Chilliwack

We are en route to Port Alberni, without Sybil. The RV has been deemed too scary for mountains (not to mention that she doesn't start without some serious electrical voodoo) and is parked at a farm, awaiting our visit in the spring, when we will hopefully take her on an Alberta road trip to visit family and take in the North Country Fair. We've got our little car, the kitties, a roof rack and bubble. We have no things. No dishes, towels, pillows. No toys. No books. No can opener. Tomorrow we ride the ferry to the Island and start looking for an apartment.

Right now The Man is walking Birdie Boy around the Travelodge, trying to get him back to sleep. with the drive, even trying to keep down to only 4-5 hours of car time a day, his erratic sleeping habits have gotten even more nutty. I've seen more sunrises lately than I care to.

Here he is crashed out in the car with a popsicle. When I tried to remove the popsicle he would wake up and cry until I slipped the stick back into his little paw.



We've had time for some stops, mostly taken in various states of undress. It's been hot and smokey.

We also got to stop at the Enchanted Forest, just west of Three Valley. I haven't been there since I was a kid. Of course, the best part was watching Smootch - heavy into her fairytale time - explore the castle and forest.

If you do plan on visiting yourself, bring lots of quarters for fish and duck food. Smootch highly recommends getting up close with the ducks. Apparently it is an experience to write home about :)

I'll update next time I find some internet and time. The Man just brought back some wild picked blackberries and a wide awake Birdie Boy so we're off to do some impromtu harvesting. Later!

Plan B

Alrighty, so Sybil is still in the shop and will probably be there until monday, making it a full week without our things. Sybil's electric system is best described as majorly screwed up. Buddy who had it before did his own electrical work, and it seems he's a bit of an idiot. This, my friends, is a lesson learnt. Painfully.

On the upside, so far, looks like having only 2 days worth of clothes with us is just fine, providing there is a laundry within reach. We've decided to park Sybil, once she's sprung from the shop, out on a farm for the winter (where she's got lots of space and playmates in other abandoned vehicles) and when we come back in the spring we shall have a mobile home to do our two month visiting/festival stint in May and June. In theory.

This winter we shall still be on Vancouver Island. In fact, we hope to leave this coming wednesday, with 4 days travel (cats and kids, need lots of breaks) and be there by the weekend. The plan is to find some accommodation for the winter, with our very few possessions (have I mentioned that our car is a two door Neon sport), picking up what is needed in terms of livingware at the Free Store in Port Alberni.

The Free Store? What is that and why does it sound so cool?

Glad you asked! The Free Store is just as it sounds, with a significant portion of the second hand items offered being completely free (just take it!) and the rest being just a dollar or two. Drop off stuff costs a couple of bucks, but they do not refuse anything. The underlying principals are diverting goods from the landfill and encouraging reconsumption (their term) rather than consumption with the buying of the new, resource use heavy, goods. My kind of place, which also happens to be the brainchild of a couple of friends, but I've never been. (Nic, have you?)

This weekend we'll proceed with our scheduled camp trip with The Man's parental units and their parental units out in the Rockies. Smootch has already gone ahead, leaving us a few days early, preferring to spend her time basking under the full attention of two sets of grandparents rather than hang out with her very distracted and busy parents and the brother that bites and hits. (I just can't understand that girl's reasoning?! :D) Of course, we are borrowing a trailer for the camp (mama don't do no tent. Well, except when she does.)

We'll be back for monday, winterize Sybil (if she ever gets out of the shop) and clear up some final details (including the testing within range of our vet office of the kitty dope we're getting to help the cats relax on the car ride - I feel terrible for those critters and hope to do good for them at the end of this ride). Stuff - house, rv, books, games, toys - these are the things that have proven themselves to be the headaches of the past month and a half. I wish to be lighter, so much lighter!

Sybil

Hi. I have some pictures from you, which I am not going to show you now because I can't. Actually, I can't view my own blogs either, since I am on a borrowed computer and apparently my sites contain 'adult content' and are blocked from teenagers (thank god I am not a teenager anymore.) So, just a quick hello, and give you an update on what's happening.

Sybil, aka The Bitch (I don't know how these 'adult content' ideas get started) is not acting like a good RV. Which is too bad, because I had high hopes for her. She's in the shop now, again, after two AMA calls, one tow, a smashed out back window, a need to buy a little gizmo that tells how many volts are in the battery (new battery, btw, and new alternater, that somehow drains WHILE DRIVING), a discovery of leaks in the fresh water that drains into storage areas and the place I happen to put my pots and pans, a discovery we will NEVER have hot water (or at least, without paying a whole 1/4 of what we paid for the whole RV), and learning that goes at 5 miles/gallon.

Five miles per a gallon.

I know RVs have issues, and older ones even more so, but when three different mechancial shops inspect, fix, and charge what has basically doubled our purchase price, all the while they assure us that she's a fabulous buy and runs great (which she does, actually, if you can get her going), not to mention the previous owners assertion that, 'Oh yeah, she runs great, by!' and then you find yourself calling AMA again... well, there is some serious discussion of cutting our losses and dashing to the Island in the car.

Okay, enough complaining (I know my MIL, who we are staying with for a few days, is thinking the same thing). I shall check in again soon. Hope y'all had a great week!

launch... delayed

The u-haul for the sentimentals isn't coming until sunday. But we're only two days behind (not bad, unassembling an entire household with two small and very active children underfoot. We're pretty out the door, just some last details and probably a day of cleaning up the house for the new family.

I keep hearing that we should be worried about our children being too close in the RV. Like we're going to be couped up with a couple of understimulated and hyper active kids. I will miss the 750 or so extra square feet I have in our house. Hmmmm. Maybe, some days. But as of right now, the only place the children give me space is in Sybil. In the house, they climb on me, cling to my skirts and kneecaps (very uncomfortable), and bug me to watch a show.



In the RV, Birdie Boy stations himself at the wheel (no fakey hotwheels dashboard for this boy) and Smootch visits her books in the bedroom and I have an unaccustomed amount of room to move. The novelty will wear off soon, most likely, but that is when I can toss the kids out into the backyard, aka, the whole world.

So, two more days. It seems like forever, but I've waited a long time for this journey already, so I'll just do what I would tell the kids to do: focus on what needs done, take some breaks to have fun, and before I know it, we'll be off.

me me me

A little while ago I was asked to write a guest post for Things Mommies Love blog, which, after some procrastination, I did. It should be appearing August 6th. I’ve also been asked to provide a picture and a small biographical paragraph. No probl… wait. A small autobiographical paragraph is an amazingly difficult task. Sure, I wrote seven thousand words about contemporary women’s relationship with handicrafts - that was fun! - but a hundred or so about me? Ummm… no, thank you.

I have a picture. It’s the only one I could find in recent months where my mouth isn’t beginning to form the sentence, “Don’t you dare take a picture of me!”

Biographical details? Yes, I suppose I could give myself a number of labels. Like mom. Or vegan. And unschooling parent, life long learner, sewer/pattern maker, blogger. I can even add deliberately homeless (or soon to be). But, of course, that says nothing about me really.

I could say something about walking a fairly regular path until about high school, when I decided to get a life instead of a diploma. Since then I’ve done some roaming (sea to sea in Canada), some reading (probably 10 thousand books or more), some formal educating (B of A degree, with distinction, thank you), some socializing (partying), some breeding (two gorgeous kids), and some life partnering (who also did many of these other things with me). All of which, in actual fact, makes me fairly typical (my ego believes otherwise, but I’ve also learnt to not take Ego’s advice very seriously).

You are going to say that I am over thinking this. Just say it plain, Charity, get over yourself. I am a vegan, unschooling mama to a preschooler and a toddler, and a partner to a great man. Hmmmm. Or maybe I am wife, mother, and pattern maker. Or could be that I am a business owner and creative craftsperson, who also happens to have a beautiful family and a 30 foot RV. What can I say that doesn’t make one aspect of myself more important than another?

And now I am feeling rather narcissistic. Not in the clinical sense, but like maybe my time could be better spent getting lunch on for that beautiful family.

Alright. To get it over with, what do you think of this:

Charity Beasley, aka Vegbee, spent too much time deliberating (obsessing) about what to write for her biographical paragraph that she ran out of time and decided you could find out for yourself on her blogs found here and here. If you figure her out, you can help by emailing her at vegbee@littleprintdesigns.com and let her know because she still doesn’t have a clue.