3 houses, 2 hotel rooms, 1 yurt and a camper. Lately, I've felt like a genuine nomad: duffle bag always packed for 2, but following free showers instead of food. In the last 2 months we've visited family in some beautiful places, and landed a few farm-sitting gigs from friends - welcomed pauses from the less than 100 square foot camper we are currently occupying. When the last piece of clothing was put away, finally all my things were in one place. We've been living in the camper for close to 4 months now, and I'm still feeling pretty good about it. I feel settled. I know where everything is, and we have our daily routine down.
But just as we settled into a comfortable place, here we are, moved again. At least this time we are turtles. Slow moving with everything on our back. All we had to do was move the camper up to our land. I packed up a few boxes of breakables to get the camper road-ready, but it feels good to know that really I'll never have to pack up my whole home again. All that's left is one big unpacking of boxes from storage. We can flatten out those boxes. Toss them in the recycling bin. Bring our packing tape guns to the local thrift shop.
We've owned our land for almost 6 months now. Our quick-slow-quick-slow rhythm is coming back around to where we started as we wasted no time getting our driveway in right after we closed. In retrospect, timing was perfect then as if we had waited for Spring, driveway-building would've been hard to come by with the rainy season crowning. Now I'm thankful for the rains bringing puddles for Calla and I to play in up top at our homesite with no water for entertainment unless we go down to the creek.
