“Without a penny in my pocket, No place that I call home I live my life on the road, And where I go I just don’t know But I flow magnetically through the Universe And I wait patiently for what may follow.”
~Jodie Pate
Click here for a soundtrack for a Sunday Morning
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KRMtiU1Zhys
Sunday night, I had a restless night, with strange dreams. I wouldn’t exactly call them nightmares, even though most of what I could remember were dreams about loss. In one, I lost my work boot. (Not sure where that came from as I don’t own any “work boots.”) In another I lost my phone while trying to buy movie tickets at a huge airport/shopping mall/movie emporium. (I’m sure that conglomeration of large commercial spaces represents my growing fear of “the empire.”) Shortly after I lost my phone, I realized I had lost Cosmo too in the gigantic building that stretched for miles in all directions. I recently got him a new I.D. tag with his name and my phone number on it, but realized in my dream that if they called, my phone was just as lost as Cosmo. Somehow, all of this didn’t have the usual panic of a nightmare. Even in my dream state I remained calm, knowing that this all would work out, I’d find my way back to the movie ticket-purchasing kiosk, and retrieve my phone and Cosmo. {Any of you into dream analysis, feel free to pass on your interpretations. Sorry. No cigars in my dreams last night.}
When I woke up, I realized that I often have unsettling dreams on nights before I move to a new spot, or when I have to go into a town. Monday I had to go into Cordes Lake (barely a town) to get propane, water and food. Thinking about going is always worse than the actual excursion. I allowed myself to sleep in until 7:00, and forced myself to get into “normal mode” instead of trying to rush to get packed up for the drive. In some ways, going into town, when I know I’m coming back, is worse than moving to a new spot. I have to pull in my plants, my solar panels, solar lights. I need to put away my coffee pot and anything on the kitchen counter (I often spread out when I’m sedentary for a week or more), close up all my windows, lock down my cupboards, etc. It feels like a chore when I’m moving. It feels even more of a nuisance knowing I’ll be returning to unpack everything in the exact same place in an hour or so.
I drank my coffee and played my NY Times’ puzzles. I went outside and did my morning exercise routine. After that I packed up and made the short (20 minute) drive into Lake Cordes. My first stop was Pilot Truck stop for water and propane. I recognized the place from last year when they said their propane machine was broken (quite a common problem in AZ apparently). Before getting my hose out for water, I tried the spigot. A couple drops came out and then it went dry as a bone. I went inside to inquire about propane and was told that it broke and they hadn’t fixed it yet (over a year now). I asked about water and she said “The pipe broke and they made us disconnect it.” I’m not sure what that meant exactly, but was sure it meant no propane and no water. The clerk was quite friendly and polite and when I asked where I could get propane and water, she said that Love’s had both, but the RV park just next door also had both and might be easier. They did and it was. A very nice man put down his breakfast burrito to fill my propane for me and directed me to which store in town he thought might have the most produce. He told me there were two different dollar stores on the way and I should pick up anything I could at one of them because the grocery stores in town were a rip off. I asked where he got groceries, and he told me he drove to Prescott (almost an hour away) to go to Walmart. I filled my water tank, paid for the propane and headed to both dollar stores where I got beans and rice, bread, milk, pasta and a few snacks. I drove down to the Cordes Market where I splurged on tortillas ($3.99 for 10) an apple ($1.99), an orange (a bargain at 50 cents) and a wrinkly yellow bell pepper for $1.50. I rationalized the $1.99 cucumber and $3.99 mushrooms by thinking of how much gas would cost to drive to Prescott and back. In the end, I got about 1/3 of what I normally get, and it cost the same as when I do a full grocery run at Walmart. I truly understand the harsh reality of living in a “food desert.”
I got back, pulled into my same beautiful spot. From the hill on the way in, it looked bigger than it did from the ground and seemed an oasis off to the side of a pretty nasty dirt road. I got unpacked, set up and made myself a bean/rice/cheese burrito with homemade salsa I blended from some slightly shriveled cherry tomatoes that were past their prime and a half a jalapeno. It was delicious. When I sat down to eat, the burden of my once-every-ten-day chore had lifted and I exhaled any residual anxiety I had left over from dreams and fear of the empire.
The week was hot. It was in the upper 90’s most days, making it unpleasant, but tolerable. When it got too hot, I took Cosmo outside and we both got a cold shower. There was some air movement, so being wet helped cool us down.
The nights were slightly cooler and before going to bed at night, I took advantage of the waning moon and its late rise to get some final shots of the Milky Way. Orion is in the sky when I look out my window in the wee hours, so I know the winter sky is rapidly coming our way and that means good-bye to the Milky Way until spring. I got some final shots.
On Friday morning an off-road vehicle (think gas powered golf cart) pulled into our site and an older woman (yep, even older than I am) got off. I expected she was going to say we’d overstayed our 14-day limit, or that we were on her land and we had to move. Instead, she said, “Just checking in to make sure you’re OK. I’ve seen signs of movement each day when I pass by, but with this heat, wanted to make sure you were OK and had enough water. We had a nice chat. Her name is Patsy, and she owns the adjacent ranch. My faith in humanity was restored that she felt neighborly enough to make sure I was OK.
I checked in with Barbara and Lark during the week, and by Friday, Cosmo and I had had enough and decided to head back to their driveway on Saturday morning to avoid the 100⁰+ weather over the weekend. On Saturday morning we packed up and battened down everything that could fly around the van as we drove north. It was stifling when we woke up before 7:00 a.m. That didn’t bode well for the afternoon which was predicted to be 102⁰. Prescott Valley, here we come. The weather there should be a balmy 95⁰.
Lessons From The Road: I have to admit that my life is pretty close to perfect. And yet I dread moving days or having to go into town to get propane, gas, water, and food and to dump trash. I wonder if humans have a “reset switch.” When I worked every day, and ran a company with 7 employees, and had two mortgages, I truly DID have things to worry about, and those things were constant. Now, about once every 10 days I have to go on a run to (or through) the empire to stock up or move to the next spot. Somehow I feel I have “reset” my level of tolerance to a much lower threshold and let two hours of “empire” cause me such stress. In reality, the hours leading up to the trip are the stressful ones; once I’m actually in the empire, I can usually get to my tasks quite efficiently. And yet when I get “home” I let out a sigh, and feel like the weight of the world has been lifted. I wonder if that’s just me or if humans in general have some need for stress, real or invented. If my life is 99% perfect, how can I let a two hour period about 3 times a month get to me? Feel free to reply if any of you have similar experiences.
And of course, I’ve RE-learned that Arizona seasons are not the same as the seasons I grew up with. On the cusp of October, it is still 104⁰ north of Phoenix where I was staying. I thought I’d be in Quartzsite now that it is fall. Quartzsite is 108⁰ today. Looking back at last year’s calendar, I realized that I cannot plan on being in Southern Arizona (Quartzsite or Ehrenberg) until late October at the earliest. I jumped the gun this year, went south, and had to get rescued by my friends in Prescott Valley who let me come back to their driveway until it is safe to go back to Cordes Lake where I’ve been for the past two weeks.