Yep, you heard it right: we’ve got two weeks left on our yearlong journey. For anyone following along with our Field Notes and who didn’t already know that we are way, way behind on that effort, well…now you know. We’ll keep writing, even if we’re not moving.
As we near the end, it’s oh-so bittersweet. We’re thankful that we’ve had the chance to take this journey, and we are still continually surprised at how comfortable it is to live in Elsie. Just this week we maxed out our THOW to the fullest potential, showering in Elsie, cooking in Elsie, working in Elsie, reading in Elsie, watching internet TV in Elsie, and yes, even peeing in Elsie (see previous posts about us not using the bathroom p. much all year long).
Still, there are things we already know we’ll miss, and others, not so much.
Here’s things we’re ready to say so long to:
Doing dishes in the tiniest sink known to man
Seriously, it’s not fun. Try soaping and rinsing in this thing.
All of our clothes
I have nothing to wear because I want to burn every single thing in the tiny closet.
Our water hose, or any hose for that matter
Storing hoses so that they don’t kink and get stuck on everything in our back storage compartment is nearly impossible.
Running into each other
And furthering this point, having a physical door to close for a little personal space.
Hitting my head on the cabinets
I’ve got perma-bumps.
Sitting / Eating / Doing everything on the bed
We have no couch. One folding chair. And a bed. Those are our only sitting options. I’d kill for a Lazy Boy at this point.
Cabinet latches breaking
These stupid latches are always breaking. Christmas gift idea: Santa, give us 30 working latches, please.
Bungee’ing the refrigerator
Yep, this is a thing we have to do every time we travel so it doesn’t roll around when we drive. Add to this that we have to empty everything into a cooler, too. It’s enough to want to cry.
Taking all the pans out of the oven / Generally prepping the inside for travel
Again, one of those processes you must do at the risk of finding your toaster oven on the floor. Or coffee pot broken. Or stovetop grates on the ground.
Crawling over Carson (and Costello) to pee in the middle of the night
I have to sleep on the “inside” against the back end of the trailer. And I also pee more in the night than I ever thought.
And in Thanksgiving spirit, here’s the things we’re thankful for:
Quality family time
While working and living and being next to each other all the time can be a source of extra quabbles, it’s also one of the perks of the trip. We’ll miss all the moments created living in this thing together — forced or not.
Easy access to snuggin' with Costello
This might just be me, but I love my dog. I know, I’m already chastising myself.
Coffee always within reach
In 120-square-feet, you are never too far from the coffee maker.
Staying at state parks and national parks and Corps of Engineers parks has landed us with pretty stunning views.
All the wildlife
Can’t underestimate the power of seeing deer, doves and javelinas out your window.
Excuses to have beer
This lifestyle, with its quirks, time kills, labors of love and never ending barrage of things to fix and fetter with means you just earn your beer a lot quicker.
48 amazing states (Canada, you're not too bad either)
While our pocketbooks would argue we’re about 12 states over budget, we’re **obviously** thankful for all the travel. All the states (even you, Kansas). All the places we stopped along the way.
The question we get most often, especially as we near the end, is what we’ll do next. Our answer? You’ll be the first to know when we figure it all out. Today, we’re just living in the present. And making the most of the journey we have left. Here’s to you, Oklahoma, Arkansas and Missouri.