and returning to the van means wet clothes, wet jackets, wet towels everywhere. The van isn’t big enough for rainy days. And it’s actually cold enough today that I’ve closed off the cab and the bathroom to try to keep it warmer, making it feel even smaller.

An interesting irony: tea is an obvious pleasure of a cold, rainy day. Mmm, nice warm beverage to cuddle between my hands. But I usually heat water on the propane burner and I don’t use the propane without opening up the overhead vent and running the fan. Today is not the day for that. I don’t actually know what the risk is — explosion? carbon monoxide poisoning? — but I take my warning labels seriously. Fortunately, I have an induction cooktop and electricity, so tea remains an option.

I’m currently at Lake Griffin State Park, in central Florida. I’ve stayed here before, so don’t have a lot to say about it — it’s a small park, but cozy and pleasant. The sites feel more cramped and close together than the average Florida park, but there’s loads of greenery. My view right now is all palmettos, although if I turn my head, I can also see the trailer in the site next to mine. If the weather was nicer, I could rent a kayak and go out on the river for a while, which would be lovely but is totally not going to happen today. I’m not adding any more wet clothes to the pile already slowly steaming up the front.

Some of the RV blogs that I read have done end of 2017, beginning of 2018 posts: miles traveled, places stayed, money spent. Plus plans for the new year. I’m not going to do that, except to say that I came pretty close to 20,000 miles in 2017. I think I drove through 38 states, and I know I visited four different coasts — Atlantic, Pacific, Gulf, and Caribbean. Can I count the Caribbean as a coast? I think so.

As for my plans for 2018 — I’m going to watch my son graduate from college in May. I’m going to celebrate my stepmom’s birthday sometime around July, somewhere unknown, but maybe Ohio. And I’m going to write a lot of words. Apart from that, I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do or where I’m going to go. Adventures await!