June '25 Blog Entries For Bard's Hall

Seeking New Adventures

         Attention StephBee and Ẃeβ࿚Ẃỉtcĥ "The Bard's Hall Contest"  This is my first entry.

         

         

         

         Hubby and I did it. We acknowledged that we are now of that certain age when the R word looms and shimmers with possibilities. Retirement is beckoning. For years it hovered in those swirling mists of tomorrow playing hide and seek with someday.

         Oh sure, it dropped clues that we tripped over. There were the bubbly waitresses that burbled, "You do know that we honour a senior's discount."

         As our respective birthdays ticked by our three children didn't hesitate to augment our memories by prompting, "It'll soon be time, won't it?"

         Extended family and friends believed themselves to be subtle and sensitive. "So, what are your plans? You gotta have ideas."

         Government pensions discovered our bank accounts and began to leave monthly souvenirs of their benevolence.

         So, my partner and I hemmed and hawed. I hesitate to say we mulled it over because any reference to the aging of fine wine seems melodramatic and we are not molding in a cellar. We researched. We wandered around trade shows. We indulged our curiosity with YouTube videos. Our vision took shape. We would travel.

         To be a bit more specific, we decided we would become RVers, fulltime nomads, just not quite yet. To achieve this requires so much planning and we're not yet on that threshold. The prospect, or rather undeniable need to purge and downsize is daunting.

          What will become of my indoor grow op.? I cannot abandon all of my plants. Who will adopt my library? Those books are my friends. With some reconfiguring and other sacrifices at least I may not have to relinquish everything. Would it be prudent to give up our apartment? Re-entering the rental market in the future could be costly. When would I reconnect with family if I committed to non-stop travelling? What do I do with a lifetime collection of bakeware and Tupperware? What becomes of all the framed photos? Could some of them be afixed to an RV's ceiling?

         We are postponing all of that fretting for now. In April, we purchased a new recreational vehicle, a tow behind trailer. Despite the considerable considerations we invested, it still seems like an impulsive act. We had taken that first decisive step. We still had to empty and clean the trailer at our seasonal site plus sell it. We had not been proactive in choosing where this new RV could be parked. I did mention we rent an apartment, did I not? It would require something more than a car parking spot.

         In the somethings-are-just-meant-to-be category, our poor man's cottage aka the old trailer sold and found its new owner. For the final time, we stumbled up and down the ramp hubby had built for me and my cantankerous knees. We clomped across the deck he had constructed to access our camping supplies. We sorted through the various gadgets, tools and canvas lawn chairs in the super shed, so nicknamed by the kids. We experienced a pre-purge.

         Everything we deemed to be necessary to continue camping we transported to our backyard, well, the plot of land behind the three-unit building we call home. Yep, our new RV awaited us there. Camping, or more accurately its preparation, is exhausting work. For days we lugged, hoisted, and unpacked.

         At some point, we tested our new electric awning and unfurled it with the stroke of a button. To rest our weary legs we shook out a couple of chairs and sat in the shade. As we envisioned actual forays in the now stuffed RV, a truck drove up next to us and a uniformed man emerged to greet us. Hubby recognized our visitor to be the local bylaw officer.

         "Hi. Aren't you Chris' parents?"

         We squinted and nodded affirmation.

         "You live here, dontcha? Eddie still the landlord?"

         We answered, "Yes. What's up?"

         "Well, a concerned citizen phoned in her complaints. She said it looked like somebody was moving into a trailer and that they looked too comfortable."

         Hubby and I burst out laughing and waved in the general direction of the village municipal office next door to us. We had noticed the woman lurking as we toiled.

         "You never can tell nowadays. I can see you don't reside in this very spot. Homelessness is an issue, even here. I found a woman living in the garbage shed at the arena this past winter. I'm obliged to check out everything."

         We never considered that our RV would go unnoticed in its current temporary location, but we also never thought it would bother another citizen. Nosey woman? Perhaps. That sad story about a poor woman's housing predicament shocked us. If it could occur here in a Northern Ontario settlement of one-thousand people, it could happen anywhere.

         It is sobering to think that I have the luxury of altering my living arrangements while someone else struggles to sleep in a safe space.          818 words