“NOOOOO!” I wailed, as the blue “Welcome to California” sign with its painted orange poppy flashed past.
Just like that, like it or not, here we are. Back to celebrate the holidays with family, spend time with friends, take care of dental and vet appointments before resuming the nomadic life early next year. Oh, and attend to the mountain of accumulated mail and paperwork (the thing that separates man from beast).
We’re acclimating at Chad’s grandfather’s house. It’s somewhat rural with tall pines, a rooster on a strict schedule, and views of tree clad foothills beyond.
Chad’s grandfather built the home himself in the 1960s, and though he passed away in the early 2000s, his home’s still here.
I never met him, but am able to piece together details of who he was, someone with an independent spirit who knew what mattered and what he needed, and built his home accordingly. A kitchen and living area, bedroom, and bathroom. Outside a wide porch aimed at the views. And of course, ample space for The Other Woman, his beloved boat.
We’re parked in front of the house, and I love the visual: big grandfather and smaller grandson represented in the form of self-built homes.
It’s incredibly peaceful and relaxing, and because we’re on the grid, we’re always freshly showered; every dish sparkling. The first couple days after our arrival the washing machine churned and whirred, but as we’ve caught up its workload has slowed.
In a few days’ time we’ll be back in suburbia. Back to where we started. A vast relentless urban sprawl choked with pavement, cars, people, houses and stores. All the sounds, clamor and commotion, stars washed out by street lamps and headlights.
Back to reality… but wait. That’s not true – that’s no longer our reality.
For all the regions and miles we’ve traveled and explored over the last six months, there’s been a similar internal growth and reframing.
This new way of life became a new way of thinking, which in turn became a new reality.
So, no. We’re not going back to reality. We’re going back to the way we’re expected to live, the way many people live, the way we used to live.
We’re heading back to what’s considered normal, but c’mon. Normal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Wish us luck.
TRAVEL & ADVENTURE 