Living Lightly in the New Year
Part One of Two Camp Cordray Early 2024 Updates
Happy New Year, everyone!
Let me go ahead and share the much belated happy New Year post that starts in the next paragraph since it has been parked a month and not flung as usual. The news that we would be heading to Memphis had us packing and stacking to fly across country at a tail-on-fire trot so the living lightly theme took an exit ramp and off we went. I am working on sharing THAT story at the moment so stay tuned. It’s a doozy, but a super positive doozy so don’t let this slightly dark underpinning story throw you. I assure you that it all turns out blissful in the end.
In glancing back at my last post, I am keenly aware of how long it has been since I have had my say of any sort. Landing back at our desert oasis in early October was more of a long, slow skid in the beginning with some unexpected drama and putrid bull droppings that only a small town can deliver, the less said about that the better. Quartzsite broke my heart, it seems. I have chosen to live and learn on some uphill areas of this country, always with my heart on my sleeve and my tail wagging to be helpful. Sometimes it flies, and sometimes it flies in my face. In either case, I am and will always be ME to the 10th degree, no matter where my feet are planted. Mark me as the stubborn, the un-budged, the yam what I yam Taurus rising light-filled Leo sun with the Aries moon quiver full of self-protective arrows and back away slowly. I can manage awhile in that mode, but it grinds horribly against my loving nature and dumps me into my cave. Winter is hard enough, thank you.
Another hefty and painful road bump was losing Dan’s beyond-amazing stepdaughter which left us both shattered. Losing Mandy-Bird is not something I can even speak to at this moment, although I have had my say on social media about that. That brings up a rather pointed point. I regret that so many of my deepest thoughts end up there instead of here or on some printed page. I yearn for the sound of resolutely tapping keyboard keys, not pinchy little phone fingers. I long for the creation of content not meant to go down that sullen skyway. Social media is a time suck. I am not immune to its pull, especially when I have lots of other tasks that need to be done. It has been a way to let people know where in the world we are and how we be. That’s great when we are rolling across the country and have much to share. In the times when we are stopped for a bit, it feels more like a diary because I have more time to think and tend to roll out more words than pictures. I have not done that much lately, not even the scrumptious food and nature pics that are the norm for me. The times when we aren’t traveling are just as busy, but quite often not as fun.
It is here that I will admit that it is hard to go “home”. There is a certain sadness to the end of an extended leg of nomadic rambling that lingers as we adjust to the fenced-in back yard for the innie-outie dogs, our rare desert shade tree, and the flocks of hummingbirds (and snowbirds) that this season brings. The full-sized fridge, the in-house shower, the bigger bed, all good things. We sure miss them when living in our rolling home. Peopling, for better and for worse, must be done during this stretch. It isn’t always our strong suit, but here in our little sandy burg we volunteer endlessly. We dump van and cargo trailer and reboot, preparing for the next leg. We rest, or we don’t. We live by alarm clock and calendar, which goes against our collective nature.
At some point we realize we are doing too much peopling and helping, although we promise ourselves every season that we will tuck in THIS season and do less. But we never stick to that plan. Another focus while in Quartzsite is maintaining our vintage 1979 park model trailer, our plan B stop and dock spot. It is not without its challenges to patch and spackle a petrified tin tipi that spends most of its time baking in triple digit temps. The cabinets delaminate, the floor tiles shrink and slide. The wood paneling audibly whines for moisture, which it eventually gets when the freezing winter nights force us to close the windows and run the propane heater. The yard and driveway flood when it rains and stay damp when the gray, sunless days outnumber the sunny ones. There are leaves to rake, plants to water, stuff to do. Endless stuff to do. We volunteer and teach and work and stay busy and place the restack and pack for the next journey and the aggravating household chores at the end of our time at home. Then the kitchen faucet breaks and the shelves in the cabinet underneath need to be rebuilt so household maintenance zips to the top of the list.
New Year’s Eve and Day found us sawing, hammering, painting, and making piles of appliances and pots and pans that will reduce when the paint dries and they are able to nestle back in their cabinet. I resign myself to the fact that until it is time to leave, there will be piles. Stuff coming in from van and trailer, stuff going out. Stuff we are working on here, and stuff we will take with us to work on or play with somewhere out there. Stuff that we said we wouldn’t accumulate because it took so much time and effort to get rid of the previous stuff. That’s how we bought our freedom in the first place. We took a smaller pile of stuff and hit the road, where we were given or bought more stuff. You get the picture.
I said all of that to say this: as my goal this year I will commit to continuing to pare down the unnecessary goods in all of our living spaces. It’s time to live lightly, to land here (and there) easily like a butterfly on a bloom. We are profoundly grateful for both of our wee little casas. I certainly don’t want to appear ungrateful as it has been our saving grace several times over the past 6 years that we have owned it. If you see less of us around town you will know where to find us. We will be here where the pups howl at all the new dogs and people in the park and the packin’ and stackin’ and streamlining is underway.
I plan to get back to sharing our stories in this spot and appreciate your patience in the interim. A blessed, peaceful, abundant, happy, and healthy NEW year to you and yours from us and ours! Pssst….whatever you want to do this year, just DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ITTTT!!
Bundles of blessings and loads of love,
Brenda Cordray
“The Desert Rose”
(P.S. If you are confused, read that first paragraph again. Yes, we are in Memphis and not Quartzsite. More to follow on that in my next post. Patience, Grasshopper. We are still settling in.)
