Much to Be Thankful For

I have the solution to keeping warm. Long underwear, regular long-sleeved shirt, two wool sweaters and, when exiting the house, down jacket and wool scarf.

The lower half, though, was a bit chilly, despite long underwear, flannel pajama bottoms, and jeans. In my continued quest to rediscover my possessions in the storage trailer, though, I came across an unopened package of air force quilted pants from Phil's Dad (size medium, which might explain why they were unopened: they fit me, and Phil's Dad is about a foot taller than I am).

Now I am warm! I go outside and do chores, and cook, and peek in boxes in the storage trailer, all in 20 degree weather, all without chill! I am so thankful.

And at night, we've capitulated and allow the three younger boys to join us. For some reason, though, one boy or another cries out in the night, so the one night of uninterrupted sleep has not repeated yet.

Yesterday morning, I was especially grateful for the new pants: it was so cold the night before, the ice in the cattle trough was over an inch thick. Thankfully, Phil has started to drain the water line every night, so the line wasn't frozen. However, the pump house was, so we had no water at all for a time. (I had checked the pump house a month ago, and the lightbulb we keep there to prevent freezing had burned out. We purchased new, but had not installed the bulb yet. Thankfully, about four hours after we turned the new bulb on, the pump worked again.)

It was so cold, a butternut squash left in the barn had frozen to the core.

But we are all warm. The boys even decline sweatshirts much of the time. Their circulation must be better than mine.

I had a marvelous day today as I peeked in storage. I realized last week that, after last Christmas, I packed away our Christmas stockings ... somewhere. So I have tried to open a box or two a day, seeking those socks (and any clothes or books I no longer require: make way for the new!).

I found them today! All our socks! What a relief. Christmas can come now.

Even better, I found my shoes. The week before we moved to Virginia, I went to a great Goodwill and came away with about six pairs of shoes, mostly church/city shoes. Living in the country meant that those shoes weren't practical, and since living space is so tight, and since we didn't even attend church the first six months we were here, I packed them away, pulling out one serviceable pair, in case I needed to go somewhere dressy.

That serviceable pair wore a hole in the bottom after a few months, though, and I was left with holey sneakers (now replaced with new) and wooden sandals as my choices for church footwear.

One Sunday I made a frantic foray into storage, seeking shoes. I didn't want to buy new: I had six pairs waiting for me. But they were not to be found, and that was a Sunday I cried on the way to church, embarrassed to feel too poor to have anything but wooden clogs, despite chilly weather. (We aren't poor, but the shoe situation made me FEEL poor, if that makes sense.)

Today, the shoes turned up. How fun, to put them on again, to admire their colors and shapes, their make and their quality.

When we visited my friend Jill last year, a bizarre circumstance (instigated by one of my sons and a Guido Cars-the-Movie car) caused her brand new Jeep keys to vanish. Months later, she found them, and called to say, "I am more happy to have them back than I was if they were just always there!"

And so it is with my shoes: so, so thankful to have them.

***

I had an epiphany of sorts earlier this week. I mentioned to my Mom that our house in Boulder averaged about $7K a year in maintenance and upgrades (we happened to own it around its 40th anniversary, a time, I've noticed, that houses tend to give up the ghost on many original fixtures, fashions, and fences). What have we spent on this little space?

Probably not nothing, since we had to put up shoe racks, needed sealant for the door, and bought several space heaters to keep from freezing (and the window A/C to keep from cooking). So maybe we're at $500 for the year. I like that!

I like that I pulled a box of old Playmobil out of storage today, and all four boys played in the room while I worked, happy, focused, creative. While I don't like cooking in a fully separate area (either barn or motor home), I do like that I trust the boys to get along, that I rarely hear loud outbursts of hysterical crying while I'm away, often for an hour cooking or washing dishes. I miss hearing their chatter, but I like that they don't need me right there.

We've been in this unconventional living space about a year and a half. I realized that there's a part of me that has been waiting for a house all that time, almost like I'm waiting for my real "life in Virginia" to begin, once I have all my possessions around me, and a real kitchen to cook fantastic feasts.

I'm done waiting for that day, and am ready to embrace my life here, trailer and all. That doesn't make me trailer trash; I would like to think it makes me thankful.