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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1397428-Living-The-Good-Life
Rated: E · Essay · Satire · #1397428
Living The Good Life is about the trials of moving out to the middle of no-where .
        In response to the heightened awareness of  global warming, excessive dependence of fossil fuel, pollution, and general overuse of the earth’s limited resources, my husband Stephen and I, new empty nesters decided to do our part. I mean, really, how hard could it be?
         Stephen had retired from the Navy and we decided we were going to live off the land. grow our own food, raise-laying hens; did he say a milk cow? Ah, I love my husband but he is the worlds biggest animal lover/ pack rat and what ever moves in with us never leaves. More than likely it will spends the winter watching television, and munching pop corn in the living room. 
         “No, let’s not do cows, pigs, chickens, or goats, OK? I mean a vegan lifestyle works for me. And while we are on the subject it would probably be prudent to point out I have no intention of living without electricity and running water,” I avowed.
         A few weeks later, we were on our way. Moving from a cozy coastal Island cottage to a fishing camp on a river in the middle of nowhere.
We bought a pile of homestead how to type magazines and books. We found an old fifth wheel RV, that would fill all our needs, we could live in the RV while we rebuilt the fish camp as well as giving us a trailer to move our belongings in. As soon as we picked up the RV we began to pack everything we owned, did I mention my husband is a pack rat? And we packed and  packed, and packed,  until we were without a doubt ten thousand pounds overweight. making our trip across the Pennsylvania mountains very memorable. We tied a rowboat and wheelbarrow on the roof of the trailer, hung two bikes on a rack , and left  two curious cats perched comfortably at the back window.
          As we climbed the side of the mountain our Ford 350 dually had all it could handle, meaning 50 MPH was pushing the envelope. The clearance lights on the truck and trailer blinked off and on throughout the entire trip. We had been christened Noah's Ark by the truck drivers, and we must have been quite amusing, because the trucks coming from the opposite direction would exclaim.
"Oh my gosh, there it is they weren‘t kidding." We undoubtedly created untold hours of enjoyment to passer-by’s. 
Finally we crossed from Ohio, briefly across a corner of Kentucky and into Indiana, we are almost there I sighed still a bit concerned about the way Stephen had laughed when I warned him about the electric and running water. Minutes later the engine who admittedly had  been stressed past the limits of any self respecting  machine began making a very strange noise, I was driving at the time and pulled over with  Stephen hollering in my ear don’t shut it off. Well he was just a smidgeon too late. Four hours later we were back on the interstate running on the 4 of the 8 cylinders we had left. Stephen assured me we were close enough we could nurse the truck on to the property and he could fix the truck once we arrived. Of course I had complete confidence and had no idea how far away the nearest store was so I insisted on one more stop to pick up some fresh milk, eggs, coffee and a few essentials.  Back on the road and getting very close now we both breathed a sigh of relief and were lulled back into complacency then suddenly the scent of something unusual aroused my awareness to what looked to be steam coming from the engine cover, better known as the “doghouse.” We pulled to the side of the road only to find the stress of running on now three of the engines eight cylinders were causing the engine to overheat and in turn set the carpet covering of the doghouse to smolder. After it had cooled down we returned to the road pulling over as the engine needed to cool a little, making an already four day trip very slow.
Finally, we pulled into our new driveway late on a Friday afternoon. We got out to stretch our legs and to clear the spot to park the RV. I opened up the  RV while Steve attached the sewer pipe, hooked up the water and plugged the electric cable in.
“OK, check the lights,” Steve called to me. Reaching across some boxes I flipped the switch to the dining room lights, nothing, my heart sank.
“No, nothing,” I called back.
The afternoon was waning quickly so we drove across the bridge to the neighboring town to call the electric company. It seems the electric company hadn't made it around to us yet and didn't expect to get out our way until Wednesday of the next week. Did I mention the middle of no where? Without electricity we couldn't run the pump, no pump, no water, no water no bathroom. Yup there we were smack dab in the middle of the good life. 
Making the most of  a bad situation we found a nice little café at the edge of town. A nice meal and some quiet conversation did a lot to sooth frayed nerves. By the time we got back to our new home the sun had gone down. We were thankful for twelve volt lighting and the propane refrigerator that came in the RV. Saturday and Sunday we kept busy working on the property, clearing brush and preparing the spot we would be planting the garden. Each night we would listen to the radio, and read homestead how to magazines by twelve volt lighting and candles.
Sure enough Wednesday afternoon finally arrived along with the electric company, and the phone company. We were finally up and running, well on our way to The Good Life.
 
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