Flashback of a Flashback: A Rooted Moment

In September 2011, I lived in Caucasus Georgia, teaching English to police and to schoolchildren.

There was a day ....

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

A Rooted Moment

This morning, as I reviewed "furniture" with my police English class, the image of my old house came into my head. Specifically, the kitchen and dining room, with me wiping down the table and counter. The Sears & Roebuck oak table I'd bought at an auction ten bajillion years ago for $12.50, now belonging to new owners. The light that came through the kitchen's dutch door that goes out onto the back deck.

It was a moment of .... not regret, I don't think .... more of wistful remembrance.  It took me by surprise.

On Taking Annual Relocation Intermission in Missouri - In the Winter

 

Winter Cycle #5

Last year, I ended Year One in South Louisiana after Thanksgiving, and sojourned in Missouri for two months before returning to Louisiana for Year Two.

The time in Missouri resulted in an Important Life Lesson. Which was:  No, no, no, no, and no.

Visiting Missouri in December and January:

• Too cold
• Weather too unpredictable
• Days too short for local touristic activities
• Everybody is busy with holiday preparations or going out of town, so it's hard to find mutually-agreeable times to meet
• Flu season
• I'm not sure I ever saw the sun while I was there

Thank the baby deity that I don't have to do that ever again if I don't want to. This year, I'll be in South Louisiana until the end of February, and then I'll spend March in Missouri. March brings spring. The days are getting longer then. Crocuses bloom, and daffodils aren't far behind.

Icy daffodils.

Flashback to September 2010: "I'm Going Rootless"

Gee whiz, it's been five years since I wrote my first post: 
 
Tuesday, September 28, 2010


I'm going rootless. 

I've sold my house. Move-out day is October 15, and, as of today, I don't yet have a forwarding address.

I'm going rootless.

Rootless: Health Insurance

Last year was the first year for mandatory health insurance enrollment. 

I didn't enroll in the health insurance system in 2014 because:

• My legal residence is in one state, but my body is often outside that state. I had no idea how to enroll in a plan that would actually be of any use to me should I need it. Over the years, my experience with bureaucracies has shown that they don't know what to do about round pegs in square holes. The consequence is that the round peg is penalized in some way. (Not to mention that the legislators in my home state willfully sacrificed affordable access to their constituents in order to make a political point. They even made it a crime for state employees to give any advice to Missouri residents who had questions about enrolling in the ACA.)
• I'm very lucky to enjoy good health.
• It made more economic sense for me to pay the 2014 penalty for non-enrollment than to pay the insurance premiums.  

This year is different because:

The penalty for non-enrollment is significantly higher than it was in 2014, so I might as well get the insurance coverage, although with its ridiculous $6000 deductible, it's about worthless to me except in a catastrophic situation.

In fact, I'm appalled at two things: 1) that I'm paying so much every month for so little; and 2) that taxpayers are paying the extortionate monthly subsidy I qualify for - for this deplorable coverage  - in order to sustain a healthcare system that enriches a lucky few, wreaks financial, physical, and spiritual devastation on so many, and to top it off, is so disparate in its quality of services. These high-deductible plans - with the carriers getting so much money per month from the insured and the federal government - are like a happy financial windfall for them. 

But here is the silver lining: Some of the policies are eligible for health savings accounts. Now there's something I can get behind! The HSA is a pretty little creature:

• I can put tax-free money into it every year (there is an annual cap);
• I can use it for any medical or dental expense throughout the year (without paying tax on what I withdraw);
• Any unused money rolls over to the next year, so as the likelihood of my medical needs increase with my age, I'll have more HSA money at my disposal; 
• I can put the HSA into an investment account to grow my deposits; 
• Once in a lifetime, I can roll over an IRA into my HSA; and
• When I reach a certain age, I can treat my HSA just like an IRA. 

I think health insurance coverage will work for me for 2015, after a fashion. "Work for me" in the sense that I won't be assessed a tax penalty for the 2015 tax year. Unless I miscalculated my prospective income for the year and then I will be punished for same.

Will it work for me after that? Don't know, as I don't know where I'll be after 2015.

Hopefully, the current iteration of so-called "affordable" health care is merely a stepping stone to what we need to do in the USA - have single-payer health care. Medicare and Medicaid are already viable systems, so it's not like we have to invent any new wheels.

A final note: The singling out of smokers for higher premiums in the health care marketplace is discriminatory. Smoking has negative health effects, but no more so than some other behaviors such as driving while impaired, abusing substances (artificial or natural, legal or illegal, prescribed or not prescribed), and so on. There is a relationship between smoking and low socio-economic status. By targeting smokers for higher premiums, we are over-taxing the poor. (Disclosure: I am not a smoker, but I used to be.)


P.S.: I just saw where my insurance carrier has Dr. Oz on its home page. Imagine. Dr. Oz, who dispenses snake oil along with medicine.  Jeez.

,

Rootless Movies: Without Bound - Perspectives on Mobile Living

There is "....a continuum of people who live in a vehicle." Source: Without Bound: Perspectives on Mobile Living.

I saw reference to this documentary about wheeled "full-timers" over on Good Luck Duck. The film is about mobile dwellers. Well, it's about some mobile dwellers with a certain perspective.

In order of appearance, the full-timers are: 

• vagabloggers dot com (which provokes a warning from my browser when I attempt to go there)
• Randy Vinings at Mobile Kodgers
• Laurie Theodoro
• arizonaexplorations.com
• Chris Carrington
• Steve
• Cheri

Randy Vinings was inspired by Thoreau's Walden: "Why would you work all of your life so you could have a little bit of freedom at the end of your life, when, if  you could live efficiently, you could invent your own life now?"

Laurie Theodoro also drew inspiration from Thoreau:  "[what is] the essential of things .. what [is] the real marrow of life?" 

I like the documentary in that it shows a viable way of living that many Americans may not know about. It's a way of living I could see myself doing some day. 

Some of the most useful information came toward the end of the film - how much it cost to sustain oneself as a full-timer who lives in a wheeled shelter:

• Steven at arizonaexplorations.com --> ~ $500 per month
• Randy at mobilecodgers.blogspot.com --> less than $600 per month
• Cheri --> $630 per month

But sheesh, there's so much smug talk about the people who "don't get it" - who are prisoners of their stuff or their ball-and-chain houses. Overall, the documentary felt very didactic. A pity.

There's also a MAJOR piece of information that is only alluded to - the cost of  purchasing and outfitting one's wheeled home. There was also silence on another important fact of mobile living - maintenance and repairs of one's vehicle-shelter. The cost of living like a turtle will vary widely, depending not only on the complexity and age of one's rig, but on the DIY abilities you have.

But I'll leave on a positive note from one of the full-timers: "Choose your life." Amen.

Rootless: Letting Go

November 24: What I have below is my first draft. Since I wrote it, I took back the hat. And some of the coozies. 



Getting ready for my move at the end of the month.

Letting go of some things are easy, like the saucepot I bought second-hand years ago, which takes forever to heat up its contents on an electric stove. Enough! Out you go.

The 20 coozies I've collected this year. Easy come, easy go. Plastic parade cups, ditto.

I tried to find a reason to keep some of my Mardi Gras bead collection, and I feel a little wrench about letting them go, but groups recycle beads here and I like the idea that my beads will get re-thrown and caught by another happy reveler.

Can you believe I've carted around a plug-in electric burner for longer than my daughter has been alive? I can't even think of when I've used it last. Time for it to go. Irrational, but this hurts a little.

I'm releasing a hat. 

 A couple of reference books will go.

I already donated back three of the chairs I bought from the local Habitat for Humanity's Re-Store.

A box of clothes for Goodwill stands by.


 

Rootless: It's Getting to be That Time Again

It's mid-October and my year in South Louisiana is almost up.

It means consolidating spices. I know, I know, this may make some foodies cringe, the idea of pouring leftover spices into one container. Also, I'm not gifted in knowing which spices complement each other, so it's a gamble if it will work out OK. As long as salt is involved, however, it's good enough for me.

Here's my current list of things I'll need to consume, release or decide to keep before I quit my 2014 spell in South Louisiana (notice how carefully I am wording that): 

• Spices (consolidating as already noted)
• Four side chairs
• Folding table (large)
• Full-length mirror
• Mardi Gras beads! 
• Salvaged cabinet
• My wonderful red "bed" 
• Tent + tarp
• Camp stove
• Sleeping bag
• Tea
• Canned soup
• Coozies
• Coffee mug
• Various pots and pans
• Vacuum cleaner (which worked when I left New Mexico and then, inexplicably, didn't when I arrived in Louisiana - probably an easy fix)

For now, I'll keep these as part of my rootless trousseau:

• Bed linens
• Bath towels/cloths
• Dish towels
• Plastic, child-size plates/cups
• Stainless flatware
• Folding table (small)
• Tension curtain rod
• Fabric shower curtain
• Plastic storage drawers on wheels
• Technical devices
• Shelf stereo
• Two coffee mugs (one from New Mexico and one from South Louisiana)
• Two folding canvas chairs

At the end of November, I'll return to Missouri for a one- or two-month visit before going to my 2015 base (which is kinda open for grabs again). My car will be significantly lighter this year than last.

In September 2013, here were lessons learned in my New Mexico year about furnishing a temporary home. Below are two views of what I packed into my car when leaving Alamogordo:

What I took with me when I left New Mexico

What I took with me when I left New Mexico

If I decide to do another domestic turn for 2015, I think I'll do some of my second-hand shopping in Missouri and carry it with me to my new place. The difference between second-hand Lafayette and second-hand Alamogordo was a shocker, both in price and selection. Second-hand Lafayette is more expensive than Alamogordo and Lafayette's selection of household items is abysmal.


  

Rootless: Long Walk: "This Wild Call From Inside Me"

Sarah Marquis. Source: Femina

"After a year, year and a half, I get this urge to go. I get cranky. And my family says, ‘All right, it’s time to go.’"

Source: New York Times, 25 September 2014.

Sarah Marquis is one of National Geographic's Adventurers of the Year for 2014.

The New York Times has a long interview with her in The Woman Who Walked 10,000 Miles in Three Years.

I like reading about women who take long journeys. Some previous examples: 

Rootless Lit: Eighty Days - about Nelly Bly's and Elizabeth Bisland's competitive race around the world in 1889.

Janet Moreland's (a fellow Missourian of a certain age) solo kayak trek down the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers in 2013.

"One Thing That Scares You A Day Keeps Apathy at Bay" with references to Molly Langmuir's solo hike in the Grand Tetons and Cheryl Strayed's solo hike on the Pacific Crest Trail.

Sisters of Sinai: How Two Lady Adventurers Discovered the Hidden Gospels around the turn of the 20th century.

Rootless Review: Looking Back

2013: July 14 in New Mexico: Trains and rain

Leaving Raton, New Mexico. July 2014.

I wrote about my drive back home to Alamogordo from Raton.

What is it about trains and song?


2012: July 13 in Istanbul: Bandana girl and leeches at the Spice Market

 The highlights of the Spice Market in Istanbul were the bandana-girl thief and the jar of leeches.

Leeches at the Spice Market, Istanbul, Turkey. July 2012.

2011: July 14 - Caucasus Georgia

Three years ago today, I was getting ready to leave the U.S. for Caucasus Georgia.

Racha, Caucasus Georgia

The day before a year-long adventure.

I've been very lucky.  

Rootless: On Getting a Puppy

It's not really a puppy, but kind of like a puppy

No, I haven't got a real puppy. But I have aquired something like a puppy. I've got to learn its ways, train it, and be trained by it.

I've got to keep track of it, so it doesn't get lost or stolen. I can handle it playfully, but not roughly.


It's not really a phone, but it's called a phone

It's a smart phone, my first. Only to call it a smartphone is a misnomer. It is a mini computer with a phone application.

This is not just semantics. How I view my new puppy affects how I socialize it with the world.

With my soon-to-be-old "dumbphone" - let's say my pet "turtle" - I could:

• Make and receive phone calls;
• Laboriously write texts and check email; and
• Make limited forays onto the internet. 

I had little concern about privacy boundaries or theft or malware because the dumbphone itself was like a turtle. A built-in shell for protection, by dint of its limited features, and thus easily monitored or caught if it meandered off, too humble to attract unwanted attention from strangers.

It's an entirely different story with my mini-computer.


Why did I get this puppy?

Being rootless, why would I want to be tied down with a puppy? Sheesh, now I've got to worry about dropping the damn thing or the glass will crack. It's cute and sweet and thereby attractive to strangers who might like to adopt it for themselves, so I've got to always have my radar on to make sure I know where it is. And it requires so much training - for the little one and me - to become true pals.

There are several reasons why I went this route: 

1. My turtle phone was on its last legs - that reliable, albeit limited, $30 phone I've had for years, with the cute little teeth marks on the top left-hand corner.  
2. My laptop is getting on in years and it could go belly up at any time, and I need a sophisticated, on-the-spot back-up to turn to for my work. 
3. I'll be headed out of the country again soon and I want an unlocked mini-computer that can run by wifi or a data plan. 

An invisible fence

When I bought my little puppy, I was still thinking of it as a phone. A phone with a lot of very cool enhancements. Consequently, I was startled by the decisions I had to make right away. Such as:

• What personal bits about myself - my data exhaust - did I want to have on this device? 
• What apps did I want to download - and what information was I willing to share in order to get these apps? 
• How could I enjoy all the benefits of a mini-computer without leaving a trail of personal me everywhere I went? 
• How many ads - if any - can I tolerate in exchange for a "free" app? 
• What data am I willing to lose if my mini-computer falls into the hands of strangers? 
• Like a puppy, I'm not willing to let my little device sit in a hot car for hours while I'm off canoeing or swimming or doing something else that puts it at risk. So do I change my habits and just leave it at home for such activities? 

Some decisions I've made (and it might make sense here to note that I've bought an Android device): 

1. Thank God, I have more than one email address (hehehe), so I chose one of my little-used accounts to be the email account on my device. I can put some distance between this account and me-central.
2. Do I really need to download a free game that requires access to my contact list? Hell, no! No games for you, little puppy! 
3. Do I need to download Kindle to my mini-computer? No, I've got a kindle e-reader, and I don't want to connect my Amazon account to my device. If I want to read, that's what my e-reader is for. Or an actual book. 
4. Do I want to stay signed in to my Skype account on my device? No; I've only got it on there as a back-up, and I don't ever want to make another mistake call to a work-related client.Whoops. (The lil' puppy is so eager to please, it tries to anticipate what you want by going to fetch somebody else's paper. Bad boy.) 

I'm trying to find the right balance between security and maximum fun + utility.

Again, it's all about safe sex.


What'd I buy? 

Short answer: Moto G 4LTE.

Longer answer: It was all about: 

• Excellent reviews;
• Budget; 
• Long battery life; 
• Unlocked and GSM for international use; and
• Android operating system. 

  

Rootless: Life-Work Balance Out of Whack

In his book, The Fifth Discipline, Peter Senge used the analogy of a kitchen faucet to make a point about the lag time between making a change and seeing the desired results. Well, it was about more than that, but I'm going to borrow it for my own purpose.

Say you want some warm water. You turn on the hot and cold water handles, but the water remains cold. So you open up the hot water handle some more, and the water's still too cold, so you close up the cold water a little bit, and then all of a sudden the water's too hot, so you have to adjust the hot and cold handles again til you get the temp where you want it. There's always a lag time between an action and a reaction.

I wanted more EFL students so I could increase my income ... and little by little I got more. Yay!

Then came this one night when I realized that even though I'd completed my last class a few hours earlier, I was still doing related administrative work. About the same time, I was wondering, damn, what's happening to my creative life? 

You see what happened is this: I suddenly found myself with too much of a good thing! (I love teaching English online.) There wasn't much administrative work with my online teaching job, but what there was hadn't grown incrementally, it had grown exponentially, with the result that my work-personal life was completely out of whack.

But fortunately, the Universe looked kindly upon me. Because almost to the day that I realized my predicament, a hand reached out to me with an enticing invitation to consider a professional zag from my current zig. I accepted that invitation and one week from tomorrow, I will be working full time and yet have more personal time for creative, tourist-in-residence pursuits than I do now.

I'll still be in the EFL world, but not as an EFL teacher. I am wistful about not teaching, but enthusiastic about my new role. 

For now, I'm looking forward to a resumption of balance.   

Rootless: Goodbye, Friend

Time to say good-bye, friend.

You went with me to innumerable festivals, and to Ethiopia, to Mexico, to Caucasus Georgia, to Dubai, to Istanbul, to Armenia, to New Mexico, and finally, to Louisiana.

We were such a perfect fit. I liked resting my hand on your shoulder, and to have your arm draped across mine. You protected my valuables. You carried my books. My water. My camera. You never complained.

Who could have predicted all of the adventures we'd share when we first met at that second-hand store? 

I'll never forget you. 

Yes, even though I must replace you, know that you will always be my true love.

Goodbye, bag.

Rootlessness and Death Review

Today I received a reminder from the Social Security Administration to take a look at my future as it pertains to prospective Social Security benefits. I did take a look and I got some good info there about what to expect in my financial future.

Coincidentally, I noted that today some readers had looked at a post I did on Rootlessness and Death in January 2013.

It's still timely, so I'll re-post it here:

Cemetery, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

A recent article in the New York Times reminded me I need to take care of some business.

Getting your shit together 

The article is A Shocking Death, A Financial Lesson, and Help for Others, which introduced readers to the article subject's website: Get Your Shit Together. As in, start getting your affairs in order now so you or your loved ones don't have a mess to deal with later.  The information that the author, Chanel Reynolds, shares is very basic, but it is a good starting point.    

Cemetery, Istanbul

That includes your online life ... and death

Back here, I mentioned some vendors that keep all of your passwords (and access to online "assets" in general) in one place and pairs that with instructions from you to share the passwords with designated beneficiaries upon your death or incapacitation.  That is a service I want, but have I followed up on this? No, I have not.

Cemetery, Mtatsminda, Tbilisi, Georgia

The Digital Beyond is "... a blog about your digital existence and what happens to it after your death. We’re the go-to source for archival, cultural, legal and technical insights to help you predict and plan for the future of your online content." This site lists and compares "digital death and afterlife online services" here.












What I do have in place ... 

Advance directive - appropriately signed and notarized, with originals distributed to appropriate people. (The link goes to a place where you can download your state's advance directive forms.) Done.


All of my financial accounts have designated beneficiaries. When I say designated, that doesn't mean I wrote a list of my accounts and entered a name beside each entry on a piece of paper and that was the end of it. No, it means the financial institutions have this information and will automatically transfer ownership of said funds to the designated beneficiary upon proof of my death. You don't need a will to make this happen and, in fact, if you do have a will, the designated beneficiaries on your financial accounts will supersede any conflicting direction you may have in your will. (You know that nightmare situation where a guy made his 2nd wife the beneficiary of everything in his will, but he didn't take his 1st wife's name off of the financial accounts as beneficiary? You got it - the 1st wife wins the jackpot.) Done.

Cemetery, Missouri

 What I don't have ... because I don't need it


Life insurance. I have no mate, minor children, business partnerships, or debt. I have enough money to pay the expenses related to the disposition of my remains.  I don't feel the need to create a legacy via life insurance. So I don't need life insurance.

Cemetery, Armenia

The will

Alllaw has a nice list of DIY resources on wills. For my simple situation, I felt comfortable copying and adapting the Basic Will Form at the bottom of the Alllaw's page. Here's another guide to get someone started on doing up a will - with or without help.

I don't have this in the Done section yet because I'm just now completing it.

I'm not entirely convinced one is necessary for me, but it's easy to make a will (for someone, like me, with an uncomplicated asset-and-beneficiary life), plus having one will remove even the slightest hesitation about who's in charge of taking care of my stuff when I'm gone. I mean, I don't have much stuff (like that printer I just bought), but I do have some. And somebody's going to have to deal with it.

Cemetery, Lalibela, Ethiopia

Rootless Relocation 2015: Plans A, B, and C

I've started my relocation plans for 2015.

Plan A:

Go to the Middle East, make good money, and get behind the veil, so to speak, of being a woman in the country I select.

A caveat: I ruled out the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. To me, that'd be like being black and going to live in South Africa during apartheid. Why would I do that? Well, I wouldn't.


Plan B:

The front-runner for today is Mexico. Here's why:

• Six-month tourist visa that I can renew for another six months by a visa run to Guatemala. 
• Climate of my choice.
• I speak a little Spanish already. 
• Reliable, fast internet so I can continue to teach English online.  
• Affordable cost of living. 
• Diverse cultures, history, language, and geography. 
• The relocation cost isn't bad. 

Plan C:

Still wide open, but with these criteria:

• Mild climate
• Sun
• Affordable cost of living
• Reliable/fast internet
• Visa situation is such that I can spend a year in place, with low-hassle visa run(s) in that year 

About visas, I found this website that provides all of the basic visa requirements in every country, depending on your citizenship. I emphasize the word basic because it doesn't include information about visa renewals.



It's February now. So this time next year, I wonder where I'll be? 

News for the Rootless: Follow-Up

Back here, I listed news organs that I had on trial to get me better informed.

The list included

The Guardian
American Prospect
The Economist
Mother Jones
Schneier on Security


I also continued to dabble with the online Atlantic. Also, The New York Times and Washington Post.

Plus after that post, I'd added these information sites to my audition list:

Pro Publica
Bitch Media
Reuters


No thanks!

Atlantic. I finally weaned myself off the Atlantic entirely. I cannot abide the tabloid titles that seem geared primarily to college students. Why X is not Y. .... What Everyone Needs to Know About Z.... The Dark Side of W ....... The Most Dangerous Thing About D .... 

I've shoved the Atlantic into the same file drawer as celebrity "news."


Mother Jones and American Prospect. Again, tabloid-ish titles. Also, there seem to be stables of writers who presume to be journalists, but who apparently operate under very loose standards of objectivity, fact-finding, or even understanding of their subject matter. Where's the editorial oversight? Plus it's generally all bad news all the time. I'm done with both of them.

I'm sad about this because occasionally the above offer jewels of informational reporting, such as Mother Jones' series on prisons.   

When I stumbled on to Pro Publica, I thought I'd found a little nugget of gold. The honeymoon was over when I read its series on acetominaphen. While I have sincere respect for those who have lost loved ones to the drug, the low numbers of such deaths or injuries, in both absolute and relative terms, pale against deaths due to other causes. I just couldn't understand the blitzkrieg of attention focused on this. I still don't, and it killed credibility for me.


The yes list

The Guardian and The Economist. A rich mix of the good and bad about our world; the serious, curious, and frivolous; served up with a minimum of emotional button-pushing. 

Reuters. Pro Public did lead me to this article on Reuters. So when my little fling with Pro Public ended, I went over to the calmer, more thoughtful Reuters. The headlines tell the story in less than 10 words, without hysteria. Shooting Heard at Airport in Congo's Capital. ... Reduced Fed Support Reflected in January Bond-Buying Plan. ... Major Chinese Art Collection Set For Oxford Museum. ...  It's a calm retreat from the carnival side show that is typical of online news.

With The Guardian, The Economist, and Reuters, I get what I want - information that:

• Covers a wide breadth of subjects, 
• Covers varying degrees of depth into different subjects,
• Is accurate, based on what we know now, 
• Is relatively objective, and
• Refrains from manipulating my emotions.

Credit: Schneier on Security

Schneier on Security. I like this niche news source on two levels.

1. I get more informed on the technical side of security issues, which feeds my geek within, even though a lot of the comments go over my head.
2. Mr. Schneier takes a look at security issues and incidents from various angles, explaining why some incidents or variables are cause for alarm, why others are of minor or moderate concern even when they look alarming, and why things that might look innocuous could have troubling implications. 

Bitch Media.  This news source is provocative in a good way - it presents information from fresh perspectives that make us think. Sometimes the perspective is enlightening and sometimes it provokes strong disagreement. "Bitch Media’s mission is to provide and encourage an engaged, thoughtful feminist response to mainstream media and popular culture."

For the most part, it succeeds in its mission. Like most nonprofits, it runs the risk of mission creep, which could bring it down over time, but for now, that isn't too noticeable.

 

Credit: Bitch Media

Stuff: Frugality

I was doing my weekly load of laundry the other day, pulling items out of the dryer. When I pulled out a colorful bath towel, I observed it had a hole and a rip. As I folded the towel, I laughed because it reminded me of a family story:

My mother entered the kitchen and found two of her boys making oatmeal cookies. One of my brothers had promised to bring cookies to school for some celebration or another. Nothing amiss here.

Except they were both giggling while they spooned cookie batter onto the cookie sheets, so my mother knew something was up. Upon interrogation, she learned that they had used oatmeal recently brought home from the country cabin, which unbeknownst to her, but discovered by my brothers, had meal worms in it.

My brothers were ecstatic at the prospect of taking these protein-enriched cookies to the classroom for sharing!

My mother intervened and made some non-buggy oatmeal cookies for my brother to take to school. And my brothers ate the meal-worm cookies with gusto. Win-win.

So back to my hole-y towel.

Hole-y towel

I've got a few fabric items that are on their last legs. The towel, a winter nightgown, an ancient fleece jacket, and an over-large sweatshirt. This is the last winter for both the nightgown and the sweatshirt. The former is falling apart and the latter is stained. My Plan A is to relocate to the Middle East in 2015, so I'm counting on that tired jacket becoming obsolete.

It is pleasurable to look upon these items and know that come winter's end, I'll be recycling them into cleaning rags. And before I move next November, they'll be tossed.  Some day soon, probably on a whim, I'll cut up that towel for rags, but for now, I am reluctant to give up its color. It had already done someone service in a past life, then had been donated to Goodwill, where it was bought for my use.


I like frugality when it feels good in some way. If it doesn't feel good, then it's hardship. I've done both.

Rootless: On Doing Holidays Solo

Gutter sun, Oil Center, Lafayette, Louisiana

Most major holidays I'm not solo, but there are times, such as this Christmas, I have been.


Since my happiness is my responsibility and not the job of others, it's incumbent upon me to create a satisfying holiday. ... Hmm, that holds true when I'm solo and when I'm with family and old friends.

The now-memories of Christmas Eve 2013 are luminous. They didn't come to me; I went out and got them.


In 2010, I wrote Holidays for the Rootless, reposted below: 

Some reflections here:
Holiday Homesickness, from nunomad.com
Expat Celebrations: Tips For Spending Holidays Overseas, by Anne Merritt, from matadornetwork.com
Family Holiday Traditions and Living Abroad, by Betsy Burlingame, from expatexchange.com


The ideas are for people who are abroad, but they hold true for anyone, really, regardless of where they are.

Portable: Full-Timers

Villanueva State Park, New Mexico

I have two agendas for this post - one is to talk about full-timers and the other is to insinuate some of my loose-end New Mexico photos into the conversation. Specifically, my photos from Villanueva State Park, off of Highway 3.

What is a full-timer? 

I didn't hear the term "full-timers" til my New Mexico Year was almost finished. Before I had the proper handle, I referred to them as semi-permanent park residents.

I first heard "full-timers" at Villanueva State Park when I emerged from the pit toilet at the upper campground, shared a greeting with a gentleman there, who self-identified as a full-timer. His portable house was either a van or a smallish truck with a camper shell.

A lil rascal outside a pit toilet, Villanueva State Park, New Mexico

Like the folks at Oliver Lee Memorial State Park, this man was of a certain age. If I understood correctly, he was a scientist in the space industry in California before he retired.


Here's one definition of a full-timer from an RV perspective:  Full-Timing is living 365 days a year in an RV; Having an RV for a home.

RVs

I can live with every part of that sentence except for the use of the word RV, which I picture as a medium-to-large-to-massive rig that has more than one living space. My mental model about RVs has me scratching my head when I see the author of the definition note that "full-timing is an opportunity to .. live economically." 

I just don't get the economy of these unless one's financial bar is set significantly higher than mine to start with. Many RVs cost as much or more than a lot of houses in the U.S., they suck gas, maintenance is a frequent expense, and site rentals are not cheap. If you've got to trailer a car behind your rig and have reliable internet access, then your costs rise even further. 

So either I've got to be more relaxed about my understanding of what an RV is or I need to drill down some more for the niche of full-timers that reflect a clearer picture of the people I've met. 

Villanueva State Park, New Mexico

Migration

The definition above leaves out a component that I think is intrinsic to full-timers - migration, even if only twice a year to follow the winter or summer season. If I'm living in a home-on-wheels (to broaden the definition) in the same place year-round, am I really a full-timer? I don't think so. I think I'm just a person who happens to live in a home-on-wheels, not much different from someone who resides in a mobile home or a tiny house that is permanently sited on a parcel of land.

Villanueva State Park, New Mexico

Full-timer niches

Moving beyond RVs, there are people - by choice - living (and migrating) full-time in: 

• Trucks with shells
• Vans (Good Luck Duck has a blogroll of van dwellers here)
• Cars

I like the practical tips offered at Vagabond 101, which informs readers in a spare and straightforward way how to get started living a mobile life, whether by hitchhiking, train hopping, or car/truck/van dwelling. 

I don't rule out the possibility of some day living mobile in a van or a truck with a shell. I've ruled out car dwelling. I've already done a fair turn of sleeping in my car, and it's just too cramped. 

In the past, I've written about these full-timers (using the term loosely): 

• Homeless by Choice (on Glenn Campbell) (my use of the word homeless opens up a whole new line of discussion, but I'm not going there today)
• Houseless Not Homeless (on hobos)
• Modern Nomads

... and about that Villanueva State Park

The park has two levels. The lower level is pretty - the upper level is a wow. Every campsite up there with a walloping view; each has a three-sided stone shelter with a picnic table inside, and grand open windows. Well-maintained pit toilets. 

The park is off the lovely Highway 3 and near the historic village of Villanueva.

Rootless: Upstairs, Downstairs - or - Going With the Flow

When I moved to Alamogordo, I thought I knew what I wanted: A second-floor apartment. I didn't get that second-floor apartment, and I'm glad I didn't.

As a ground-floor tenant, I: 

• Had French doors that opened out to a private corner of a community back yard, with shade trees, grass, an attractive stone wall, and my bird feeder, 
• Realized utility savings during the summer when I ran the air conditioning,
• Didn't worry about the noise I made when I walked around upstairs (as the sound proofing of the floors was very poor), and
• When family visited, the ground-floor access was so easy for them. 

My back yard view from Alamogordo apartment

When I moved to Lafayette, I thought I knew what I wanted: A ground-floor apartment. I didn't get that ground-floor apartment, and I'm glad I didn't:

As a second-floor tenant, I: 

• Have the privacy I crave in a place where, if I were on the ground floor, there'd be frequent vehicle and person traffic going by my windows; 
• Enjoy a view of big, lush, green plant life next to slanted roofs, and 
• Can sit outside on the wrought-iron chaise on the veranda by my door and look at the view and not a parked car. 

View from apartment, Lafayette, Louisiana

Speaking of views from my places, one of my favorites is the windowsill in my bedroom at Nely's house in Rustavi, Caucasus Georgia. This was an upstairs place.

Windowsill view, Rustavi, Caucasus Georgia

View from bedroom window, Rustavi, Caucasus Georgia

This wasn't exactly my view from Azeb's house in Nazret, Ethiopia, but it was close:

View from Azeb's house, Nazret (Adama), Ethiopia

This was a ground-floor place. At 6:00 p.m. sharp, one must close the windows because that's when the bimbies (mosquitoes) come out. 

Rootless: Finding the Light

Bananas in light, St. Louis, Missouri

Whenever I enter my new apartment in Lafayette, I feel good. It’s a petite package. Feels cozy.

Truthfully, it’s also a little homely with its mishmash of salvaged floor surfaces, groaningly-ugly cabinet pulls, and how the sheet-metal back of the stove’s control panel faces the living area. I don’t care about these imperfections.

Lights in slats, Jefferson City, Missouri

There’s a big problem, though. No light. This is a function of the direction my windows face and the width of the eaves over my windows. It doesn’t help that several walls are chocolate brown, which would be lovely in many circumstances, but not this one.

I imagine the lack of sunlight in my Lafayette apartment will be a boon in the hot and humid summertime, but for everyday habitat, something must be done.

It reminds me of that hotel room I had in Lalibela, Ethiopia, in which town I had a major meltdown that distressed the city fathers. An excerpt of what happened after a gruelingly emotional day:

I went to my room, to my dark, depressing room, and discovered it hadn't been cleaned. Returned to the reception lobby, discovered that the custom is to turn in my key when I leave the hotel, so the staff know to clean it. Oh! Then I said, really, I need a different room. It is just too depressing. The assistant manager accompanied me back to my room. When we entered, he moved to turn on the light and I exclaimed, "The light is already on!" I said, "This is the room you give to someone who no longer has the will to live!"

It was not one of my finest moments.

Lamp glow, Warrenton, Missouri

 So I’ve got to gather some light.

Strategies I’ve implemented:

• Before I go to bed, I open the curtain in the living room so when I awaken in the morning, I actually know it’s daylight outside. Seriously.
• Open the bedroom blinds during the day so a little light can reach in.
• Unscrew all the bulbs in the bedroom’s ceiling fixture except for one, and keep it on when I’m home.
• Also keep one of the kitchen fixture lights on when I’m home. The kitchen is open to the living area.
• Open the front door for maximum sunlight during the day.
• Propped my full-length mirror against one of the brown walls in the bedroom so it can catch as much reflected light from the living area as possible. 
• Moved my office set-up so I am looking toward the door and window instead of where I had it originally, where I was facing toward the interior of my apartment (and the window at my side). 

Strategies I will execute soon:

• Work outside on the veranda regularly, weather permitting, so I can actually experience sun reaching my skin when I prop my feet against the balcony rail. Not to mention see the sunlight.
• If I can swing it, I’ll pick up a work table and chair that are tall so I’m level with the living room window. In other words, my head and torso will be above the windowsill.

I've had to gather light before. 

When I first arrived in Rustavi, (Caucasus) Georgia, I lived on the 4th floor of a grim tenement building. The color and warmth of the people within this building countered the depressing exterior of my building and its neighbors, but that wasn't my first visceral experience.

I had envisioned a "hills are alive" postcard view of  Georgia and what I had before me was something I imagined a city in Siberia to look like at the height of the Soviet regime, only hot.

To make this work, I had to find the beauty in my surroundings, and so began a series of The Building Behind Me. 

#30