Just this morning I filled out the little campground form with our vehicle info and length of stay, folded a check into the envelope, and dropped it in the “iron ranger” at the entrance to the campground. Then I clipped my reservation to the post in front of our site.
So it’s official: I’ve paid rent for another week. This is the longest we’ve stayed in one place since Small Country, and most likely will be until this winter when we’re in the Keys (if we get there).
So what are we doing with all this time in one place?
The photo up top is my workout spot when it’s sunny (the tent provides shade and a little privacy); when I want more privacy (who wants vacationers watching you do awkward sit-ups?) I’ll pull the outdoor rug and yoga mats to the back of the trailer. My only audience there are our full-time neighbors who do tai chi sometimes, so we’re compatriots in a way.
Biking the Neighborhood
The Washburn neighborhood is delightfully quirky. Old houses with huge flower gardens. Everyone with kayaks and canoes in the back, one with a giant sailboat around the corner. Small houses with huge garages for ATVs, snowmobiles, all manner of tow and travel trailers. The Washburn Meditation Center right beside the library, with young people lounging in the the grass between. Lawn ornaments, formal gardens, wild gardens, a vintage VW Beatle that’s been gutted, waiting for renovation. A quiet neighborhood where people wonder who you are when you bike by.
Cooking and Eating!
As you can tell, I’ve fallen in love with whitefish from the lake. It’s delicate and moist, not meaty like salmon or tuna. I’m not a big meat fan so this is my new favorite. We’ve been eating it smoked and freshly fried. Thank you Chef Tracy. He cooks, I clean after.
We both take our time sitting at the table, looking out over the field to the lake, listening to the world.
Enjoying Our Yard
This area behind the trailer is wide-open mown grass (that we don’t have to mow, hah!) and a strip of wild grasses to the lake, with gulls and hummingbirds and herons and bees and butterflies and dragonflies galore.
We sit out here first thing while we’re having coffee and tea and planning the day, at lunch at the picnic table (or in the tent if it’s hot), and in the evening to play cards and bocce, sit by the fire, listen to music, watch the sky. It’s like an all-you-can-enjoy vacation spot.
For bocce, I take the yellow balls. I usually start out strong and then feel full of myself and let the rest of my pitches go wild. Banjo is so nonplussed by us throwing balls right by her that we have to make her move out of the way. She cares not.
I spent about an hour knitting yesterday at the picnic table, and the sounds of the water lapping against the rocks and the gulls crying lulled me into that kind of stupor you enter when you sit on a beach and forget what day it is. Knitting lets you keep busy one part of your brain and free up the other part to listen and feel.
Enjoying the Evening
Last night we broke out the propane firepit since it’s been so cool here, and Banjo declared it a poor substitute for the fireplace back at our old house, which she would roast herself by until we made her move.
We love it though: instant warmth without the smell of smoke in your clothes. (When you camp full-time, that smell gets old in a hurry).
Banjo’s still getting several walks a day and lots of naps in the grass, although sometimes sleeping outside is just too much effort so she wants to go in to her proper bed.
It’s surprisingly relaxing not to be thinking about where next, how to get there, what to do there, how to optimize our time here before we leave.
One more week here seems just about right. We do live in a home with wheels, after all, and there’s more out there to explore.
I’m liking just being for a while, in the meantime.
Cheers from my sofa by the fire.