What Does Comfort Mean?

We’ve been spending a week in a house, a real house, with a life-size kitchen and hot running water and actual bedrooms with doors that close and a hair dryer in the bathroom. A hair dryer! In other words: comfort. 

Yes, I’ve really enjoyed this house. The soft sofa, especially welcome the day after we both got the shingles vaccine. Clothes washing whenever I want, with no travel, no coins, no scheduling. I’ve washed everything I could get out of the trailer, even the curtains. 

So Much Space

The sheer space of a house has been an eye-opener.  Did you know that if you want to talk on the phone privately in a house you can go in another room and close the door?!?  Amazing.  (I’ve found it’s not that I want to keep info from the other person as much as I appreciate having only one listener, not having to consider how my words might affect two. It’s simply easier.)

In this house, I’ve been able to do all my physical therapy exercises on the floor each day, without Banjo or Tracy stepping over me in the Airstream hallway. I could even take a nap without any interruptions. I think I’d forgotten you could live with someone and still have privacy.  

So much space is kind of weird, though. For instance, with the few exceptions above, we’re all still right on top of each other here. Take Banjo, for example. Tracy and I tried to remember what her behavior was like in the house before we hit the road, and it seems like she did spend time in other rooms, mostly sleeping on patches of sunshine. Here, she’s underfoot or lying right in front of the door, making sure we don’t leave her behind. Heck, Tracy and I are rarely a few feet from each other, as well. Seems the three of us are a tight pack no matter the size of our den.   

Banjo has managed to hog the blanket when I’m trying to use it on the sofa. It’s a trick how she does this from the floor.

Damned Stairs

My friend Mary Margaret told me recently that sets of stairs get to be exhausting. Damned if she’s right.  It’s a constant battle, trying to suss if you’ve gathered everything to go upstairs so you can make only one trip.  Three or four is more like it. 

Plus, I booked this house because the bathroom is on the first floor, worried my knee might not be able to do stairs. It can, though, and the best bedroom is upstairs, which means middle-of-the-night, careful trips up and down to pee. Goodbye, getting back to sleep. 

I really do miss the fact that everything in the trailer is just an arm’s reach away. 

Things Are the Point

And the clutter here! Piles of items to go up or down the steps, piles of dishes to be washed, piles of packages to deal with. That’s the thing about living in a super-small space: you are forced to put everything away pronto. Here in the house it’s like things are the focal point, things here and things there, things to deal with everywhere.  

A thing: Banjo’s bright new collar.

Moving Back

Speaking of things, we’re starting to gather up all our stuff to prepare to move back into the Airstream.  The service center said it’s ready!  Turns out the sealant tubing stuff around the “trunk” storage in the back was leaking rain water into the trailer.  They replaced the sealant as well as the back half of the floor.  

Come Monday, we’re going back to Ohio, to the storage unit first to pick up the shelving and drawers we need to reassemble in the trailer, and then to Airstream to start moving all our crap back in.

This time maybe it won’t feel like “crap” because we’ve sorted and washed and donated and trashed and reorganized. Kind of.  We also kind of frantically shoved stuff in storage all willy nilly, so we shall see. 

I’m looking forward to being back in my neat little home, where comfort means everything has its place and all is nearby. And I’ll have clean curtains! Most important, we’ll be ready to resume our travel adventures at our preferred pace, for the first time since November.

Edited to add: I realize I sound insane. But, consider my earlier post about living in the trailer as a means to a life outside. Since I tore my ACL, I haven’t been living that life. I’ll get back to it though, and first I need to get back in the Airstream.