doing the limbo


I am caught in that thick, heavy, sticky space between making a firm decision and getting to the time of being able to act on that decision. This seems to be a space that is especially reserved for those life events you are most excited about. At least that seems how it is for me. Do you remember that game you played as a kid? The limbo? (Do they still do this these days, or have I completely dated myself?). Where your goal is to turn yourself into a contortionist as you try to get from where you stand, under a bar set impossibly low (if you make it that far), and to the space on the other side. You cannot rush headlong under the bar, crouching down on all fours, where it is easy to balance, easy to see where you are going. Oh no. Instead, you must bend backward. You cannot touch the ground with your hands, you cannot touch the bar, and you cannot see well where you are going. You walk…if it can be called that…feet first, arms flailing about to keep your balance, and hoping the rest of you can keep up without collapsing in heap on the floor halfway between where you were standing and your goal. That’s me right now. Doing the limbo. It’s even better on roller skates.

I’ve decided that I need to hit the road again. Gail has decided to stay put for now. This new adventure is something I very much look forward to, but it feels surreal. It’s somewhere off in the distance, on a horizon I can just see. I thought time would speed up once I got the work done on the rig. Did it the weekend before last. Hallelujah, I didn’t have to replace anything that had to do with the breaks! Knight seems to be in good order, capable of carrying me and the boys along the dusty roads (or paved highways and byways) safely. The biggest undertaking after determining the brakes looked good was to get a plug-n-play inverter hooked into my house batteries, which are also fed by solar. With my bro’s help (okay, so he pretty much did everything), that’s done. Oil is changed. Back sidelight that got smashed in the gas pump debacle replaced. Electric cord cap replaced. Now what? I find myself waiting. Wondering what it is I can write about here that will be worth reading for those of you who continue to keep coming back (THANK YOU!!!, btw). How do I make the waiting interesting, exciting, or insightful?

I could say some wise words about patience. Again. Except that I find I have no more of it than I did before. I’m pretty sure the universe will keep tossing me into these situations over and over and over again. One day I might learn. That doesn’t mean that I’ll never have to wait again. Just that I won’t mind it so much. If it were autumn in the Midwest, the waiting might be just a tad easier. I would be enjoying the cool days and changing leaves, hiking on nearby trails every weekend I could. But summer has decided to slam into us at full speed and doing much more than melting is out of the question. Especially on a day like today. At 10 a.m., the temperature was already a blazing 93 degrees, and the heat index was a scorching 102. Gatsby was pissed at me because he just couldn’t understand why he couldn’t sit out in his tent like he does basically every day it isn’t raining. So, after hearing him yell (in his most insistent meowing voice) at me for a while, I took him out for about five minutes, brought him inside, and I haven’t heard a peep out of him since. I think he gets it now. At least for the next half hour or so.
Needless to say, I am itching to go. As are the cats. I can see it in their day-to-day demeanor. The appeal of living in an RV is the movement. The new scenery on a regular basis. The excitement of what awaits in this new territory. New smells. New birds. Will there be another buffalo (that was so exciting!)? Or perhaps some horses or deer. Those are cool too. The movement is key for me and the cats. We seem to be good for about a month. We’ve been at this particular campground for more than three months now. And while it is a lovely little campground, with the nicest owner and camp hosts around, it’s still been three months. So, why not just leave, you ask? I can’t. Not just yet. Gail moves into her apartment this weekend, but it will likely take a few days to a week, because of work, to get her completely moved in and then to get the rig space reorganized for 1 + 3 (humans + cats). I am also teaching a summer course at the university where I used to clock in for a career job every week. For any of you who have taken a summer course, you know how insanely fast everything moves. It isn’t much different for those of us who teach them. Grades are due on the last day of July. I will wait until that is finished before launching. I am looking at the first week in August. One month to go. Until then, me and the cats will be just over here, doing the limbo. I’ll update you on our progress probably one more time before we successfully make it to the other side.
Until then…