Monday, April 18, 2016

Life Happens While Making Plans

"Man plans; God laughs" -- ancient Hebrew proverb

Recent events around our New Mexican mud hut have reinforced for us the futility of trying to plan what happens next (we knew better, but the temptation always crops up), and we are stepping back and regrouping. You can't push on the universe, but you can declare your intentions and then let things happen. Of course, adapting to whatever variations are introduced in the process is your own lookout.

That's where we are now. The house is off the market and we've put some things in motion to see about getting the house to a point where the mortgage companies will love it again. Who would have known they won't loan money on a house because it doesn't have central heating? And guess what? To get a loan to do the things that will make it marketable, you have to have a marketable house?

Where is Joe Heller when you need him?

All this means any thoughts of hopping in the van and moving south or buying a boat are on hold for the time being. But that might not be a bad thing. Captain Len's First Church of Sailing With the Wind teaches about the right working of things, and sometimes it's important to see if maybe the obstacles placed in your path serve a purpose beyond raising your blood pressure. So we talk and think about what we should be doing, rather than what we thought we wanted to do. It bears re-examination.

In the shorter term, this summer, to be precise, we will take a van camping trip to the great NW and visit Dagny's kids (and grandkids) and my mother--Bonnie will be 95 that month and probably planning to climb Everest or somesuch, so I want to swing by and see what's going on. Her health is amazing, considering the mileage she's put on, but not so hot at the moment. Seeing as the future insists on not revealing itself to me, we want to get by and say hello and catch up.

Of course, visiting my mother isn't quite like it is for most people--she's a moving target. Yesterday we learned she is planning on moving again in a month, so we might have to work to catch her in the first place. We will put out some Mom traps and see what we get.

Then we will head back home.

To preserve my sanity I've got other trips on the to do list, including a road trip with my old friend (it's the friendship that's old, not us) Javaid Qazi. He has family business in Indiana, so I'll ride shotgun. And then... well, now that gets uncomfortably close to planning again, and we know the dangers that holds--here there be dragons..

Monday, March 28, 2016


Our plan to sell our house and to see a boat we liked very much down in Panama hit a little snag. That being that we don't seem to be selling the house. We had some people take a very serious look at our ancient adobe and decide it wasn't right for them. They looked long and hard. The house has some sort of magic about it that makes a certain kind of person fall in love with it, and it's rather inexpensive as houses go in this day and age, but it also needs some work.

For years now, we've invested heavily in our art making. It's been our priority since, oh since forever. That means using whatever spare money we could generate on art supplies or trying to sell art. So we haven't done much with the house other that remove a few non load bearing walls to create space for Dagny to work. As a result, there is a fair amount of comestic work that needs doing. This is an obstacle for anyone wanting a house they can move into and just unpack. It's also one reason the house is priced below market.

So, we accept that it isn't pristine, and that frustrates immediate sales. And we have little patience for waiting for that perfect buyer to show up on our doorstep. So what do you do?
In our case, we regroup, rethink. Maybe even take a moment to listen to what the universe is telling us. A wise person doesn't push against the universe. It isn't healthy or fun. If the message is that it isn't the moment to go sailing, well okay. What then?

Well, seeing as plan A failed, we move to plan C (plan B is always "jump over the side" but in New Mexico it's not as functional as it was when we formed it during our boating days.). And what is plan C? We fix up the house. If we had money, that would be simple. But in our case, it means taking the house off the market, get a home equity loan of some sort, use part ot pay off the van and the rest to get the work done.

Then we... well, we aren't sure what happens next. The future is a fuzzy place. Maybe we rent it out and join the carnival... Well, probably not a carnival, but its all part of some circus. Anyway, we do something. Something fun and interesting. Maybe we put it back on the market. Hell, we don't even know how long it will take to do the things we need/want to do.

But that's okay. Not knowing is a good thing. After all, it's all just part of an adventure. Like the rest of life--you have to make it up as you go along.

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Van improvements

In the last post I talked about some improvements Dagny has made in the interior of the van, some functional and some aesthetic. She redid most of the cabinetry and now it looks like this.

To the immediate right is the stove/oven that comes out easily. When we camp for longer periods we have a pop up tent that serves as additional living space and a shelving set that goes together to make a kitchen. Even when it's hot we can cook in the tent and even make homemade dog treats for Carl Roberts (the world's greatest Giant Lap Schnauzer).

The top shelf of the green boxes holds a battery operated LED lantern in place.

Here is a wider view so you can see there is standing space. Further back are the high-tech fridge (just add ice) and a porta potty. On the close end of the bunks, just off camera to the left, is a cool medicine chest that is just inside the sliding door. It holds toothbrushes, first aid stuff, comb and brush, and important dog things. (Goes without saying)

Next week we'll get to see how efficient this all is.

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Road Trips

While waiting for the house to sell, I've kept busy with writing and also with road trips. Some old friends from Portland Oregon needed help moving to New Mexico and when I volunteered to help, they flew me up so I could drive one of the UHaul trucks down for them.

Flights of fancy

When you live in Silver City, going to the airport means driving to Tucson or El Paso. It's a tossup, but the weather was getting nice so the day before my flight, Dagny and I went to Tucson, and we camped that night at Colossal Caves. It was great and in the morning, as we sat in our chairs eating breakfast, we got a visit from several cardinals--two males and a female. We'd never seen cardinals in the wild before and they were gorgeous. They knew it too, and they posed in the trees and came within a few feet to give us a good look.

Being able to camp out on February 9th is one of the attractions of the Southwest.

On the road again

Portland has grown a lot since the last time I was there. I was actually going to Gresham, and it felt like Gresham was bigger than the Portland I remembered.

We finished loading and two days later, headed out in a convoy of three trucks and a car. As road trips go, this isn't the ideal strategy, partly because the nature of the vehicles and the weather dictated that we get on major freeways, point our noses south, and just drive to LA, turn left (harder than it sounds) onto I-10 and drive to Lordsburg, NM, where you head back up into the mountains. On the other hand, the roads were predictable, except that I-5 and parts of I-10 were in terrible shape. We were bounced around. I've seen better roads in Cambodia. It was hard to believe that a place that is so dependent on cars doesn't make the roads a priority. Arizona does much better.

But we did it. We and the stuff survived, so we called it a success.

Preparation for getting underway

 Now we are home, but Dagny and I are making a trip to Phoenix early next month. She's been modifying the van, tweaking it to be better suited for our on-the-road lifestyle, and we'll camp at Lake Roosevelt for a couple of nights (coming and going to Phoenix) and see how well it all works and give her ideas for more mods.

We've camped at Lake Roosevelt before and it's a lovely place.

We are evolving toward heading out the door, not waiting for the house to sell in that respect. Already we've gotten rid of stuff, and even at home, we are starting to winnow down our cooking utensils to the things we can fit in the van.

Fitting things into the van and still being able to cook, sleep, work... It's a challenge.

I've pretty much worked out my idea of a minimal office. I'll upgrade my computer before we hit the road, but ditch a lot of the "clever" gadgets that I thought might make things easier and me more productive. As it turns out, I'm better off taking a step backward, getting back to just writing on paper and then using a computer as a typewriter for a second draft. There's a lot involved in that decision, but what it comes down to is that I need to focus on the writing and not the tools. I love working in Scrivener, and I love my Mac Book Pro, but anything else is window dressing that will require maintenance. I'll get a newer Mac Book Pro because they don't have hard disks, and living on the road is hard on mechanical things. When we get a boat, salt water is always an issue. I went through a lot of computers the last time we lived on a boat and the most common failure was the hard drive.

So onward and upward.

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Control What You Can

When I get involved in a project, whether its moving, or writing a book, or learning something new, the only part that is hard for me is waiting. Things might be difficult or frustrating, but if they are within my control, persisting, pushing ahead, feels good.

But waiting? Sitting around until someone else makes a decisions, accomplishes a task... not so easy.

Selling the house involves a lot of waiting, and I can't control most of that. And I can't do anything about moving until I know when the house will sell.

But there are things I can do. I can write stories, update this blog, and work on short-term projects that lay the groundwork for the next steps, and make them easier. Those things I can do, and they are important.

Every moment of an adventure doesn't feel adventurous. I just have to remind myself of that.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Maintaining Communications

The other day we called the people in Panama who are selling a boat we are very interested in. Very. We can't make a move until the house sells, and although there are people interested in our house, they have a series of decisions to make and things to do before that can be real, if it is. So although they are very interested in our house, they can't promise anything.

I makes a frustrating, but understandable cycle. And being poised to jump without any idea whatsoever about when we can jump, takes a toll.

So we come up with ideas. If the house were to sell, and the boat was still available, I'd fly to Panama, meet the owners and see the boat. I'd meet with lawyers there to talk about a resident visa (pensionado), which I'm already working on collecting the documents for.

It's a jigsaw puzzle without any border pieces.

For the time being about all we can do is maintain communications, both with the people with the boat, with the people interested in the house. Keep communicating and make preparations.

Unfortunately, that too is part of the adventure, just as surely as logistics are part of an expedition. Not all components of adventure are thrilling. Sometimes the effort is to stay steady as she goes and wait for the horizon to appear.

The boat we are interested in isn't a catamaran, but I'm in the mood for a picture of a boat and I happened to have this one handy.

Friday, January 29, 2016

One Step at a Time

January was a chaotic month... two days after listing our 100-year old adobe house for sale we got an offer. That meant we had one month to sell off everything that wouldn't fit in the van. Two days later the buyers backed out.

Chihuahua Hill, Silver City, NM

While that made for quite an emotional roller coaster, the truth is that we were actually relieved. The quick sale caught us off guard. Moving into our van in January wasn't going to be fun either and getting together the paperwork for going to Panama (the dog's health certificate, the van title, the FBI background check, a certified copy of our marriage license--from Hong Kong...) needed some time.

So we let out the sigh of relief, set about collecting the documents (it's a straightforward process getting documents from Hong Kong, but not simple to do long distance), fixing some things that the inspector for the people who had intended to buy the house found and looking at boats. (We are somewhat enamored of a UNION 36 for sale in Panama. If it's there when we sell the house we will definitely take a look.)

And dreaming of the sea, of course.

So the house is back on the market--for a mere $120,000 if you care. You can see it at

We are letting the universe guide the adventure. All of the adventures. The adventure of selling the house, the adventure of traveling around in our van (up to the Seattle area to see my Mom and other family, then to Panama), and then the adventure of seeing what Panama holds in store for us.