IS IT HOME YET? (christi)

IS IT HOME YET? (Christi) I've been spending the last couple of days going through stuff. Right now I'm working on our tool trailer. It stores everything we need for the construction business. Needless to say, it's a mess. I know there are neat, organized men out there. My wonderful man is not one of them. His idea of cleaning up a job site is putting everything; tools, half empty caulk tubes and leftover hardware all in one coffee can or nail bucket. Then, if I'm lucky, that container will make it (barely), to just inside the doorway of the tool trailer. That's where I come in. Well, if I ever want to find those parts again. So, the biggest part of this cleaning and sorting project was finding at least 7 of these potluck containers. (I know, I better get used to potlucks.) I was actually surprised that I only had a handful of, "Honey, what is this and can we toss it?" Five years ago, me in a hardware store was like Michael in Victoria's Secret. I've come a long way, baby. But that's another blog. Anyway, as I was sorting and tossing, I heard a lot of sawing and screwing. (Get your mind out of the gutter.) I went to take a peek. Wow! I can see us living here. The walls are defining our living space. It reminds me of when we're building a house. The owners always have the same reaction. The foundation/slab looks small. Then as we start framing walls, it looks bigger and the 'wow factor' kicks in. Then the drywall makes it look smaller again. And as the paint and finishing touches go in, they see their home. As with them, I stand in our compact 40 x 8 foot space and see our place, our space, our home. We're building this for us, for our adventure. The building of it is an adventure in itself. Michael is finding himself in somewhat unfamiliar territory. He finds that he has jumped the gun now and then, and will have to back-track a little, or do something 'after the fact' that will make it a little more difficult than it might have been. Yet, he keeps moving forward, undaunted. I find myself once again amazed at his diligence and patience. Two qualities I lack miserably. I see my man working hard to fulfill his dream to go on the road again and I fall in love with him all over again. Honey, is it home yet? All the Best, Michael & Christi Please Comment Below

Framing (michael)

Framing.

Wood or steel? Steel or wood? Both have their good points. We are going with wood. I like wood. Metal studs are nice and lite, but I know wood. Daddy always said, "Go with what you know". And so we frame. We build all the walls 1-1/2 inches thick save for plumbing walls, they will be 3-1/2 inches for the water and vent lines. We are installing a king size bed. I know it takes a lot of room, but every time we stay in a hotel Christi says, "I can't wait to get back to our bed!" So, we are taking it with us. Next, I will frame the pantry. Mmm food. Let's see what Christi is cooking. Oh, Hmmm, OK back to work. All the Best, Michael & Christi Please Comment Below

Different Other Stuff (Christi)

Different Other Stuff It's interesting that Michael wrote on this topic of stuff. I've been thinking about it myself for the last few days and wanted to write about it, but wasn't sure what direction to take. It's interesting that as we get rid of stuff that we have been lugging around for years, we must at the same time gather new stuff for our pending adventure. By the way, we have lived in an RV before, though it was more of necessity than choice and we were parked pretty much the whole time. Living that way was much like the proverbial, 10 pounds of crap stuffed into a 5 pound bag. After almost 2 years, I was so anxious to get out of that rig, that we bought a trashed fixer upper (house) and moved into it in 2 weeks. We had plywood floors and just the bare essentials. But it felt like a mansion. So why would I even consider moving back into an RV again? Well, this time is much different. This time we are doing it because we want to. While Michael has toured before, this will be a first for me. I've had a small, but sweet, taste of what touring will be like and I can't wait to get on the road. As usual, I've gotten off the subject. This recent focus on stuff started about a week ago. We've been seriously down-sizing around the house, although there is still alot that must go. We sold one of our vehicles to a neighbor who, hearing of our plans, asked if we were interested in selling. It seemed the flood gates opened after that. Living in a small town can be a pain in the neck, but it has it's good points, too. It's hard to miss a 40 foot bus in someone's yard, so word go out. People slow down and gawk as they drive by. Another thing about a small town is that, after some trial and error, you find out who your real friends are. Almost all of our real friends have shown up with a contribution to our new venture. It's as if they want to be a part of it. Either that or they can't wait till we leave! I have to say thanks to Rocky, George, Doc, brother Bill and we can't leave out another Bill who gave us redneck decorating advice. (It is a bus after all). He suggested leaving the carpet runner on the ceiling and add rope lights. But the best yet...I told him about Michael wanting to keep our king-size bed because his feet hang over the end of smaller beds. He said, (you have to read this with a southern accent), "You don't need no king size bed, just push open that winder and stick yer feet out!" Thanks again, Bill. But the best and most surprising part of this has been the feeling of rightness. I was stressing about getting this bus, right now, in this economy, with our construction business verrrry sloooow. Money is tight. What the hell are we doing?? But as I drove behind Michael the day we brought the bus home, I knew it would be alright. I didn't know how for sure and I knew we had a lot of work ahead of us, but it would be OK and fun. And since the day we sold my car, it seems everything is falling into place. As if it's supposed to happen this way. I can't help but glance up at the Big Man Upstairs and say, "Thanks". All the Best, Michael & Christi Please Comment Below

Other Stuff (michael)

Other Stuff Stuff is a cunning beast. Just when you think you have gotten rid of the dead weight, it changes it's tactics. Oh yes, the Thrift Store still sings our praises as we arrive for our weekly deposit. Bags and boxes are carted inside while my hard fisted, eagle eyed wife stands guard like an Amazon warrior (a dream of mine) at the SUV making sure the beast doesn't sneak back into our realm. But then the oddest thing occurred. Other Stuff started showing up. Our friends began bringing Stuff. Good Stuff. They see a large MCI in our driveway as they follow the small town rumors to our door step. They give a courteous "hello", slow down and say "Hi" or start an idle conversation to get a peek inside. "Oooos" and "aaahhhs". We tell them our conversion plans and how much there is to do. Then, as if we asked them to volunteer to vanquish a rabid wolf, they vanish! I did say odd things were happening. An hour or perhaps, a day goes by and they come back with Stuff. Good Stuff. Each time they arrive with this Stuff, Christi stands with wonderment in her eyes. "Hey, this is good Stuff". We are getting water tanks, both fresh and gray, tile for the bathroom and kitchen, a power converter, an RV toilet, a gas generator and lots more and it keeps coming. Good Stuff. Great Stuff! Today, Christi went to the computer and started making a list of all the good Stuff. She showed me the Stuff list. "Look, look at all this Wonderful Stuff", she says. Can you see what has happened? The Beast! The Beast has changed into a cute, cuddly, little have to have it. My Amazon warrior has been hood winked. And I must say that I too have fallen back under the Stuff Spell. The sleepless dream of swimming in Stuff. I love Stuff, but we must keep our heads. Now it has to be the right Stuff. The Stuff that will help us get on the road again. The Stuff that dreams are made of. All the Best, Michael & Christi Please Comment Below

Christi's Virgin Blog (christi)

Christi's Virgin Blog So, I've finally decided to sit myself down and give this a go. So, please be gentle in the comment section. :) I've been waiting for the right time to add my input to this blogging thing. As I was drying my hair this morning, (a mindless mundane chore that allows my thoughts to wander), I was going over Michael's last couple of blogs. I realized that now that the rig is here, a lot of his writing will be interesting only to those who are nuts enough (our soulmates), to take on this type of project. While it may be a learning experience or guideline for some, for others...BORING!! Much like Michael's favorite TV shows. You know, The History, Science and NASA channels, or, are you ready?... THE RESEARCH CHANNEL, (can't they make this stuff more exciting?). Ok, so I have a short attention span. Anyway, back to the task at hand. Right now Michael is taking out all the overhead compartments, which seem to be built to hold Tammy Faye's cosmetic case instead of the average person's carry-on luggage. This job requires taking out every screw, nut and bolt, one at a time. Too tedious for me! My idea of demolition requires a crow bar sledge hammer and a Saws-All. MMMM, love those power tools! But then he is a much more patient soul than I. I look forward to the part where we get to start putting in flooring, walls, replacing windows, etc. Now that's excitement! Ok, so I probably could use a little help in the excitement department, too. Now that the bus is finally here, I find myself wanting to say, "Is it done yet? Can we go now?" Alas, there's sooooooo much to do before we can go anywhere, and not just readying the bus. It's a bit overwhelming. But I'll save that for next time. Oh, Honey! Where's that sledge hammer?? All the Best, Michael & Christi Please Comment Below

Its a dirty job but, someone has done it (michael)

It's a dirty job but, someone has done it. I dread the up coming event, and yet I can't wait for it to start! The research hours (and I mean hours of it), should come in handy. I can only hope it goes smoothly. In every article it seems the bus owner goes through the 7 gates of h*ll before slaying the putrid beast. Time and time again I read the out cries to the experts, "Heeeeelp, I can't go on like this." Is there another *%@* strap somewhere? UNCLE, Tag me. Please, I beg of Thee!!! They explain how they are covered from head to toe in crud, blood and frustration while chanting vile verses that would make a sailor cringe. Did these brave and brawny soles venture into this nasty task willy nilly? No research? No clue? I picture them standing alone in the bottom of of the deep pit with skin leaking where shards of stainless have pierced. A smoldering Saw-All clutched in filthy blue tinted hands as a deluge of rain drops fall down upon the defeated soldier. He looks up into the heavens and simply screams, WHHYYYY?!? It has all the makings of a true nightmare. Off course I'm talking about the removal of the bus privy. The stainless throne fortress that holds all the remnants of human "squat and leave its". I salute all those who have gone before me. This should rank up there with crossing the equator, H*ll week in college, earning the Arrow of Light or Eagle badge. There should be an annual convention just for Rolling Chamber Pot Removers and a boot camp that fledglings, like me, could go and listen to the ones who have been there, done that!" The Masters" And maybe, bring home a "How To" manual. And, don't hold me for a $59.95 ransom please. Some things should be gratis. At the very least, this one. I stand tall before the Gods. Its my turn now. It has to be done. I will go, but I will go in armed with all the information and required weapons I can find to dispatch the honey pot beast. My forefathers, my Masters, will be guiding my hands as I endeavor to cut the crap. Excuse the pun. Wish me luck. Wait! I have an idea, "Oh, Honey. I need a big, big favor..." All the Best, Michael & Christi Please Comment Below

Getting back on track ( michael )

Getting back on track. With all of the bus drama going on, we haven't stopped down-sizing. Each week that trickles bye, Christi remains on the lookout for stuff. She ventured into the Munchkin's domain last week. I did not see her or him for a full day. I did see boxes and bags of stuff appear just outside the portal of the forbidden waste land. The realm of our 11 year old is a high-tech cluttered cave at the end of the hall that emits sounds of horrible explosions, intense flashes of light and screams of bloody murder. Being an ex-military man, I damn near hit the dirt on my way to the bathroom when the red hot lead sprays out from the void along with the shrieks of zombies meeting their maker...again. How my wife mustered up the courage to enter such a vile place I'll never know. But, she did. She, with head held high stated, "I'm going in", and just marched right in. I would have at the very least thrown in a couple of frag grenades, then assault the fortress in the standard 2x2 formation. Not her! Armed with only a vacuum, trash bags and rubber gloves, she dove in. I love this woman. Hours later she emerged with victory in her eyes along with a small mountain of tween stuff banished to the local thrift store. Transportation of hoards is my job. Without haste, I load the SUV luggage rack with the things that were still alive, the rest went inside. I chained and locked down everything in fear that it may somehow crawl back into the forbidden zone, or more important, attack me! On the way I hit a pothole and something moved behind me as it let out a blood curdling scream. I powered through the feeling to bale and delivered the payload with due diligence. Arriving back home, I expected to see a stink faced tween and a disgusted mother, but instead, there was peace and harmony with a sense of pride. The rats nest had been transformed into an eye pleasing, young man's bedroom although those sounds are still there. All in all, we're all getting back on track. Wonders may never cease. All the Best, Michael & Christi Please Comment Below

Climbing the STUFF Mountain ( michael )

"You see that mountain up there? One of these days I'm gonna climb that mountain." No, not the Ole Rivers song. I'm talking about the STUFF mountain. The love of my life woke up this a.m. and stated, "We need to go through the back room this afternoon!" I say to myself, "Lord, where did all this come from?" Not only do we have our stuff, we have O.P.S. (other peoples stuff.) How did we become the Keepers of O.P.S.? Don't they live somewhere? Shouldn't they be responsible for there own stuff? How do we get rid of O.P.S.? Do you call them and say, "Hey, how are you? Come get YOUR stuff." And what if they just don't come and get their stuff? Do you take their stuff to them? Do you give it to the local thrift store? Do you put O.P.S. out on the curb??? Is this legal? Sometimes life is tough, and it requires tough love. Yes, we should be nice about it, BUT, we have to get rid of our stuff too. OK, we will start with nice. I gaze upon all of our stuff and think back of how a certain THING came to be here. Do I/WE really need it? I trace back to Toast Floats blogs. "Hale to Toast" With the space and weight limitations of an RV, we must think; how many functions can this THING do? Does this THING hold that much sentimental value? Will LIFE go on without this THING? It is a true blessing to be able to read what other people have gone through preparing to hit the road. Maybe we can avoid some costly mistakes along the way. "Honey, tie off this rope." "Yodalahehoooooo." Where the hell did this come from??? It's gonna be a long afternoon!