That’s it, we are leaving tomorrow!
After hurricane Sandy, it is our turn to hit the East Coast.
First stop, New Jersey.
Everyone except me is excited and happy, counting the hours. I am worried and nervous. My stomach has become a nesting place of butterflies since three days now. I guess this is normal…
We have moved our stuff in the motor home. It was like moving into a new house. I was surprised how much space there is inside. We got our clothes and shoes, blankets and pillows, pots and pans, books and manuals, toys and tools, painting canvasses and paints, sunscreen and bathing suits.
Still, there are things we couldn’t take; things we will most probably miss a lot. My piano. Would be fun, though, if we could take the piano, drag it behind us on one of those little trailers people use to drag boats and cars with, or on the roof… I don’t know what I’m going to do with it when we sell the house and have to move on a boat… I don’t want to sell it…We’ll see. I guess it is harder than I thought to detach from certain objects.
Another thing is the washing machine. From now on we will have to wash our clothes by hand or at those public washing places that work with coins. But mostly by hand.
Also, we couldn’t take our bikes, because we don’t have adequate racks for them, so we’ll have to install racks at some point in the United States and buy couple of new bikes there. I’m sure they will be so much more practical for short distances once we are parked somewhere and we need to move around.
But most of all, we wish we could take our neighbors with us. How are we going to live in a new “home” with no neighbors? And ours are no ordinary neighbors. Take Brian and Joyce for example, who moved a few years ago from Saskatoon in the house opposite ours. These guys took charge of the motor home as soon as we bought it in September. We parked it in front of the house and went working the very next day, trucking across Canada. We came back three weeks later, and what do you know, Joyce had cleaned the old Pace Arrow inside and out to the point that I hardly recognized it. I mean, she had washed the windows, polished the walls and the floor; the couch had turned from suspiciously brownish to deliciously pink color. She had even put a new pale green curtain in the bathroom and the whole thing smelled like a spring garden, cleaner than our house. And Brian who has his own wood shop in the garage full of all kinds of instruments and can build you a kitchen “from scratch” had done all sorts of repairs: sanded the wooden cabinets, rebuilt the small table opposite the couch, made new shelves in the bedroom, installed little wooden molding under one of the windows discretely camouflaging some old water damage. He also lent tools to Ivo, helped him with numerous other repairs, and finally, when a week ago our car’s water pump suddenly died on us, he lent us his own car and drove us around day after day, to every place we needed to go.
Joyce, Brian, we are forever grateful to you;you have done so much for us.
Our hope is one day to be able to return your kindness.