Oh the thrills of owning a little old motorhome. My Wheel Estate. My pride and joy. My home, my study, my office, my life.
Harley's rolling dog house...
Because it is old, I am always trying to scrape up funds to set aside for future repairs or maintenance. Sometimes I know in advance what needs to be done, other times it could slap me in my silly face with an emergency. I figure if I slave away trying to maintain all I can with my own two little hands, that I am gaining ground translating into less emergencies.
Ha ha ha! Might as well believe in Fairy Tales! (I do... I do... I tell myself I do.)
Right when I think I have some breathing room to tackle something that has been on the repair list a very long time, some emergency pops up next. Typically right after I have spent my funds on a non-emergency "repair A" then emergency "repair B" arrives on the scene with zero notice. Like "Ha ha! Now now that you spent your money fixing that, you should have fixed this!"
Where's a crystal ball when you need one?
I wrote the Virgin Island weather reports for umpteen years with a crystal ball that rarely ever failed me. Bored with the weather, I threw in island tales and answered questions from readers. This is how I became "Dear Miss Mermaid".
Maybe I should have held onto that there crystal ball for predicting the whims of my wheel estate. But I was selling off all my belongings in anticipation of coming to America. Since I wouldn't be writing weather in America, I figured I wouldn't need the crystal ball anymore.
Live and learn.
Like I just discovered the forward window above the cab area, where the guest lost oops guest loft is located must have sprung a leak. My new curtains I sewed up last December have faint water stains on them. That window has been re-caulked twice in the last year by others and probably 5-6-7 times in the 2.5 years of ownership.
Sigh. Big sigh.
Either their work is very poor or like another Rv-er explained, that window which is above the windshield, does get some heavy abuse running down the highway. That made me feel miles better. It makes sense. I must work on plan B or C or D and get that repaired pronto. I am thinking outside the box, like maybe a slight renovation would improve the situation immensely. Unfortunately, it's one of those jobs I need help with. I can't reach the window on my own. I'm lousy at vertical caulking.
I have become much more steady on my legs, I'm not near as terrified of ladders as I used to be. Obviously my knees and legs are getting stronger. My good luck cane has indeed brought me good luck. I recently loaned it to a friend who needed a four-legged cane to aid in their walking. I explained it was my good luck cane and once it brought them good luck, well um, I needed it back again. It's not a general purpose good luck cane, it's a good luck cane that as long as I travel with it, my legs will get stronger and steadier and I'll never need to walk with it again.
Years back I gave away my good luck cane. It was a huge mistake. Months later, I found myself unable to walk at all due to multiple breaks in the other leg, that was followed by a year of physical therapy (which is a very cute name for paying someone for sheer torture and pain in the belief that good will come out of all that evil.)
Three days later my friend said "Indeed that is a good-luck cane, I am walking fine now! Here's your good-luck cane back again."
I have this never ending list of wishful repairs and maintenance to my wheel estate. While workamping, I feel like I should be stockpiling my pennies to take care of repairs.
Right when I was feeling overwhelmed, my new camping neighbor made me feel immensely better. He arrived in a Class C much smaller but much newer than mine, along with a spouse, kids, puppy and assorted accouterments. I've come to find out he has in-laws, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins camping around here too on other lots. How lovely. He had 5 bicycles in assorted sizes from toddler to tall adult, strapped to the rear of his RV, looking like an itinerant bicycle shop.
I burst out laughing when he walked around back, counting the bikes and announcing "Wow, didn't lose a single one!"
We were chatting while i was working outdoors and he was setting up camp. He had chased off his kids and wife to go have fun while he did the set-up work. They are vacationing, not fulltiming in their Class C.
At some point he talked about wanting to trade in his RV, but his payments on the one he had now was $600 a month and going on "forever" and he didn't see where he could get any money out of it on a trade-in.
I gulped so loudly he noticed and my face turned a crimson red.
Finally I stammered and stuttered, then explained he had MADE MY DAY!
I said every time I thought I wanted or foolishly needed a larger or newer or nicer motorhome, I thought about the threat of monthly financing and I quickly fell in love all over again.
I didn't bother to explain much more, as I didn't want to offend him.
If the truth be known...
It would stress me out endlessly if I had to make monthly payments on my little old wheel estate. Six-hundred a month sounded like Hades to me. At least my little old wheel estate is paid for. It's old, with a few dings, some weird quirks and a penchant for appearing needy at times, but everything more or less works on it.
I am thrilled to live in it even if I have to share it with a canine critter who thinks he is the star of the show (while I am the mere butler, chauffeur and concierge in his way of thinking.)
I can live all month long on much less than $600. I can make a helluva lot of repairs and upgrades with $600 a month. Holy cow! $600 a month to spend on my RV would be like winning the lottery for sure.
Thinking about his payments on his little Class C, suddenly gave me a surge of energy, I haven't felt in weeks. Maybe I am finally getting well. (I was laid up for awhile recently getting next to nothing done but I am seriously on the mend.)
The rest of the day, I tackled all sorts of undesirable chores with a burst of vigor. Taking care of my little old wheel estate.
I just wanted to give my RV a giant hug and show it how much I loved it (for being paid for!) I certainly have tremendous respect for this heap of a beast that has housed and transported me for two years without requiring I make monthly payments to some greedy money monger. In my eyes, it might have been one of the smartest things I did towards my health and financial recovery. At the time, I had no idea my future would be a wild roller coaster of highs and lows there after. But, through it all, my motorhome has been there for me.
It's been pointed out to me, time and time again, by folks who wanted to be helpful, that for what I spent buying this RV and repairing it, I could have used that money as a "down payment" and "financed" something newer with monthly payments for only 10 or 15 or 20 years. In their eyes, this was a more desirable situation that I clearly overlooked.
Even the guy next door said his $600 a month payments "went on forever" and that he didn't want to think of the final cost of his RV.
I don't need newer, bigger, nicer. I'm happy enough to greet the day knowing I was oh so lucky to have such comfy housing last night.
And no RV payments.
I am living a Fairy Tale!
And it feels good.
Even if things are falling apart, so what, I haven't turned into a frog or a pumpkin (yet.)
Life be good. I am one lucky mermaid.
|Pastel by Dear Miss Mermaid|