So Much Time?

Where are we? 

Jones Hill, Gympie. Part rural, part suburb. We are within an expanding housing estate with many new builds. 

Time? So much time? 

Every other day we have someone, usually a very well-meaning individual, remark on how much time we must have on our hands!  Or they ask what we have recently done that’s exciting. Of me, women often ask, “Are you knitting? Do you crochet? You must have so much time now.” “Which books have you read lately?” Of AJ, "How's your golf coming on?" 

Politely we answer, but before we are tempted to roll our eyes, we remember that folk do not grasp the intricacies of our lifestyle.

Before the wheels of the van can roll, countless tasks must be ticked off. Checklists are our go-to. Everything must be secured and ticked off. Inside and out. Once the campsite is set up, the interior also needs setting up to function smoothly. There is a checklist for that too. Everything must be placed where it belongs. ALL. THE. TIME.

The day usually begins with a walk. A long walk. Or with an attempted workout session. 

After a shower we have breakfast. A good one! Stamina is needed for the day. Morning devotionals, Bible reading and prayer – THE most important ingredient for said stamina – are slotted in somewhere too. Often while we walk.

The van must constantly be kept clean, or we have uninvited passengers – the creepy-crawly kind. Usually, there are tyres to inflate and then deflate. (A must for towing.) There is fuel to be sourced. Water to be sourced. Yes, we must plan where to get water. 

Like you, we can simply open a tap in the van, but it must first get into the tanks beneath us, before we can open the tap. That can be hard work and take a good chunk out of the day.

In between daily tasks, there are routes to work out, reservations to make (if necessary), supplies to be shopped for (we cannot carry a month’s worth in a van), and washing to do since we only have enough to wear for a few days. House sitting research and agreements are time-consuming. Making doctors’ and dentists’ appointments takes on a whole new dimension, as you ponder the calendar to see where you will be at that point.

Inevitably there is something to fix. Or something to reattach to the wall. Or something to store under the bed, which requires taking everything off the bed that you have temporarily placed onto the bed to get it out of your way.

And then there’s the admin! Logbooks to update for the taxman. Expenditure spreadsheets. A budget to monitor. Annual payments to schedule. Job research. Warranties to maintain through annual inspections. Online advice to monitor, to keep up to date with State requirements. Since we mostly work online, we have a commitment to update and maintain computers. Software updates. New software to learn. Technology tutorials. 

Social media! Keeping followers happy. Replying to multiple messages from the four corners of the world is a pleasure, albeit a challenging one. Thus, these blog posts. Interacting with others is what it’s all about … after all it’s called social media. Conversation, like tennis, cannot be maintained only from one side. And one doesn’t lurk! Lurking is … in the same camp as being a peeping Tom. It takes me a long time to write and publish a blog post. 

Suffice it to say that I write and read, read and write; write and read … mull over … sleep on … edit. Read, edit, read; rewrite and read. Then edit some more! You get the picture?

“Time waits for no one,” said someone somewhere. How true! When you look again, midday is encroaching. My man believes in meals at a certain time. It’s the way he was raised, and the way it’s been done for 43 years of our togetherness. But it’s good because once the main meal of the day is done, the afternoon affords more time for tasks. (Shall I let you in on a secret … by 3 pm I’m usually horizontal for 30 mins, struggling to remain vertical. But even then, I simultaneously listen to a grammar podcast or read editing theory. Oh, for a good fiction book! Maybe one day. *sighs*)

House sitting

When house sitting, the home must be kept scrupulously clean or else the task is that much harder once we’re ready to vacate. When we have house sittings booked back-to-back, we find ourselves in a strange house, cooking in a strange kitchen, sleeping in a strange bed, and so on, every 2 to 3 weeks. And goodness … can we move in?! 

Computers, screens, printer, toiletries, clothing, linen and towels (yes, we use our own), groceries and more are carted in. Everything we use that isn’t ours must be replaced in its spot after use, or we will not remember where it belonged. Our grocery supplies join the homeowners’ in their grocery cupboard and fridge. Each of our items need to be marked, or at the end of the gig we’re going, “Which is which?” “Whose is whose?”  “Is this my mixed herbs, or hers?”  “Is this our tomato sauce, or theirs?” “Are these frozen mixed veg ours?” “Is this hand soap ours?” It’s even more confusing when both shop at the same stores and favour the same products. In some cases, we move so often, that when AJ is looking for something, for example, I’ll say, “It’s on the counter” … when that was at the previous place. In the current house it has a new spot. Sometimes it does my head in. AJ’s too.

 

There are the inevitable small tasks written on a list. And often, when we attempt to use the vacuum cleaner, it needs a cleaning service before it is effective. Or the toilet leaks. Or the kitchen sink leaks. Or a plug doesn’t seal. There is always something that AJ needs to mend.

 

There is usually a garden to water and keep tidy and lawns to mow. Some gardens take hours a day, some a couple of hours a week. Also pot plants … at some gigs there are myriad numbers (plants that I have never seen before which I pray over, for fear of killing them … 🥴😅), tucked away in every nook and cranny, hanging from beams, parading at doorways and then sometimes there are few. I favour the manufactured kind, that do not need water!

Perpetual scanning of your surroundings for critters takes massive amounts of focus and awareness-energy. And time! “Close the door!” “Close the screen!” is the continual cry, as we watch for snakes, spiders, geckos and even toads, which love to slip in by a door. 

The mozzies and midges aim to eat you alive. The big 5 in Africa are mostly contained behind fences. Here, even an insect screen cannot keep the smallest ones out and everything is on a mission – to zap, to bite, to kill, or to move in with you. As I type now, I’ve swatted the back of my neck, feeling something unseen crawl on me. Perhaps it's all this talk of the critters. And I keep spotting that gecko that slipped in two days ago when it dropped off the outside of the door into the house … he’s behind the cupboard in this room. Every time, every time, I spot it, I think it’s a snake.

Just yesterday we had an Air Conditioner go thud, thud, thud, on us, and stop. The hottest day of the year! Feel temp 40C. Upon investigation outside, there it was – a snake – unceremoniously (as our son-in-law remarked) wrapped around the blades of the unit’s fan. Unable to identify it, I phoned the local snake catcher. He arrived 30 minutes later, without me having taken my sweltering eye off that unit. I grinned when I noted that he’s as old as we are, and also takes double the time to get down on his hands and knees to investigate. 

When the cover came off, out came a recently deceased snake, still in its death throes … for a call-out fee of $110. Ugh! 

It’s against the law to kill a snake in this country (or so we have been told), but darn … who can afford a snake catcher? So next time, guess what?! If we are unable to send Scaly-the-snake off to a safe spot, it will be la-la-land for either one of us or for Scaly, as we attempt our own capture-and-release.

While in the Gympie region, if the telephone rings and we receive a request for help from our beloved daughter, everything is put on hold for a good 4 or 5 hours, and off we go to do grandparent duties. We’ve chatted with grey nomads in campsites, who have bravely confessed that their kids don’t know where to find them. And when they do, they quickly move on, leaving them to catch up again. 

So?

“So?”, you may remark, “this is no different to my day, and I get to make things, to read, to gym etc.”

Well, maybe it’s just me/us … but at the end of each day we’re pooped! I hit the sack at 8 pm, AJ not long after. We are up again at 5 am, only for it all to start over. Again, I say, this is the life we have chosen. This is the life we are making the most of. Independence and survival are at the top of the list for us. Where is the time to enjoy a good book? Where is the time to quietly knit or sew? Where is time for sightseeing and doing exciting things? And playing golf takes the better part of a full day!

No … not for us. We had our turn in Qatar. Now, it is not our turn.

Nevertheless, now and then we do get to have fun moments, and they are valued, to be sure. Sometimes they pounce upon us unexpectedly. They can arrive without fanfare. Many times, they are over in a flash … if you weren’t alert and mindful, they’d pass you by. Even some planned moments are merely fleeting. But thankful, grateful, and blessed we are.

 

Thanks for stopping by. 🌼

Blessings. 

Images: 

All tree frog cartoon images by Alexa from Pixabay

Bug image by 17314653 from Pixabay

Frog ornament image by 165106 from Pixabay

Frog in the boat image by Eveline de Bruin from Pixabay

Alpacas, Cows, and Christmas Wishes

Where are we? 

We are still in the Gympie region.

Minding four Alpacas

Towards the end of Nov, we had secured a housesitting to look after four female Alpacas. We parked our caravan in the driveway of the home, bid the couple farewell an hour later, and then set the van up so we could live in it for the 7 days that we were there. We did not need to use the house, since there were no other pets. It began to pour with rain which was truly a blessing. And did it pour! The Alpacas appeared even more comical with their wet hair. 😂 

They were skittish and mostly unapproachable, but by the end of the week they had begun to be used to us. If we carried treats, they would come. Alice, the leader of the pack decided if all was safe or not. If she came forward, all would. 😁 Here she is ...

On a morning I noticed that one, Mona, had an eye infection. After chatting with the owners, they decided to call in the vet. When he arrived later that afternoon, we had secured all four into the smallest enclosure so that she would be easier to catch. The vet nonchalantly asked AJ to assist him, by holding down the animal when he has her in his grip. However, in the process of getting a grip on her, she turned her body and spit, and AJ copped it good and solid! 😂 Full-on frontal spit – from his hat to his toes! 🤭 Afterwards the vet laughingly said, “I didn’t tell you they spit because I needed your help!” Good man! Lol. Fun fact: Llamas kick, Alpacas spit. 😅

During the procedure of treating the eye, the vet found he needed a different instrument and it was in his van… he said, “Hold on AJ, I’ll be back.” Well, with her neck released, she tried to stand up. You have no idea how powerful those animals are, as small as they are! AJ found himself losing his grip and had to apply more shove to keep her down, with huge encouragement from the two onlookers… the vet and I. 😅 But I think it was the fear of being spat on with green goo for a second time that helped adrenalin to kick in, so she stayed down! Oh yes, she stayed down! Regardless of his 66-year-old upper leg muscles burning for a release. 😂😁 

Another fun fact: Alpacas always poo on the same spot. And their poo can be used immediately as compost in the garden. And when one goes to the toilet... they often all do, apparently. 😊 

Shovelling the poo pile

Alice, cooling her feet and chillin.

Too soon, the week was at an end. We went off to stay on the cow paddock rest spot for nomads, just outside of town. There we are off-grid, but goodness gracious, off-grid does NOT work for us in 35 C heat! 

We sweltered through the second day and sat under the awning, praying for a breeze, but the next day, long before it was time to head off, we packed up, parked the van outside Nadya’s house, and sat in her air-conditioned space until 4 PM when we were due to check in at our next homesitting — looking after 24 cattle. 😅

Cows, cows, cows ... and 1 bull. 

December kicked off with us receiving three days of patient instruction from the farmer. Ahead of the time, we had thought, aaah, it’ll be fine! It’s a different feeling altogether when you’re in the feeding camp with 24 cattle! Standing near that huge Brahman bull, while he gives you the once over with his eyeball, makes you wonder if this was a good idea after all.

These beasts are the farmer’s delight… his hobby, his pets, as it were. And says he, “These get a little treat here”, and “These get a little treat there”. And “they love a brush!” And “this one loves a scratch behind the ear, while this one loves a stroke under the chin.”

 

Monday morning, bright and early, the couple were due to depart to Brisbane to catch their flight. Placing the list of the cows and their ‘personality’ description into our hands, he says ‘you’ll be right, we have full confidence in you both”, and off they went! Gulp! That afternoon we prompted each other through the prepping of the feeding camp for the next morning. The next morning arrived far too soon. As we made our way to the feeding camp, each of us silently mulled over the approach to the task. But all went well, and we heaved a sigh of relief. We did not linger to scratch, stroke, and brush. No siree. We hightailed it out of there to our first cup of coffee of the day. No coffee ever tasted that good after having a bull eyeball you, to check you out! Fortunately, the pellets and molasses and fresh lucerne were more interesting! 😂

On the second morning, we noticed that Cassie the cow’s limp had gotten far worse…she was hobbling! What to do? The farmer had pulled a ‘thorn’ (more like a splint to us) from between her toes on her left leg. Clearly, there was still something there and the infection was getting worse. Her foot was swollen. We contacted the owner by email and had to wait for a reply. He contacted the vet and let us know how things would work to get poor Cassie seen to.

A relative would arrive mid-morning two days hence (poor Cassie had to hobble till then) as he was a cattleman and would help us muster them into the catch stall. The vet was only available for a site visit that day, at 13:00. The day before the vet’s visit, we were instructed to open a gate to a smaller paddock after their morning feed and to close the gate where they usually depart from to the larger paddock. That caught them all for the day, in the small paddock. The next morning, 4.30 AM, true to form, they were forced to line up towards the catch stall to get into the feeding camp. Only this time, we would not arrive to let them in. There they would stand until the relative and vet arrived. This broke my heart. They were bellowing away, calling out, “Where’s our breakfast”, until I couldn’t take it anymore and emailed the farmer. He phoned us and suggested we put a few bales of hay over the fence to keep them happy. At least they had access to water. 

The old catcher

The new cow catcher

It was a blistering day! The sun was merciless. We waited. And we waited. The relative cattleman let us know he was running late. The cattle stood. We waited. The sun beat down. The flies even let up. Just too hot. The cattleman, just when he was due to arrive, let us know that he was 40 minutes away! 😩 

The cattle stood. We waited. It was 11:30, but it felt like 14:00. Finally, he arrived, and we made our way down. And there stood Cassie, near the front of the queue. All they needed to do was close one gate and she was where she needed to be to enter the cowcatcher (my name for it 😅). Cassie plus 3 other cows were closed up, while the rest were let out to feed.

We waited. The 4 cows stood patiently. Two hours later, the vet arrived. I had called twice to find out why it was taking so long. The second time I think the tone of my voice gave my dismay away. Twenty minutes later she arrived… friendly smile, pony-tailed and bouncing on her feet. But did she handle that cow?! She caught her in the catch first time, bringing that headlock down into place. She managed the block and tackle to hold her fast with ropes and examined the hoof. A couple of (gigantic) jabs later, Cassie was good to go. Was it 15 mins? All that, for 15 mins. 😅 I had stood aside observing, far from the action. AJ was there in the thick of it, lending a hand where he could. In fact, at one point he saved the day when the cattleman inadvertently gave Cassie an escape route. AJ was a star throughout. The next day Cassie was way more comfortable, and two days later she was walking normally. Quite the experience for two greenies.

Cassie being treated

On the second day of our stay, we also copped a hail storm like no other. It was our first time to experience such huge hail stones. It was a miracle that the van was not pockmarked afterward, and even our awning was out because we were unprepared for  the suddenness of the storm, as well as its intensity. Frightening, to say the least.  

One hailstone broke through a skylight in the house and AJ had to give it a temporary fix. We always pray that destructive storms would not come our way. We got the tail end ... they were few but mighty. In Gympie proper there was massive damage. Poor people.  

As the days progressed, we grew more comfortable with reading the cows. I began to face my fear and gave the odd one a brush and one morning even managed a cuddle. Yes, cows can be cuddled … on their terms. 😆 AJ patted those who were interested, and overall, things went well. We were grateful.

Cuddling a cow

The calves are a favourite

Deb insists on a brush

We had one incident where the cows were pushing and shoving at the closed gate before their feed, and Eric, a small calf, was pushed halfway through the barbed wire fence. There it lay, half his body on this side and half on the other, unable to get up and extricate itself. Being closer to the poor thing than AJ at that moment, I reacted instinctively to help it. Remembering at the last minute to do everything slowly, and feeling rather fearful, I lifted him by the side of his belly. Finding his feet, he stood up. The wire had done some damage, but thankfully not too much or too deep. Poor baby.

The sunrise is spectacular from the house. Three weeks flew by. 

While we were here, we had our caravan serviced to maintain the warranty. Oh my goodness, we did not know what we were in for. The whole van had to be emptied. Luckily we had access to a shed for storage. 

We sorted through everything, cleaned it thoroughly, and then packed it all back again. It took a week! 😣😖 And all while we had a heatwave going. 😅

It was such a good feeling though when it was done. 

The farmer and his wife arrived yesterday after island hopping, and we are hanging around on their property to watch the cows again for two days when they go to Brisbane for Christmas with their daughter. On the 26th, we head back to Tandur to look after our favourite four-legged friends, the French bulldogs.

Merry Christmas 

Christmas and all its customary celebrations are only days away. Over the last few weeks, we have been part of a team at our church, working on a Christmas Lights display project, to tell the community the true Biblical story of Christmas. What a blessing to see families come through and read about the wonder of the gift of the Christ-child born long ago. Many Bibles were accepted. Tracts were given out. And of course, the humble candy cane delighted each child (and some adults too! 😁).

 

At this point, we would like to wish every one of you, our family members and friends, a blessed Christmas season. May your barbecue be blessed, your trifle be a success, and the Christmas cake last into the New Year.  May your joy be complete as you gather with loved ones and enjoy each day to the full, wherever you might be, as we ponder the wonder that was the miracle virgin-birth of Jesus Christ.

Image by Kevin Sanderson from Pixabay

We know that the actual day of Christ’s birth is unknown and that the day assigned to the celebration was merely an attempt to Christianize pagan traditions. Nevertheless, it is a celebration we can enjoy to the full, knowing that God sent His only son to be born fully human. He grew to be a man, to teach us about the Father, and to demonstrate God’s grace and love. This is mind-boggling — to know that He willingly obeyed His Father, even unto death on the cross. But He arose victorious, having overcome the enemy, so that we can have a gate through which we might enter the Kingdom of God. This gate opens to those whose hearts are turned towards Him, and who acknowledge that Jesus is the Saviour, the Son of God. The ultimate, priceless, gift. 

Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!  And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.” Luke 2 vs 9-14.

 

Merry, Merry Christmas to you.

Thanks for stopping by. 🙏🏻

You want to live in a caravan? Read this first ...

Van life, 24/7

Image by Alexa from Pixabay

A typical morning

We get up in the morning and slide off the bed … the foot end of the bed. In fact, each time you need the loo during the night you must remember to slide off the foot end. While the bed is long enough for my 6 ft hubby, when it’s extended (to get an extra 10 cm of comfort at night) it obliterates any space needed to get a leg around the side edge … the kitchen cupboard on my side, the dining seat on hubs’ side. 😄

So, sliding out of bed, you make your way to the bathroom, knocking your head on the overhead cupboard as you turn to sit on the loo. Then you knock your elbow on the benchtop, after stubbing your toe on the under-sink cupboard that juts out ever so slightly.

To wash your hands and face first thing in the morning you bend over the wash basin and invariably knock your forehead against the tap mechanism because it’s all black so you just don’t see it. You splash water on your face; it goes everywhere, including onto your cosy, warm, just-out-of-bed feet, because the wash basin is so miniscule. Irritated, you now have to dry arms, elbows, face, and feet.

Put the kettle on! Oh, wait … kettle is outside to make space inside. You grab a cover-up to step outside (most often a blanket … mornings can be chilly but it’s the easiest). Holding the blanket with one hand, you aim to fill the kettle with the other. (It takes practice.) Ugh … the outdoor kitchen was packed away for the night … it first has to be pulled out and the water tap put into position.  Kettle filled, you’re faced with early-morning-before-coffee decisions … either carry the sugar basin, coffee filter, coffee, milk etc. outside, or you bring the kettle indoors and make the coffee here. But hubs is still sleeping. Oh wait, washed cups are outside. Out you go with everything. You make several trips because you’re holding onto your cover-up. (Who gets dressed before coffee?) By this time the squeaky stair and door have hubs awake. He’s not a morning person. 😫 “What are you doing …?” he croaks in that morning voice.

The stair into the van is high because of the 17” wheels (“why do you have 17” wheels?”, you ask. Because, according to hubs, the van was supposed to match the height of the Ford Ranger which is now history 😞). Each time you go in and out it feels as if you’re climbing Mount Everest. We bought an external separate step to ease the effort on our somewhat ageing knees. So it’s two steps into the van, then two steps more inside the van. Early in the morning it’s fine … if your bones have recovered from the previous day’s activities and the joints all work. Let’s face it, 60+ years of age is not for namby-pambies. But by midday, you wait for your partner to go into the van and then ask them to get what you need. 🤭 It’s continually a “pass me the … while you’re there” or “since you’re in there, please grab the … for me”. 😂 Partner is immediately irritated because he/she now has an extra task which often involves looking for the item the other person needs.

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Back to breakfast … you’ve carried the eggs, oil, fry pan, bread for toast, butter, etc. outside to the outdoor kitchen. You light the gas only for the wind to blow it out. And you only notice 10 mins later when the water is still not boiling or the egg is not frying. The wind blows everything about or the flies insist on landing where they shouldn’t … usually on the same spot on your face or in the butter you opened to spread on a slice. Or, the sun is already stinging and the butter begins to melt. So, you pick everything up and climb Mount Everest for the 50^th time that morning to make brekkie inside after all. So what if the van smells like bacon and toast until lunchtime?

By congerdesign from Pixabay 

Oops … can’t set the table, it’s full of stuff. So you pile deconstructed breakfast on the small space available on the countertop. Some items fall into the sink, a knife falls and lands butter side down on the rug 😒 (that’s how you know hubs has already had a sneaky slice) and the food on the counter mingles with last night’s unwashed dishes because the dishwashing liquid was outside, and nope! I’m not stepping out into the pitch dark ... it can wait till morning. Too many spiders abound after dark.  

The bed cover, throw, ornamental pillows, teddy, and more are piled on the table, along with yesterday’s clothing that is still good to go for one more day. (We wear our clothes until we can’t anymore – there’s not that much to choose from anymore, and besides, using water for washing must be planned well ahead.)  

by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay 

You need the table cleared. “Let’s make the bed darl”, you say. Because making the bed is easier if you are two. If you’re one, rest assured, you’re going to have your daily workout! You’ll also come away with a stubbed toe as you make your way around and around and up to the top on your hands and knees to tuck in the top end, after bumping your head on the overhead cupboard.

Aaah, the feeling when the bed is made up. 😍 At least the bedroom is tidy! 

(c) undeserted

And the table is (sort of) clean.

Now to set that unstable table. “Take your hat off the table! And your belt too. Here’s that tool you were looking for.”  It all gets piled onto the bed! “Oh, please put the clean T-shirts on the bed, I’ll pack them away.” You pass it all on to the one closer to the bed because you can’t swap places … that has to be planned too. 😅

“Ah, can you get the dish rack out of the way so I can use the toaster?” (Dish rack goes to the bed.) The kitchen plank gets moved across the sink to make a workspace and finally, you can open the stovetop to make poached eggs. Gotta eat healthy, right?

Exhausted you want to sit down, but there’s no space on the bed, and moving in behind the (unstable) table to sit on the seat is a feat you only execute when you’re ready to sit and actually eat!

(c) undeserted

Breakfast made, coffee made, all you need to do is settle next to each other on the seat … the potato and onion basket is moved from the seat to the bed too, to make space. Coffee is poured! The table gets moved out to allow me to slide into my spot (hubs is seated … waiting for those eggs!) I sit down, oh … the salt and pepper! He’s penned in, so up I get, with all the care in the world not to bump the table or else the coffee goes everywhere. Condiments deposited on the table, I gingerly slide back in keeping a beady eye on the coffee cups. Whew! Success, let’s tuck in.

It’s sourdough toast … hubs gets into it with meaning using his knife. Coffee goes everywhere! Sighing, I slide out again for a cloth to wipe up the mess … 🥴

One of our more successful attempts at breakfast inside.

This is by 8 in the morning … are you tired yet? Shall I continue? No, I thought not. Lol. Welcome to caravan life!

After two months full time in the van, bruises are still the norm. Stubbed toes are regular. Bumps on the head are taken as par for the course. 😅 And do you know what? We are loving this lifestyle.

The ‘Green’ loo

This is an ongoing experience … I’m waiting for the day when we forget to empty the ‘liquids’ bottle (as it is discreetly called in the manual) before bed and use it all night, only to find it overflowing in the morning. 😳😖 (Is it just us? We wake up every 2 – 3 hours to use the loo! 🙄😁) Once so far it has hit the brim … 🤦

Our 'green' loo! (c) undeserted

‍But it is sooo good to have your own toilet in the middle of the night, to not waste precious water in the tanks on a smelly cassette toilet system, and to not have to visit a dump point. “The liquids,” says the manual, “can be diluted and used to fertilise gardens and plants.” These two weeks that we have been parked under trees … suffice to say, we are hoping that we haven’t ‘fertilised’ the trees to death as it were. 😳😅 Either that or the grass is going to grow where it wouldn’t before. 😁 And no… there is no smell from the (compostable) “solids”. 😁

Lights on … windows and blinds shut tight!

Anyone who knows me, knows I need air. Preferable fresh air. Thankfully we have an AC because if we dared to open windows with lights on in the van after dark, we would be inundated. Bugs seem to be able to come in somewhere. The white strip lights above the counters are our favourite to use. We saw someone’s tip to tape yellow tradesman’s tape over the strip lights. The bugs weren’t put off. We put a second layer over and that seemed to slow their appearance. It’s also softer on the eye. 😆

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It’s a sticky business…

To make the van homely, we have put up posters, pictures and wot-nots. But we have had to constantly re-apply stickers, as one after the other they fall off. Seemingly, nothing is prepared to stay put against these composite walls. Once, losing my temper, I decided to take the Gorilla glue and use that. AJ was teaching. It wouldn’t come out of the nozzle, so I screwed the top off and got into it with a toothpick

“Aaaaargh … AJ! Help!”

He jumps up, students are left hanging. He gets to me in the bathroom, where my fingers are firmly glued together! And he bursts out laughing. 🙄 I’m crying out in fear as I have visions of skin giving way. 😱

“What did you think?” he says. “It’s Gorilla glue!” (Said students hear all! 🥴)

I now know what Gorilla glue is. It took 3 days to remove from my fingers. Moral of the story, don’t lose your temper with objects … it ain’t worth it! You’ll come second. (I could hear the students’ laughter through AJ’s earphones as he related the story with glee. 😤😅)

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Hanging something from the ceiling is especially a challenge – the macramé plant holder has landed on the floor 5 times. Once in the dead of night. At the time, half asleep, we didn’t manage to put two and two together, so there went hubs, torch in hand, around the van in the middle of the night. Finding nothing amiss, he was snoring again in two minutes. Not me! I was wide-eyed for the next hour listening for suspects until sleep took over. The next morning, we saw the macramé and plant lying on the floor at the foot end of the bed.

Pretty things = more work

Who says you can’t be surrounded by pretty things because you live in a van? You sure can have pretty décor. But pretty things can’t all be stuck down to secure them for travel days, so they need to be packed up before the van can be towed. It’s so nice to look at special shells and little pot plants. A flower here and a tea towel there. 

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Everything we have as decoration in the van has a special memory attached to a special person or of a place or moment in time. 

From a magnet to a picture, a shell to a photograph. 

A magnet to recall my fav spot in Qatar
when I worked at the museum library.

This is how we have managed to incorporate those near and dear to us, of whom many are so far from us. 😔 To maintain this I’ve had to make sure when packing up the van for travel days, that the special things have their safe spot. “Where?” you ask. “On the bed! With pillows around them.” ☺

You can lose things in a van …

It’s only 17 feet. It only has that much packing space. Trust me, we have managed to mislay things. So much so, that we have had to search the van with a fine comb to find what is lost! Usually, it’s right under our noses … like the firelighter we store in the pouch right by the door so that it can be reached easily from outside. Did we search for the thing! Seriously, how does one forget so easily yet pass by the item day in and day out, without seeing it?

But when something is stored under the bed … it’s missing! Why … because we forget there is storage under the bed. 😂

Storage

Now here’s the challenge, right? An overhead cupboard (2 ft x 1 ft x 1ft) is dedicated to pantry products. The other three (much smaller) cupboards are 1. for cutlery and crockery, 2. for drinking glasses and measuring jugs etc. and 3. for the stick blender, kettle and toaster and flat pack food storage containers. One out of 4 drawers is dedicated to tea and coffee needs. One is set aside for herbs and spices. One for all my cooking utensils (what a messy drawer 😣) and one more ‘drawer’/space (on the floor of the van) that we use to store tinned foods and cartons of soy milk because it has deep space and is right over the axle where heavy things belong. (When you need a tin, you go down on all fours. Yep, all fours! Not always a pretty sight. Getting up again must be carefully planned because you can’t lean on the unstable table! So, bottom in the air, you come up on hands and feet, then slowly lift yourself off the floor, stacking your spinal column as they show in workout videos, and hoping that you will get your body upright. All the while promising yourself that tomorrow, TOMORROW, you’re going to start working out. You knock your head on the table on the way up. You glare at it. Unaffected by the glare, it just sits there, locked into its happy spot. You quickly check that nobody’s glass of whatever was on the table.)  

“Where”, I hear you ask, “do you keep the rest of your groceries? How do you manage?” 

Under the bed! Yep, we sleep on our pantry store. And why is it that whenever anything is needed from the ‘pantry’, the bed is piled high with stuff and is heavier to lift. It’s supposed to be an effortless lift; it has air struts that help with the lift and which keep the bed up in the air. But it’s rather intimidating when you’re on all fours, diving into a container underneath, fully aware that if the struts give way, you’re going to be a squashed bug!

"And your clothing?" Umm ... 😆

Each item rolled up ... a side for me, the other for hubs.
Storage boxes just don't fit.

Under the bed is also where the ironing board and iron lives. And the box of baking utensils. And the TV that we haven't yet used. And it’s where the lithium batteries live. And the inverter. And the DC2DC charger. And all those gadgets are rather imposing … wires everywhere, with little lights flashing and boxes that keep them secure so they can’t budge. 😳😅 When we sleep at night, we pretend they aren’t a mere 20 cm from our bodies, powering away, keeping the van going.

Talking of power …

To our dismay we discovered (by accident) that we needed another lithium battery in the caravan soon because it’s preferable NOT to add a new battery to an old one … so no adding when you think you can afford it, later down the line. If you’re planning to stay full-time in a van, plan your power needs and get the system installed from the start – one that will meet your needs. Professionals can help with the planning. We didn’t consult, we just guessed. Epic fail! Consequently, we’ve had to dig into emergency funds to add a battery. And another battery needs more solar. And the top of the van can’t take more solar… so we’re shopping around for external solar panels. External panels need an additional Anderson plug on the caravan which needs professional installation. 💸

Sigh …. will we ever get to a complete setup?

Then, as if that pain wasn’t enough, we stepped into another power mess. Let me explain … Sandy’s Essentials was planned as a side hustle. Forgetting just how hot it gets in Queensland in summer, all manner of oils, butters, waxes, and essential oils were purchased. All these need to remain cool, preferably at one temperature. 😣 All good, we thought. We housesit in homes with air conditioners. Until we housesat during a heatwave in a house with no air conditioner! It was 38 and 39 during the day. Stinking hot. (AJ annexed the van to teach from … 😅 … I sweltered. Mmmm…. come to think of it, he did quite a few extra prep hours those few days. 😁) We ate lunch in the van for a reprieve! The supply of oils etc. (also in the van) was melting from the heat of the night.  (The essential oils are stored in the fridge, so they were ok.)  

Tackling the problem, we reckoned an external fridge would do the trick. After looking at a bunch of brands, we bought one on sale. Not the best, not the most expensive, a middle-of-the-road type of investment. THEN we realised that it needed its own battery to keep it cool when it’s in the car and not plugged into AC (home) power. THEN, of course, the battery needs to be wired into the car by an auto electrician, so that the car charges it when the engine is on. Then, says the salesman, when the car is not switched on and charging the battery, the battery needs solar panels on top of your vehicle to keep it charged. Huh?! All to keep the fridge cool. Epic fail! 💸💸💸 We walked away with an unplanned major expense – to provide for a side hustle that I haven’t had the brain power to get up and going yet. The panels and battery box system turned out to be more expensive than the fridge. 🙄 Talk about embarrassing. Luckily, hubs can keep his beer in the fridge too. 😆  

🤭

At least the battery box can also power his laptop on days when the van’s power might fade. To cap it all, the fridge and its contents, battery box and extra solar panel, add 60kg to the car. 😣 “The things a man will do for his wife” mutters hubs, as he has airbag suspension installed in the car. (I argue that the car sags because of the weight of his tool bag … anyway, airbag suspension helps. 😂)

About that weight …

Off we went … water tanks full, check! Gas bottles full, check! Petrol tank full, check! Caravan fridge full, check! Everything loaded into the van and the car, as if we were travelling, check! (Including THAT Sandy’s Essentials fridge!)

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It was one of the hottest days of summer. The poor man and his wife from Weigh Check Gympie were tasked with checking whether we were within legal limits. As they darted around with scales and laptop, manoeuvring the van and the car and then both together (with us inside it), we held our breath, sweating bullets, and not because of the heat. Verdict? We were 45 kg overweight in the caravan. But the car could still take another 100 kg. Hallelujah! Off hubs went to remove the huge tool bag that he had placed in the back of the caravan to weigh the back end down and he popped it in the car. (Trust me … the small number of tools he shipped over from Qatar have miraculously multiplied…. I wonder how? 🤔😆) Another re-weigh and we were good to go, with just a few kg to spare in the caravan, but relieved, nonetheless. Now, we need to watch our weight in more ways than one; only one week’s worth of groceries is ever bought, and even then it’s the bare minimum. 😄

Office or a dining area?

When hubs works from the van it’s quite an experience.  At 1 pm the dining table and seat become an office! All the gear gets packed out and he connects to his online classes. We still stand amazed – we use our phones as hotspots for our computers. Our national network’s mobile data package carries all our internet needs. He trains online, and I use my quota to blog, do research, work on admin and more.

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My workspace, you ask? 😂 Here it is …

Made a plan to have a standing desk!

Shower curtain privacy!

Somehow, the constant technical chatter of instruction doesn’t bother me and I’m able to set up my space feeling quite comfy behind the shower curtains that act as a privacy screen. (His laptop camera is only on his face, but I still feel better having my own private space.) At 8 pm, the time when I can no longer function, I take a shower and hop into bed. As long as those curtains are closed it’s as if there were a wall between us. I hit dreamland while hubs is still teaching away. 😊

Towing days need checklists!

We’re still getting used to it all. Each time we tow we tend to forget something. I shouldn’t divulge this, but once it was the ‘liquids’ bottle in the green loo. 😫😆😅 By the time we could stop it was all over the inner space of the toilet – thankfully contained!! Capping the bottle, I took three toilet rolls and chucked them into the space. Locking the van, we sheepishly went on our way. It was something to sort out at the next destination. You can’t be squeamish if you have a composting toilet. Neither forgetful! 😆

by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

The last time we towed, we forgot to clip on the towing mirrors. Halfway through Gympie town, I noticed they weren’t attached. Hubs pulled up at the first place we were able to stop. He hopped out to attach them. I looked up and straight into a traffic camera – and a “Busses only” traffic sign. 😫😂 (Waiting for the ticket.) And that reminds me, those checklists must be made up! We must work with checklists!!!!  

I hope I’ve managed to give you a peek into our full-time living in a van. 😀 It keeps us on the go… keeps us moving and active in more ways than we could have imagined. It’s fun, it’s hard work, and it’s not straightforward. It’s constant adherence to rules and regulations. It requires advance planning, foresight, and constant checking and monitoring of gear. Moving parts need regular attention. Weight and balance are vital. Thankfully hubs has a lot of weight and balance experience from his helicopter career.

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To wrap up ... 

Soon we leave for rural Queensland, where we will housesit – with no pets – just housesit, for three months. We are looking forward to a reprieve from travelling around, packing up and packing down. Still, we wouldn’t want any other life right now. We are happy. We feel content to own only that which can fit into 17 feet. (Apart from winter clothes in storage at Nadya’s house and some special books, we tow what we own.) It’s an uncanny feeling when you stop and think about it. 

But nothing beats that early morning cup of coffee, outside in nature, with the smell of the dew on the grass and the wind rustling through the trees.

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We are acutely aware that our Father’s grace and mercy carry us. We are vulnerable on the roads, vulnerable to wild weather, and reliant upon staying healthy and strong to be able to follow this lifestyle. What the future holds we know not.

Therefore, we appreciate each of you, for your messages and support in prayer. 🙏 We pray for you too.

Thank you for stopping by. Until next time, from Esk, it’s cheerio for now.  🌼

 

DISCLAIMER: No husbands or caravans were harmed during the telling of this story. But fiction it is not.