The Sandcastle

Because you asked.

My corner of the living room. Including my chair, desk, and yes, two trashcans. One for trash and one for paper recycling. And the pull-up bar I’m supposed to be using to stretch out my left arm; my elbow bends sideways which make my reach short. We have not yet bought overhead light fixtures so I get my desk area light through the kitchen pass-through for now.

The view from my chair. The bedroom door is just to the right of the TV. We still don’t watch live TV but we do stream programs or movies most evenings. Those things on the chair are pictures/paintings we have not yet rehung. The chair is sitting in front of the huge cold air return to the furnace/AC system which is just on the other side of that wall. The door to the left goes to our tiny balcony–just big enough for two chairs and a small table which are not actually out there right now.

The view from the couch towards the front door, coat closet with stacked washer/dryer, my parked Scoot, and the bedroom door.  Yesterday’s picture of Dave’s corner with his chair and piano keyboard and the couch was taken from my Scoot.

And this is what you see if you get closer to the windows. Our front parking lot, our street (designated a parkway), and the ponds across the way that have walking paths and a playground. That metal tower in the upper right side of the picture is along I-494 but we no longer have an exit near us. You have to go past our side street to a freeway exit and circle back to get to us now.

So a less accessible location to get a more accessible apartment. Only about two miles from our previous apartment so we still know how to find things like the grocery stores, library, and city hall. Yes, we need to file homestead taxes here; there is a special statute for Continuous Care Retirement Centers which lets the building owners get a tax break for each occupied unit. If we don’t file we have to pay the difference. So we’ll file, thank you very much.

TTYL,

Linda

I think all the boxes are now unpacked but we haven’t hung pictures yet. Since some of you are anxiously awaiting details here’s a couple photos for you.

The leaves had peak color last week when we were actually moving. Rain and wind have since caused much loss but this it still not bad, eh?

And to give you an idea of how well I’m sleeping with all the stress of moving here’s another picture for you:

Yes, that’s sunrise this morning. At least we have sun today for the first time since move day.

TTYL,

Linda

Here’s another one of those novel starters that appeared in my head one day:

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When Ma called me Mary Margaret in that special tone of voice I always felt like she’d grabbed a fistful of my shirt and pulled me up in her face so my toes just barely touched the ground. Now you gotta understand, Ma didn’t have to lay a hand on me and, even if she had, since I was twelve I’ve been nearly six feet tall and Ma’s barely five feet so she couldn’t have lifted me up on my toes. But when she used that special tone of voice…

So now Joey’s using that tone of voice and I react as if he were Ma. First I flinch. Then I start babbling explanations. Then I realize it’s hopeless. So I just sorta dangle there waitin’ to see what he’s gonna say or do next.

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Anyone out there have any idea what Joey was going to do next? If so, I’d sure appreciate you sharing it with me.

TTYL,

Linda

ps. Moving date one week from today. Full and empty boxes are having a convention in our living room.

I have several friends who are authors. Sometimes they say the characters in their heads just start talking with the author having no idea where they are going. That happened to me yesterday.

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“So, do you want to know what I did or not?” I demanded.

“Nor sure,” he replied. “Do I?”

I hate wimps who cannot make decisions. But, given my history his reply was not really surprising. Hi. My name is Stacy Ramone. Stacy short for Anastasia. Yes, I am named after the famous Russian Princess. What’s a girl to do when named after a princess? She either becomes a princess or the opposite. I chose the latter.

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It turns out I’m pretty good at writing opening sequences. But, since I have no idea what Stacy did or what she plans to do next this is probably another book I’ll never write.

Unless the voices in my head decide to continue the story.

TTYL,

Linda

I was ten years old.

Three families,including mine, decided to try a new adventure. The fathers rented camping trailers and we headed out.

The lunch stop along the way looked like this:

Yes, that’s the trailer my Dad rented. No that’s not me in front. That’s my friend who many years later became my step-sister. That’s her Mom on the left and her Dad in back. My Dad is on the right.

When setting up, each end of the trailer is lifted causing the ends to unfold from inside. Once those are locked in place it looked like this:

The canvas roll you see near Dad’s feet is one of the bunks waiting to be fitted into sockets on the ends. There were three on each side. It became my job to make up the beds–bed rolls made from folded blankets on this trip.

Dad snapped the tops of the canvas sides into place then my brothers helped snap the sides and bottom until we got this:

If you look closely you can see the awning that extended from the door end of the unit that had sides that could be clipped to the awning. It was just big enough to hold a picnic table which was good because it rained all weekend.

Here are the three units set up for the weekend at Giant City State Park:

The other family with three kids rented a unit just like ours. The family that only had two kids rented a more standard type–one that had a foldout bed on each side.

There was a creek right behind our rigs where we kids played most of the weekend. After all, we were already wet from the rain so why not play in the creek? The adults spent most of the weekend playing cards at one of the inside picnic tables.

Apparently, they enjoyed this trip as much as we did because the fathers all bought those rigs when we returned home. And we camped from Memorial Day to Labor Day every summer for the next five years. Sometimes with these same three families. Sometimes with members of the Central Illinois Family Campers, an organization we soon joined.

Usually the first trip of the season was at Weldon Springs, a park close to home where we could take a shake down cruise to relearn how to do this. We got so good at setup that we could have everything done and be sitting down to supper 10 minutes after Dad parked the trailer.

One summer we took the trailer and headed to California. We only made it to Arizona though before we ran out of time and money so had to turn back towards home. I have fond memories of that trip and many other shorter ones.

Many years later, after Dave & I became empty nesters, I talked Dave into renting a Class C motorhome to drive out west by telling him we could follow the Burlington Northern RR tracks as we went west then the UP tracks back east. We had a great trip!

Which is probably why I pushed Dave to go full time RVing after we retired. And I’m not sorry he gave in. We saw all 48 contiguous states in the 3+ years we were out there. So I added lots to my stash of memories to replay in my mind now that my body says I can’t travel like that anymore. It’s been hard to give up that addiction. But, it is what it is.

TTYL,

Linda