I’m getting back on track in real time. The gap in posts behind me will be partly filled with a few things, as I catch up, but the hole is not the priority. New June is the priority.
In essence I fell asleep near Dallas and am only fully waking now as I unpack at the once and short-term future home.
We had a wonderful experience again in Hattiesburg, MS and it briefly made me think about establishing an Eastern base just for parking an RV near there, or maybe up in the Ozarks. I don’t think that will happen, mainly because it turns out that on average, the price of raw land here in the Southwest is just dramatically lower than anywhere else, and the crowds are that much smaller too.
The visits in Florida were brief and satisfying. Her fam is not too hard to be around. Mine are a tangled delight. And for once there was even a mingling, at a cultural crossroads called Manny’s.
Also, I got my second pedicure ever, and I’m thinking as I age that it might have to be a yearly expense.
On the way home I was again impressed by the Atchafalaya, and by the west Texas hill country, though I will of course always be just a visitor in those places.
This time I also became trivially learned in the ways of El Paso and I am very grateful for that opportunity. This is a cultural Mecca only 150ish miles from my dream land. I will return here to shop sometimes, and have the perfect breakfast at the place called 2Ten. It was satisfying enough that we didn’t even stop in Cruces this time, the one city that is still closer.
And finally, there was a bit of ruckus at the sweet open lot in the little dream town.
Originally there were four lots in a row on the street, for sale by the same guy. I bought the one on the end outright, and she’s well into paying off the one next to it.
I had hoped that someone I love might grab up the other two, but that didn’t happen. I think the one next to us is still for sale. But the uphill fourth lot did sell, and whoever bought it dragged in an old doublewide with the windows broken out of it–a serious eyesore at the moment, but nothing a nice tall fence can’t fix.
The main reason it was upsetting though turned into a cause for mild joy.
We had been led to believe, by a Planner/Zoner exec no longer with the city, that any kind of trailer was not an option. So upon seeing one, we tracked down the new exec’s boss and got some clarification–in fact, doublewides are allowed. You have to pull any wheels off it, and provide it with skirting, and so on. But this changes much.
It means that–provided I could find a decent deal on a pre-owned manufactured home, and didn’t have to pay to haul it far–I could just about afford right now to put up a living space, without the troubles involved in building one from scratch.
Listen. I don’t want to live in a trailer. But …
If it’s a question of being able to be down there sooner rather than later, living at last on my own little spread, a mile from the Co-op and less than that to the sublime coffeehouse, and all the other long-dreamt things … fuck yeah I’ll live in a trailer.
It doesn’t have to be forever.
There’s still the second lot to build upon as we would like to build someday. Plus, if the taste of modest success comes my way, the trailer can be hauled away and replaced with something more stylish and sustainable.
And it can all go down, maybe, before September ends.