Prepping For The Long Haul

On the edge of sleep last night, a short distance from the camper, a large canine barked and howled. It wasn’t the yip and yammer of a coyote calling out to the pack. Yet, it wasn’t the standard dog bark either.

Willie James, fast asleep on my chest and belly, raised his head, barely cracked open his eyes and went right back to sleep. I dialed my mother’s house phone and made sure her five dogs where inside. I assumed they were since they, the Barker Pack, wasn’t barking. On the off chance they were outside, I felt a responsibility to make sure they were safe (even though their incessant barking drives me batshit crazy). Whatever it was outside, we both agreed we’d clean up the “messes” in the morning versus learn which type of canine was lurking in the dark steps away from her home when either of us let the dogs out for that one last potty before bed. Lord knows I didn’t want to meet the Dogman; after all the second movie was filmed a couples houses up the road!!

Other than getting the oil changed in the truck, it’s ready for the highway. The carpet has been vacuumed, windows wiped down, plastic floor coverings washed, recycling dropped off, bottle deposits cashed in and the big bottle of bubble mix and the three wands dropped off to my son and daughter-in-family’s house. I suppose I could have brought the bubbles with me on this adventure; my inner child could have had fun. I’d looked silly at my campsite, but, yeah, I’m putting to rest worrying what others think of me.

Inside the camper, I have gone through all the storage bins and stacked what I’m not taking on the table, other chair, kitchen counter and floor.  My house is littered with clutter and for some reason I’m slow at prepping my home for the road.

There’s a sense I won’t be coming back next summer like I did this year. In my happy, I-can-manifest-whatever-the-hell-I-want world, I would love to spend May through September in Michigan with my grandsons and then head back home in the south west before October.

That rolled off my fingertips way too easy. I suppose I’ve known since before I sold the house a year ago that I’d be changing my residency from a Michigander to another state. The question remains – which state.

I’m getting better at living in the moment and not making plans too far out in advance. Traveling by intuition is my motto, you know. It’ll be interesting to see where and what I’m doing next spring. Who knows, maybe I’ll have a place of my own so the family can visit me for a couple of weeks. The possibilities are endless. My focus right now is to finish prepping the camper for the long haul and reconfigure the Pen To Paper Writers Circle website and programs I offer.

Fifteen minutes before noon on Monday, I parked the truck at the Elberta Bluffs overlooking the Frankfort piers extending into Lake Michigan and waited for Eddie Mullins‘ call. He mentioned in a note that he would be calling from an Arizona canyon. Water to desert, desert to water, I thought. That phone call was powerful, and shed a lot of light on my resistances to success and follow-through, releasing the past and healing my connection with Self. Yesterday, when I looked at my PTPWC website, I saw how I unknowingly sabotaged myself and prevented any chance of enticing new members to join.

Each time I felt fear and unworthiness creep into my monkey-mind, I took Willie James outside for some fresh air. Doc said the rabies shot might make him feverish due to his small size. It did. My sassy, peppy pup looked at me with eyes begging to go back to bed.

Anyways, that’s enough babble about my entrepreneurial hoopla. It does feel good to be productive and moving forward. And, best of all I’m working on a book that I started years ago. The only hint I will drop is that on this side of a child’s death, I can truly write the storyline from experience.

Willie James still continues to attract attention and exclamations of “Oh! Look at the puppeeeee!” from people of all ages. The hard part now is that when I’m holding a conversation with a person and someone else approaches to pet Willie James. It’s hard not to be rude by ignoring the person who unknowingly interrupted an important dialog. Although, if that’s my only bitch about life right now, I’d say my life is good.

Captured moments along the way…