I’ve spent the last 10 days with friends who have been so accomodating. Cosmo and I had our own room with adjacent bathroom and a shower with so much water pressure, I never wanted to get out. It is always nice to visit friends. We left Berkely yesterday and moved back into the van. It’s about 1/4 the size of the bedroom we had just occupied, but it sure feels like home. We drove up the coast and stopped at Sunset State Beach, in Watsonville, CA. It is absolutely gorgeous. The campground is spacious and it’s just a brief walk up and over a dune to look down on the ocean. We’ll stay a couple days.
As much as I loved sleeping in a real bedroom, taking long, hot showers, and being wined and dined by my friends, last night when I parked and got the van leveled, I cooked up some frozen spinach and ricotta ravioli and an “Impossible Burger” and poured myself a glass of Malbec. Cosmo curled up on my lap as we sat in the tiny dining area at the back of the van with windows propped open, listening to the sound of the ocean. It was heaven.
It occurrred to me, that this truly is my home! You know when you go away? Even if you go someplace luxurious, someplace expensive, someplace that you’ve waited for years to be able to afford, somehow, when you return back to your own place, it feels so good to be home.
So I’m back to my van routines. I get up in the morning and turn on my percolator that I set up the night before, and in 7 minutes, my coffee is done brewing. I get a snack to go with my coffee (today I had home-made granola) and a treat for Cosmo and we climb back in bed. I check e-mail (when I have an internet connection) and read the NY TIme’s headlines. I do the NY Times mini crossword puzzle. Then we go for a walk and get breakfast. We did that this morning. We walked up to the ocean and felt the cool breeze, then came back and I made French Toast. The kitchen is tiny. The logistics of making French Toast in a kitchen that is 18 inches by 40 inches, including the sink and propane burners, takes some maneuvering, but that is part of the fun. I pulled up the table top supporting my bed cushions and rearranged them back into my dining room. I savored every last bite of the Frenh Toast, and Cosmo licked the plate.
We are in a bit of a valley, on this side of the dune, and the fog is drifting in. I can hear voices in a distant campsite, but can’t tell what they are saying. It just blends in with the ocean sounds. I’ll curl up and read my book inside the van for a little while, then probably go for another walk, then consider what’s for lunch. Life is easy. My friend Ginny says my life is “small.” Indeed it is, but in its diminutive-ness, it is still packed with all the things that make me feel like I’m home again.