Sisterly Simplicity

From the moment I was born, my sister and I have been best buddies. Sure, we had your run-of-the-mill sibling disagreements growing up, and I was the quintessential annoying little sister, always tagging along and getting in the way; but those issues were minor. We never could stay mad at each other very long because we would get bored and want to be friends again in order to have someone to play with. Let's face it, throwing Barbies from the second story barn loft to pretend they are parachutists is way more fun with another person.

Shelby was the oldest, so she had all the 'firsts'---first driver's license, first kid to move away to college, first job, etc...I followed behind three years later for each milestone, happy my big sister had blazed the trail because that meant I could ask her a bunch of questions to be prepared; the motto of my life.

Our childhood is in the rear view mirror, fading further from sight with each year that passes. We live 628 miles away from each other. Yet the time and distance have not been able to change our bond. Somehow, someway, we still end up doing the same things, even when four states and a 10 hour drive separate us.
Shelby was the first to get a camper this year. I followed two months later.

Stemming from the new housing situation we both found ourselves in, Shelby thought it would be fun to create a special camper life series on my blog. For all my loyal readers--meaning Grandma, Mom, some friends from childhood and college, and the random people in foreign countries whom I do not know, but appreciate their interest in my writings, nonetheless--you will occasionally get to read about camper renovations, plumbing problems, wind storms, and life in 170 square feet of space.

Shelby writes from Kentucky where the winters are snowy and I-can't-feel-my-face cold , the summers are hot and mildly humid, and tornadoes come through every now and then. I write from Florida where winter doesn't exist unless you are a native Floridian who thinks 65 degrees is hypothermia-inducing, summers are bake-your-eyeballs hot and oppressively humid, and hurricanes make landfall each year.

This could get interesting.

We call it Sisterly Simplicity. 

Special guest post by Shelby--written on August 27, 2013

I just spent the last 4 weeks of my life packing, moving, storing, painting, transplanting, and Goodwilling all my earthly possessions. Changing your address is over-rated. Trying to decide what you can live without for the forseeable future is stressful. Praying the landlord gives you back your $500 deposit because you are nearly broke is ulcer-inducing. Realizing you packed up that specific item you need and it's at the back and bottom your storage unit, well, I guess I don't need it that bad.

Welcome to my world. The world of the single 28 year old female working 2 jobs and trying to get 100% financing to buy a small house in the country. The world of, I can't even find what I want, let alone afford it.  I am currently rooming with an awesome friend who puts up with my 2 dogs and allows me to rent month to month, no lease. And even after my dog chewed through the screen door, twice, she still puts up with me. I am blessed.

So, back to the house hunting....the whole moving process of course produces massive amounts of stuff for Goodwill. Sure, I like having xyz around, but do I like it enough to box it up and move it? Nah. Then there is all the stuff you put in storage, for $45 a month. My roommate already has a washer and dryer, a bookcase, dishes, etc. So into storage it goes. Since I plan on getting my own place soon, I will need it eventually. No point in giving it all away and then starting over in 6 months, right?

After 2 weeks in my new abode, I don't really miss much of that stuff that's in storage. I wish I had left some potholders out, but other that that, I'm getting along just fine. I could walk away from that storage unit and not miss a thing. So why do I even have it?

My roommate has a huge bathroom. The biggest I've ever lived with. Yay! Right? Not so much. A big bathroom just means more room to stumble around in while you search for your glasses after a shower. Things are no longer within arms reach. You actually have to walk around in there to find stuff. I've decided big bathrooms are over-rated for those of us who are half blind.

All of which leads me to my crazy, semi-hippie inspired but I still vote Republican, idea. While I love the idea of having my own home, with a big kitchen and room for all those dinners with friends and overnight visits from family, do I really want to make payments on that dream for the next 30 years? Twice, with interest rates! I've spent the past 6 months watching friends buy homes, and then try to pick up another job to pay for it all. I already work 2 jobs. I hate it. I'd like to build a life I can support with only 1. That's not going to happen with 1500 square feet of conventional American dream.

So I took a good look at the things I really do want, and looked for an alternative way to get them. I want space to grow a big garden, plant some fruit trees, raise chickens and perhaps a few goats. Basically, I'm a pioneer wannabe. Now I do draw the line at no indoor plumbing and a dirt floor. I'm not that organic. All of these endeavors require time and hard work. Two things that are in very short supply after a 60hr week working for 2 companies. I thought back to some of the happiest times in my life, and none of them involved a large living space. In fact, most of them involved very tiny spaces. The summer we lived in a 5th wheel camper after our house burned, my tiny garage apartment in college, the epic 2 week road trip with my sister where we lived out of a Toyota Yaris, KOA cabins, and a tent. I can't remember ever being happier, and I was living out of a suitcase. I have lived with 4 square feet of counter space, and not starved. How much kitchen do I need? I'm 5'2", so it's not like I take up much space when I sleep. How big a bedroom do I need? So big that I'm paying on it for 30 years? Missing trips with family because I have to work? Skipping that road trip with my sister because I can't afford it? Time for a radical re-evaluation!

I thought to myself, why not live in a travel trailer? It has a kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and a table to gather around with friends. I want to live a life that focuses on people and experiences, not drywall and asphalt. The only real concern I have with this plan is that people will think I'm crazy. But it's probably too late to worry about that anyway.  Now, I don't plan on living in a camper forever. I plan to pay off the land and the camper, then put those payments into savings and eventually build a conventional house. And just think, when I take that road trip with my sister, packing will be a cinch!

                "We are made of what we do, not the stuff we lay claim to." Buck Ramsey, Anthem 

Special guest post by Shelby--written on April 6, 2014

So here I sit in my 29ft Jayco Jay Feather in an RV campground in Kentucky. I finally did it. After months of tossing around this crazy idea, hours of internet drooling over Tumbleweed Tiny Houses, and far too much time and money wasted on rent, bad landlords, and crazy roommates, I took the plunge into home ownership. By the numbers, in the past nine months, I have had four different addresses, moved as many times, opened then closed one storage unit, only to open a second one four weeks later. Even my dogs have had two different "roommates". With the first move I gave away my couch. With the second move I cleaned out my storage unit of seven months, only to reopen a bigger one four weeks later. I spent two weeks in the basement bedroom at a friend's parent's house, for which I will forever be grateful. With the help of said friend's parents, who happened to be long-term camping experts, I purchased my new home. My church family helped me move my washer and dryer twice in one month. This weekend my incredible parents drove six hours to help me insulate the camper, clear out the last of my stuff from the "big house", haul a few family antiques home in a U-Haul, and give me much needed moral support in what has been a difficult few months. 

This Saturday I will haul my old bed, chairs, lamps, and whatever else won't fit in my new digs, to auction. It's amazing the things you own, but aren't in any way emotionally attached to. On the flip side, I teared up a little at the thought of giving up the kitchen table. It only went back to where it came from, my parent's house, and it will be there when I have room for it again. It was one of the first things my parents bought after our house burned down in 1991. So many fond memories are centered around that table; cookies decorated, craft projects conquered, school work, and every holiday meal from the ages of seven to 22. When I was in high school my mom grew tired of the table and wanted to get rid of it.  I begged her to keep in until I grew up and had a place of my own, which she did. Little did either of us know, seven years later it would be back, like a stray cat. Hazel left her mark on the corner of one of the leaves four houses ago. Moving stresses her out and expensive items tend to pay the price. Just ask me about the screen door two roommates ago. Think Terrier Chainsaw Massacre.

I frequently feel like I am drowning in a sea of stuff to do, two jobs, overtime, boxes, and change of address forms, but like my dad says, "You eat an elephant one bite at a time." This has just been a rather large elephant. At some point in the near future, I will be settled in and have my friends over for hotdogs and smores. My campsite has a picnic table and a fire pit! I already have a citronella candle, despite the fact that we are 40 degrees below mosquito weather on this second day of spring. Hope springs eternal. Unfortunately I don't think any of my iris bulbs will, but I'm choosing to look at their demise as the chance to try some new colors. Since I will be gardening in pots, perhaps the moles won't eat my tulips. This was always a problem with conventional gardening. I have gone from a shed, complete with push mower, rakes, shovels, buckets, and pruning shears, to half a dozen pots and hand tools. Perhaps I will add a hummingbird feeder out the rear window this summer.

My tax write-off for charitable donations to Goodwill will be huge next year. Three moves, and I am still getting rid of stuff. Closet space is limited, so I no longer feel compelled to hang on to that top I only wore twice, but felt guilty about getting rid of, it was such a good deal.

My dogs have joined the ranks of "town dogs" and I bought a little doggy bag holder for Hazel's new pink leash. I must say, I'd rather clean 20 stalls than scoop poop for two dogs. Why must they go at the furthest point from a trash dumpster, forcing you to juggle two tangled leashes and multiple loaded baggies for the next 300 yards? My mom bought them a nice little movable pen so they can spend more time outdoors, but they refuse to "go" in their living space. I keep telling them they are taking the house broken thing a bit too far.

So we shall see what this new adventure has in store for me. I'm finding it's truly not about where you are, but who you are with. Over the years I have been blessed with some awesome roommates, but I am enjoying having my own space to come home to. Moving into a camper at the tail end of the worst winter in memory presents a steep learning curve, but as the car insurance commercial says, "I got people." You know who you are.