Dreaming of Sumsumsummertime in Memphis: The Cordrays Stick for Another Season

Welcome, friends, both recent and longstanding! I appreciate each of you, and I am grateful for the recent uptick in followers. Thanks for hopping in the sidesaddle, and away we go!

Here is the big news that I alluded to in my last post, a tribute to our previous road life vehicle, Erik Van Home. On February 3rd, Camp Cordray celebrated one year in Memphis. Dan and I feel so blessed to have had this opportunity to settle in a while to work toward a stronger foundation. While we have surpassed our goal of upgrading our chariot and stacking up gas money to scurry on out of here, it seems that Mr. Cordray is needed for one more round.

Dan is the kind of man who loves to see a job completed. He has been at the helm or has been helpful for many projects that have been successfully brought to a close, but there are others he would like to see done and dusted, or at least as close as possible.

As seems to be the pattern in these negotiations, we didn't know until the 11th hour whether it was stay or go time. With the need to clear out the van to donate it comes the task of also dumping the cargo trailer, because we can't pull two. It has been the ham radio shack, the pantry, my art studio and writing desk, Dan's tinker table, the hanging clothes closet, a second place to hang out, and storage for camping gear and everything that didn't fit in the van. I can tell you that most of it is in our diningroom right now. Actually, it looks like a tornado hit a yard sale in pretty much every square inch of our Bluff City abode. There will be no photographs provided of that fiasco. Here is a view of our walking path view along the Mississippi River instead.

Even though the current contract will not end until the beginning of August, we must once again do the deed that every nomadic person does countless times as they evolve. It's time to whittle it down. The pack and stack of we must roll will slow, but the sifting and deciding must continue. Use it up, condense it, give it away, or make sure it has multiple uses before deeming any item pack-worthy. With actual square footage for storage greatly shrinking, less is more is part of this rotation. We know what we have to do, but we are also grateful for another season of hummingbirds, the chance to float in the pool and stroll along the river and to continue to immerse ourselves in the culture of Memphis, especially the historical, artsy, and foodie bits. What a place it has been for all three! We will be able to really speak about Memphis in years to come.

Time has both flown by and dragged in equal measure here in Memphis. We cherish our time together when Dan isn't working and more than anything, look forward to more of that when it's time to roll. In the meantime, I am working on submissions for a local art exhibition. It remains to be seen whether my works will be chosen, but I am enjoying the process. Here is one that will be sent off with a few others for consideration. The prompt was to create art with text included, preferably hand-lettered text.

I am also doing research for a couple of writing contests and taking a fresh look at what I have already written for the book(s) about the first decade of my (our) nomadic journey. It wants to be multiple volumes, but it is difficult to see how to divide it up. I have been doing more writing about Memphis life than working on the entirety of the book in this little section of time. With this extension, it's time to finish up the little creative projects and boot camp the book. The smaller projects have swift deadlines approaching, so I will tend to those and then shake the rug and put in more hours towards the larger road tales series.

I have seen three v's of geese flying north this week. We have snow in the forecast mid-week next week. Fat robins dot barely budding tree branches all around the apartment complex. It was 71 degrees and sunny today, but winter is planning for the wrap-around. I won't pack up the woolens just yet.

I will, however, continue to get my 15 minutes of sunshine daily, even when it's below freezing out on the patio. My innards are made of sunshine. I simply cannot do without it.

I long for the extended solar reboot that summertime brings. I can imagine most of us are ready for winter to be over. We can check off the list living for four seasons in a four season kind of locale. It has been a long time since either of us have experienced that. My sincerest wish is to not see one more snowflake, but snowflakes bring the flowers of springtime, just like rain does. For the moment, we will gratefully bloom where we have been planted.

In the meantime, allow me to fling my own sunshine art your way, as it is the cover shot of this post. Once upon a time, in a dusty and dry land far, far away, I taught a few souls how to draw their own sunshine at one of my local Camel Town Create-Space Dabble-In-Art classes.

Anyway, one sunny day has turned into a windy and cold wee morning, so I better send this paper airplane update out into the wind before the evil alarm clock woman hollers wake up, Sunshine, it's time to go to work. Dan's work phone, not my phone alarm. I will not miss that cruel taskmistress when this gig is over.

I really wanted to say thank you to those who bother to follow the link for my posts through Facebook, and also to those who have subscribed to this newsletter'/blog. Facebook has seen less and less of me and I am sure that trend will continue. I still have much to say, much to share, but my heart is not there right now. It's not the same gathering spot it once was. I created a Blue Sky account which is just my name. If Facebook flips upside down you can find me here, there, or on Telegram.

Chase my words here, please. You will always see more pictures here than in my Facebook posts. Also please know that although it takes me days to respond to comments, I love and appreciate all of them. It's like giving birth sometimes to get a post out and I end up running out of words or willing fingers to type them with.

My soul is in the passenger seat and my hair is flying out the window. The radio is playing a Kenny Rogers tune and Dan is singing along. The pups are settled in and we are off to find our camping spot before the sun sets. It's a little further off in the distance at the moment, in this moment in time. It is a scene played out over and over on many highways, many backroads, from one coast to the other and back again. The idea of doing just that keeps us moving forward, making the donuts, doing the deal until we can fly free. Given everything, we are exactly where we need to be.

Sunny days and Popsicles,

Brenda Cordray

The Desert Rose