At what point do you just stop caring? When preparing for meraki journey, I researched all about living fulltime. Across the board, one thing was common (well, a lot really), and it was: be prepared to always be fixing something.
They weren’t kidding. Mer is my baby. She has to be, because she houses us, feeds us, moves us and without her, none of this would happen.
I vowed to take good care of her. I renovated Mer so she could be home and doing that, I’ve turned out to be a woman who can build things. Fix things. Heck, I was a DIY rv lady.
Today, I discovered a potentially damaging and costly problem.
I stared at it. Prodded and poked at it. Shrugged my shoulders and said, fuck it. I went back to my chair in front of the fire pit and watched the slow descent of the sunset, also known as the magic hour.
It has been very cold the past few days. A historical-never-happened type of cold. I swear, I’ve experienced every global warming shit that has been thrown in our path since we started. I couldn’t sleep all night last night because I worried that my not emptying the heater tank caused monetary damages. I woke up so early, stressed out.
I yanked my boys out of the hotel room, for two reasons: I couldn’t’ wait to get out of there because it made me miss my brick house way too much, and I was wrought with visions of Meraki’s floors covered with frozen puddles.
It was the longest 6.7 miles of driving (from the hotel to mer). When we arrived, everything looked great, the only damage I saw was an easily replaced filter hooked to outside’s pump. Otherwise, we survived with zero damages.
Until I got some logs from the back storage of Mer for the firepit. I noticed a hole and a wide gap that was NOT something to ignore. I stared. I felt the wall of the area, it was damp and soft and oh so very moldy. What the fuck?
It is something that HAS to be fixed. Something hazardous if not heeded. Right now, after worrying all night and dealing with the cold, I am past the point of caring. I’m just going to sit here, with our firepit and watch the sunset.
They were not kidding, repairs on a daily basis. Always something. Well, as I look at the flames licking on wood, I am reminded that shit does happen, but it is how we react that tells of our character. So, my reaction?
Sit. Enjoy the fire, sip my beer and smile. I know everything will be okay.
Cheers to not caring at the moment, because otherwise, I'd lose my shit and nobody wants that.
just a mother who fled from society's constraints and is super excited to wake up to the outdoors, remain braless daily and teach her boys the art of boredom and discovery.