Month: November 2021

Just In Time

~ Solo Chick Traveler ~ Leave a comment

My financial funds hadn’t been this low since I was in college. I wasn’t exactly eating ramen noodle, but I was checking my banking apps daily–sometimes several times a day–keeping a close eye on what was coming in (not much) and what was going out (much too much). Do I drop my car insurance? The camper insurance? Food?

Florida can sustain me with sunshine, the salty air in my hair and surround me with the calm and curiosity that the aqua blue of the ocean evokes. But a pandemic that ended my job made me dependent upon an unemployment benefit of $197 per week (one of the lowest in the country) that I had to coax from an archaic website meant to discourage access. There was literally a stick figure that moved across the screen telling me where I was in line.

I’d lived like this for the past year and a half. I was now newly employed, but the paychecks hadn’t hit my account yet. Just as I was scanning my mind for even more creative financing options–I’d already returned all the Amazon purchases that still had the refundable window open and spent all my gift cards and return merchandise credits–my birthday weekend rolled around.

And as I was working in my new gig of Pool Game Instructor, the topic would come up. This led to one of the guests/gamblers at my floating BlackJack table insisting, in his accent from Quebec, that he was buying me a birthday drink. And then another. Sure, he was winning, but it was only Monopoly money–er, chips.

I was drying off next to a chaise lounge after saying I really had to go to another resort and play more games in another pool when he came up to me and handed me a hundred dollar tip. I tried not to take it even as my wallet’s mouth watered, knowing how much I needed it. He pushed it back towards me. I shook my head, took a step backwards, trying to give my resistance deeper meaning.

“Just take it.” He said it so softly it was almost like he knew how much I needed it.

So I took it. Because I did. Badly. And then I thanked God once again for filling a gap that I was powerless to fill. I was grateful, this week before Thanksgiving, and somewhat amused that this Power greater than myself had Its own creative financing at play. Moments like this humble me. Remind me. Of that Bible verse “Consider the lilies of the field….”

Tales from the Side of the Road

~ Solo Chick Traveler ~ Leave a comment

No, I’m not broken down, everything works fine, I could leave anytime. But I don’t want to—-I’m in Key West. And everyone pays a high price to be here. I pay in guts, not money. I take chances; chances most people would be uncomfortable taking. It’s sometimes uncomfortable for me too, but I’ll take it over being a slave to corporate America any day. The price of my lifestyle is risk but with that risk comes great rewards—-freedom being one of my favorites.

I have good Spidey-senses and let my intuition be my guide; most of the time. Tonight was not one of those times. I hear their walkie-talkies before I hear them knock.

“Are you alone in there?” Always the first question.

You mean besides the fool who told me to park here? Is what I think but don’t say. “Yep. Just me and my kitty.”

They answer with the looks of disbelief that I’ve come to know so well (and actually kind of get off on). That boost that comes from being what I’ve always been—unconventional—never gets old. It only encourages me; adds fuel to my fire.

They let me stay after stern warning and one even helps me lift the steps into my camper back up.

I learned my lesson: don’t let anyone have the final say on where I lay. If it feels wrong, then move. I was not surprised by my middle of the night visitors, I was surprised that I’d let myself park somewhere that I felt in my gut wasn’t right.

“Everything Is About Your Freedom” ~Byron Katie

~ Solo Chick Traveler ~ Leave a comment

I suppose living on the side of the road could constitute a moment of reflection known as ‘Questioning One’s Life Choices.’ And maybe I was doing that, if only subconsciously. But I still felt pretty alright about it all. I had a view of the water through the tropical foliage that offered shade from the late afternoon sun. The temps had even started to cool, the day I unplugged from shore power and plugged in my solar panel there was a crispness to the wind–new, and just in time. That was November first.

Then my batteries stopped storing the solar energy that the sun was so freely providing. Okay, I’ll just turn off the fridge at night. Then another storm moved in and I came home to my solar controller beeping “Danger, Mrs. Robinson. Danger!”

Sigh. Maybe I’m crazy.

But I’m free. Not chained to a corporate desk. Not sleeping next to some man who I have little respect for and/or has little respect for me. Maybe, you say, those aren’t the only two options. You’re probably right–but I’ve seen and heard and lived so much of them that it’s worthy of concern.

I guess what it comes down to, is that I’ve never wanted or loved anything as much as I’ve wanted and loved my freedom. And I’ve never felt as free as I do, doing this. Untethered. I surf my mind while waves of unknowns swell and crest: Where will I work? Where will I land? (this side-of-the-road stuff is just temporary. I’ll be fighting with Wonton for the Christmas tinsel in a real, actual campground). Lithium battery or AGM? I can’t really afford either. The pandemic coupled with Florida’s abysmal unemployment compensation benefit, doled out by a website powered by a hamster wheel, has left my bank accounts looking like they did when I was in college.

Here’s the thing: in the early morning when my eyes flutter open and my soul is more awake than my brain, I feel filled with peace. An all is well sense of being. It’s only when the thoughts start that the worry sets in. But something bigger knows, and It is not fussed.

So, I’ll still take it. The whole hot mess of it. If I still must walk this earth — I want to do it on wheels. I’ll figure it out. When I was a kid I had a poster on my bedroom wall. I can still see the baby polar bear bent down and touching a landed butterfly, the words “Lord, help me to remember that nothing’s going to happen today that you and me can’t handle tougher.”

I say it again, with my trusting ten-year old voice. She’s the one with the faith.