Morning view March 2018I’m sitting on the back bumper of my van, “Arc,” thinking about the past winter and where I am now. I must tell you, it was a winter of much needed healing. Little did I realize the toll the events of last year had on me. I did my best to stay positive minded to face the reality of homelessness and determined turn it into an adventure. However, it is extremely hard to wrap your mind around such an outcome after decades of keeping the wolf from the door. I had to ask myself if I was willing to go the extra mile as I had before or,  am I just tired of the fight? By now you would think years and age would offer up more wisdom. HA!

It may be more truthful to say I opened the door and welcomed that vicious carnivore into my world. We all make choices, some good and others would rather be forgotten. It’s the forgotten choices that end up biting you in the ass just when you least expect them.

As I mentioned before, I spent the winter healing and being thankful for a wonderful friend of many years. When her unexpected invitation arrived I didn’t hesitate. I got back in Arc and headed to Washington. So, for three months we did nothing. Not a damn thing! It was glorious! Through her, my love of beadwork was rekindled and, after too much money being spent, I was back in the swing of life. There are no words for angels that show up exactly when you need them, especially when you don’t even know you do! I’m fortunate to have many such blessings.

So, today I find myself alone once more and in the middle of the wilderness, much too early for the lesser, cold fearing side of myself. But, here I am. I have found the silence of the mountains to be a perfect catalyst, my mind actually begins to work again! Imagine that! Then, when the sun decides to join in, miracles happen!

I hope all of you have a wonderful “safe place” you can trust and allow your mind to travel away into the realms you don’t physically go………..yet. I’ve always said if I were homeless, I’d head to the mountains. Little did I EVER know that would become my reality. Strange, how thankful I am for being here. I’ve been forced to go to the place my soul needs most. How lucky for me! Dare I even whisper it? Manifest destiny??

Now, before you go criticizing yourself for not being courageous enough to follow your soul’s desire, I must be honest, it wasn’t my idea. Nothing to brag about here. It has taken me over two years to accept my place today and it wasn’t romantic! For many years I suspected I was in the midst of depression, tho I didn’t have the luxury of spending time doting on it. Well, let me tell you, if you ignore it, it continues to spiral deeper into the abyss. If that sounds dramatic or like a cliché, sorry, but that is what happens. So, after too many years, I have faced my dragons one at a time and I am triumphing.

When I started writing to all of you, I promised to deliver the goods on the ups and the downs of this life’s new journey. So, this Scorpio woman, who never reveals her secrets, had to spend the winter working up the courage to be that honest. I’ve had discussions with some of you about my fears of telling the down side only to be met with your much appreciated honesty. It really isn’t a story if the truth isn’t told; there must be an arc. We’ve all read fairy tales and waited for the “happily-ever-after” to manifest. (Thank you Uncle Walt!) Truth is, happily-ever-after is unique and has to be determined by each one of us individually. Some of us ride into the sunset and live accordingly, others chose a different path. I’m the latter, as you have realized, no doubt.

Today has been a good day. The sun came out. I got to wash my hair. I got in trouble talking to an awesome high school girl at the library. (Yes, I am a rebel!) And, I’m writing, trying very hard to bare my soul.

I remember the first time I realized what an artist’s work does to the artist. Not something you think about, is it. I was in the middle of still life a drawing class when I realized I was exposing a part of me to total strangers. I have always been overly cautious of doing exactly that. My wonderful instructor chose that moment to step up from behind me, she asked what was going on. I had to look at her and tell her, “I’m not sure I’m ready to allow people to see this much of me.” She smiled and moved on. At the time, I didn’t realize the ramifications of my comment. Many years later, I wonder if just maybe her knowing smile revealed something of her own idiosyncrasies. I hope so. Each time I create work I am proud of, I think of her.

Well, the sun has passed behind the mountain and the temperature has dropped enough for me to climb into Arc and light the heater. I hope this finds each of you warm and cozy, right where you want to be. If not, please message me, no need to go through it alone. Been there, done that. Won’t go there again.  🙂

Until next time, dear Huckleberry Friend, keep the heart fires stoked.


Caught In The Crosshairs!

If you think it is easy to stay off grid and just get on with your daily life, think again. In all my life, I’ve never seen, nor dealt with, so much authority. How can a little ole’ lady be in so many wrong places at the wrong time with in such a short span of time and be innocent of any wrong doing?

Let me take you to the beginning of this authoritarian surplus. I decided to leave our beautiful Olympus camp and return to town and the internet in order to search for the perfect vehicle. I had been staying at a friend’s house when, across the street a family living, illegally, in a camper were being told they have to vacate immediately. It seems, after several months, a neighbor reported their living situation to the police. Not only were they told they had to leave, but  the “guests” of several surrounding properties were told the same. We’re talking some very upset people.

One woman showed up with a gun in search of the person filing the complaint. She had been living in her sister’s back yard for six years and wanted revenge. The neighbor she approached did some double talking to help her realize he wasn’t the culprit so she left looking for the property owner. So far, not to be heard from again. (Fingers crossed)

That is the exact time I bought my 1981 Dodge Jamee, Huck the RV. Now I’m sure if Huck had been a brand new spanking motorhome there would have been no problem. But, because Huck has matured, we are now labeled as suspicious. However, I was not living in the motorhome and it was only parked as to ascertain the proper paperwork before I could hit the road. That didn’t curb the authority patrolling on a daily basis. So, to avoid any issues for my friend, I decided to wait out the time in the woods.

Everything was fine until….yep another set of crosshairs…..Some young person dumped their dirt bike and had to be helicoptered out of the woods. That brought the sheriff to my camp looking for a space large enough to land the flying fortress. Needless to say, he recognized me from an earlier conversation when I had been tenting. His logic was that I was no longer camping because of the motorhome and that meant I was now living in the forest. I tried to tell him I was leaving within the week but he wouldn’t hear it, I had to leave the woods.

So, I moved Huck to BLM land where I plan to leave within the week. Now comes the THIRD time I’m in the crosshairs! Just before dark I could hear shooting up the road from my spot. It didn’t sound like the earlier day’s target practice, more like hunting. Yes, I’m getting nervous because I grew up with hunters and have a good idea that, judging by the time of the day, they had probably been drinking as well. Not to imply all hunters drink, but the group was firing from the road and it was after dusk. Within the hour the “macho men” drove past my camp, rifles hanging out the windows. The next round of shooting happened just a short minute after their passing. Down the road from me is private property with homes, so I imagine the sheriff was called. I’m sure they too were feeling a bit nervous.

The shooting had ceased and I returned to the detective novel on my Kindle, which didn’t need a light on. There I was sitting in the dark when….you guessed it….the sheriff pulls up and shines his search light through Huck’s windows. Before I could react, he turned on his flashing lights and pulled out. Back on the radar! I’ll let you know if/when he returns.

I’m now playing cat and mouse with the local sheriff department due to the inept paperwork passing between my doctor’s office and the insurance company and sitting in no-man’s land. I had planned on being long gone over a month ago, but the doc just added another three weeks to my detention before he will release me. That will surpass any allowable time on BLM land as well as the forestry department.

Trying to save every dime possible to put toward “Cowgirl Up” and “Huckleberry Ramblings,” web series isn’t as easy as it would appear. What’s a girl to do?

Pushing forward, my Huckleberry Friends, the ups and downs of this journey are getting interesting. Next time I’ll have to tell you about some of the people I’ve met in the woods. You will be shaking your heads, I promise.

Until then,

Happy Trails.

Off Grid Adventures

Camp 200 Wagner

Huck in Siskiyou National Forest

There is a difference between being alone to enjoy your privacy and being isolated. I’d been parked in the Rogue-Siskiyou National Forest for over a week without internet, power, water, and humans. On the sixth day, a friend pulled up to Huck the RV to see how I was fairing. It takes a special person to drive all the way out here to be sure I’m doing well. She then gave me a ride into town to see about getting my generator fixed and to pick up my car.

It was 2 days too late to save the perishable groceries but just in time to get my Kindle charged! Reading material first! Food is secondary! With nothing to read, I was going batty. I’ve re-read both 2010 copies of Cowboy and Indians, for the fourth time and anything else that had text.

Got the generator running right and I was returning to Huck the RV when I stumbled into an adventure I hadn’t planned. On one of the many blind curves on the logging road leading to my camp, a young man had lost control of his car and gone nose first into the ditch. I was the first to arrive and stopped to see what I could do to help. After many feeble attempts at getting the car back where it belonged and some discussion, I decided to return to an area where placing a call was possible. I instructed him to walk to the head of the s-curve to warn approaching traffic. My main concern was the blind curve and the logging trucks that would be on their final run of the day.

In the meantime, I was so concerned about the potential of a bigger development, I turned a corner too fast and my generator fell over spewing gas into the trunk of my car. So much for getting my Kindle charged! A day and a half later, and my generator is still flooded.

Seems I lack the magic of generator cooperation.

Anyway, back to the car predictment. I retraced my trail until I could see I had cell coverage and placed his call for help. Then, back I went. Upon arriving at his car, he was no where to be found. He had left the car sitting right where it landed with nothing to warn the oncoming travelers. So, I forged ahead, stopping any traffic to tell them of the problem at mile 5 1/2. I could only pray the rest of the travelers drive as slow as I do on that road and was relieved to learn the logging was done for the day.

Back at camp, not to be outdone by the bad luck gremlins, I pulled out a drawing I’ve been meaning to finish. Ah ha! Something to do to maintain my sanity. Maybe tomorrow the generator will be dry enough to get back to work.

Before boredom forced me to return to my art, I had decided to look for the perfect location to build my solar shower room. I tripped happily through the woods looking for a tree with just the right angle and strength to hold the shower and bungie

Bear Markings

Signs of Bear!

corded tarps. I spotted it! But, (there’s always a but) when I stepped closer, I realized the markings on the side of the tree were from a bear and they weren’t very old. Now that will wake up anyone to reality. I made an immediate executive decision, I will do my showering IN Huck the RV.

After being on the mountain for a couple of days, I decided to relocate Huck closer to water. It takes me about forty-five minutes to walk to the spring and return with a full tub. However, after seeing the bear markings, I believe I’ll be taking my car to the spring from now on.

Water Wagon

Water Wagon

It will be another week before I have to go to town. By then I hope to have a plan on where I’m going next. North to Alaska? Or south to Nevada or Arizona? Winter is fast approaching and Huck needs new windows before the cold sets in.

Whose idea was this insanity anyway????  Well, Huckleberry Friends, as soon as I know where I’m going, you will be the first to know.

Until then, Happy trails.

Leaving Olympus

Upon my return to the woods, I found my new camp mate was still maintaining the homeland. Yes! The Universe has sent me a compadre, knowing I’m probably not quite ready to go solo. Then a second blessing, a dear friend decided to go camping and ended up going us. Three women headed to the woods to camp alone and ended up together. What are the odds?

We’ve been here about three days now and we have created the most amazing sheepherder like campsite. We have a shower, latrine, kitchen complete with spice rack, water purifier, a guest room, three bedrooms, and three hammocks. Pretty darn cool, if I do say so myself.

The daily regime begins with my gassing up the generator, packing it through camp and pulling the ripcord until it buzzes into action, keeping the meat cooler busy.  I then start the coffee, if it hasn’t already been started by one of the others. Without conversation each of us has fallen into a waltz of sorts. One will begin breakfast, another will fill the water purifier, another will gather wood and start the morning fire.

Each day brings an addition to the domesticity of our little world now named, Olympus. The journey from Cubby Hole to Olympus has been amazing.

Camp Olympus July 2017

Camp Olympus

Neighboring camp mates wander in to visit during the early evening. A fire is lit and beverages served. Depending on the outcome of the daily activities, dinner may be still in progress. Whatever the status, life is slow and simple. Strangers enter Olympus, become kindred spirits, and leave as friends.

The fire pit has been remodeled from the usual circle of rocks by incorporating two side alcoves that will hold the hot cinders and allow for a grill to be placed above, thereby eliminating the necessity for cooking over the fire and allow for better heat control. The cold ashes are dug up and redeposited at the latrine for future use. We have become quite the forest dwellers. First rule is to keep the place clean and leave it cleaner that we found it.

I am constantly overwhelmed and humbled with the reality I am now living. Even my writing is getting better and my sense of humor is returning. With only two weeks in the woods, I can only imagine the changes in store for me as the weeks turn into months.

Our mountain community is in constant flux. New members will be added and others will exit. Sometimes the Sheriff is the cause of the latest change, which happens fast. There is a 14 day limit and it is adhered to, bringing on rounds of sad goodbyes.

Olympus has now met the deadline, all the sniveling we could muster didn’t stop time and we had to break camp. Each of us went our own way with plans to meet up again in a week or so. I had no pending time table so I was the last out of camp. Once I had my life re-inserted into the Honda, I expected to be melancholy but that didn’t happen. Instead, I left smiling, knowing I had just experienced the first adventure of many, many more to come.

Now I’m off to find a truck, the sweet little Honda is being overworked and needs a good cleaning. Fingers crossed, when we come together again, I’ll have the first step toward my mobile cabin completed.

I’ll let you know the second I find my truck! Until then, my Huckleberry Friends, keep a happy trail.

Oh The Choices We Make


Let me first stipulate that I have choices other than to be homeless. Even knowing that, it is very difficult. In no way do I want to simplify the experiences the homeless endure every waking moment. Having said that, I tend to forget that bit of reality at times when I’ve been “in the woods or one the road” without human companionship for too long.

When I first decided to hit the road to gather stories of survival, my anthropological self knew I couldn’t simply come into various lives then leave. To confiscate their painful reality in quick glimpses and present them as truth does everyone a disservice. Every story has degrees of beginning, middle, and end, until the very end. I would be nothing more than yet another thief if I approached this effort from an ivory tower, untouchable, making them “other” while keeping a safe distance. That would be the final insult.

Limited income presented me with two choices, pay rent and survive or, live on the road and create film. Well, Huckleberry Ramblings came from those choices and as you know, I chose the road.

One of the first stories took place yesterday morning when I had coffee with a wonderful woman who had been homeless. Her honesty was humbling, to say the least. Sharing pulls pain from deep within and forces the teller to relive those dark memories. For an outsider, such as myself, it weighs heavy on your heart when there is nothing more to be done but to bear witness and give them a voice that will be heard.

Today I’m in my favorite go-to campsite I’ve named, The Cubby-hole. It’s deep in the Oregon forest and very isolated. I ended up here after driving 250 miles looking for a spot only to find everything full. (Note to self: Make better plans for holiday weekends! ) Lucky for me, I have the Cubby-hole to fall back on. However, as I was searching, I passed two different people pushing shopping carts with all their belongings along a very hot sidewalk. As always, I hoped the Universe would grant them some relief and I moved on. As the day wore on and I still had no place to land, I couldn’t help but compare my search to those pushing shopping-carts around all day looking for a place to land, hoping they had the luxury of their own, Cubby-hole.

As usual, I forgot to turn off my headlights when I parked at Cubby-hole. That put me in the middle of nowhere with a dead battery and no way out. Well, not really, while in Nevada an angel was sent to insure my safety. Without a word to me, he purchased a Yahama 1000 generator for my travels, to that he added car battery charger cables. (As though he knew me or something.) I naturally had the hood of my car up and was checking the cables when a black car with tinted windows pulled in to my camp, as though it belonged there. I stepped forward to see if I could be of help. You can imagine my amazement when another angel, a very tanned beauty, stepped out to see if I needed help. She had seen the hood up. Another single woman on her own adventure. That kind of stuff doesn’t just happen. After five hours and a tank of gas, about .5 gal, my car started just like a champ! Thank you Universe, I know you’re thinking of me.

Until next time, Happy Trails my Huckleberry Friends.


Indecision Is My Worst Enemy

Indecision is my worst enemy, without a doubt! Whenever I’m upset it is always over a decision I have to make. Finance always plays the antagonist that never seems to rest while the heart pushes me onward with constant acceleration.

I loaded the last bit of insanity into the storage shed and I’ve hit the road! Still no skoolie but I’m not letting that put a damper on things I’ve got some people to meet and some work to get done.

North Shore camp #1First destination ws the Lassen National Forest and for the first time I stopped and got to know the area a bit. The norm is to drive straight through to Nevada, barely noticing the terrain. This time I drove into the town of McCloud. I was amazed at what I’ve been driving past for so many years. I will definitely be spending more time there in the future.

Next stop is to find the campsite and pitch my tent. First lesson: when you have no navigator, make a better map! I never did find my destination but, traveling down the road I spotted a campground sign and took the turn. I drove for a couple of miles into the wilderness then turned at the North Shore Camp on Lake Britton. Arriving at the information board, I learned I simply had to fill out the registration card, write a check, pick my spot, and drop it in the box. Sweet!

The adventure got even sweeter when the camp host introduced himself and advised me as to the better camp spots. Dennis and his wife, Gwen, were great hosts.

It is amazing how traveling alone will change your perspective. With no deadlines or expectancies, life gets much easier. It was because of the hosts, I decided to stay a second night. Without a doubt, I will stay there again.

Second lesson: pay attention to where the sun is. My very first morning of unbridled freedom, I decided to kickback, drink my coffee and read. Heaven right? Not necessarily. After an hour or so, I realized, all too late, my feet were in the direct sun. Well, there went the shoes for the next three days.

The next two weeks were spent at a dear friends house in Fallon, Nevada. I know what you’re thinking, “Two weeks!” Then theres a partial quote about when guests need to leave after three days. Well, in my defense, that was my plan. However, when you have such wonderful hosts that tell you you’re staying, you bend the rules.

So now I get to the part about indecision. I’ve returned to Ashland and I’m housesitting through July. So it is decision time. Do I head north for the winter or south? The Universe hasn’t seen fit to accommodate my request for ample funds so, I won’t have my bus anytime soon. Heading south would appear to be the warmest decision. Either way, I have to find better accommodations than my pup tent. Hey Universe! Are you listening??

While the cosmic financal problems gets tossed around, I’ll have to tell you about the hitchhiker I acquired somewhere along the way. I’m sure it’s a he because a she would never have eaten my favorite pair of black heels!! SHE would have known that is an instant death sentence!

I began to suspect I wasn’t alone when I cleaned out the trunk to reorganize the camping gear and found a roll of paper towels had been chewed on. A soap filled roll of paper towels, mind you. Then I found the nest in the back of the trunk. I cleaned like a crazy woman and found no further trace so decided he was gone. That night I slept in the car because my survival instincts said sleeping in a pup tent in cougar country wouldn’t be the brightest idea I’ve had.

Once I landed in Ashland, it was time to reconnoiter the over supply of dishes. So, out came everything. That’s when I found my shoes. Yes, the war is on! Sure enough, the uninvited guest was still in the car. As of this moment, I have the second baited mouse trap sitting in my back seat. (See item 2) I don’t like killing anything but this has to end. I’ve done everything possible to leave an exit for the critter and he has chosen to say, “No thanks. The goodies here are juuuust right.” We will see about that!

All I can say right now is that the night I slept in the car would have had a different outcome if I had discovered the wildlife was IN the car!

I’ll let you know who won the battle next time. Right now I have a trap to check.

Looking Around the BendUntil then, Here’s looking around the bend, Happy Trails my Huckleberry Friend.

Ode To The Hand Cart

We have finally reached the end of THE move. THE final move. THE horrific move. THE killer move. As I’ve said before, minimizing your life isn’t for sissies, especially when you try to do it all at once! Lesson learned, plan ahead and take small bites as to protect your sanity and your life!

Yes, I know, it does sound a bit dramatic, let me assure you it was and still is. Healing takes its own time, I’ve found no way to rush that part of the process.

Guess I should explain my present frame of mind by starting at the first meeting of the murderous hand cart.

I had parked the moving truck at the gate and was climbing out when an angel, cleverly disguised as a neighbor, crossed the street to see if I wanted his help. Believe me, moving makes us all humble, so of course I took him up on his offer. Immediately he turned to retrieve his hand cart, his very durable red hand cart.

Soon it was late afternoon and the truck was impeccably loaded when my helper finally called it a day. As a considerate thought he left the hand cart with me, trusting me to know how to handle it. I had no doubts as to my own expertise. However, he didn’t warn me about the curse!

YES! That is what I said, the durable red hand cart is cursed. I have sore or maybe even slightly fractured ribs to prove it. Now I’ve always prided myself in my ingenuity and capability to get a job done. After all, it takes just a bit of leverage and the job is made much easier. Leverage, that’s the secret. So…….

I woke the next morning with a solution for loading an extremely heavy object into the pick up bed. I would simply wheel the load to the tailgate, lean the hand cart on the tail gate and slide the load up to gate level then shove it onto the bed. Brilliant! I started pushing and shoving the load up the “ramp.” …….Once I landed, a good foot or more away, all I could do was stay on the ground holding my head and trying to decide whether or not I would live, or if I even want to. Once I worked up enough courage to examine my hand it was indeed covered with blood. Lots of blood. It took me about ten minutes to navigate the mental haze to realize my mistake. I had left something out of the equation.

I have always been strong for my size, so it didn’t occur to me that the load was too heavy for me to even push up the ramp. At some point the load slid back down the ramp dropped onto the foot of the hand cart which in turn launched the top of the cart to fly forward and connect with my head. My eyes instantly rolled back as I worked very hard to control the law of physics and lost.

Thank heavens my ER nurse landlady was en route so I continued working figuring if it was serious she would send me to the ER. Upon her arrival, we both ruled I would live without the hospital visit. So, the work continued.

Now I wish I could tell you I became cautious of the durable red hand cart after that misadventure, but…

The next day I had another very large heavy load. BUT, I had a helper! No problem! We were diligent at getting the right tipping angle as down the driveway we went. Or at least that is what I saw in my mind just before that murderous apparatus struck again. Just as I pushed the cart into action it appeared to me the load was descending and would have landed on my helper. So, I released my hold and reached for the load as to stop the downward motion. Upon doing that, the cart hooked under my ribs and lifted me off the ground. Then in mental slow motion, I was launched once again. I’m still not sure how high into the universe I ascended, but by mustering all my skill, this time I managed to land on my feet. Who said all those dancing years wouldn’t pay off? Ha!

So today, a week later, I’m mending. Ribs still hurt when I laugh but the exodus has come to an end and I will survive! Let my story be a warning to all who venture into a new lifestyle. Plan ahead and take baby steps!

What will happen next? What does the all-knowing Universe have ready for me? I have a couple more weeks of recuperation to face those questions then I’ll be off and running again.

Until next time dear Huckleberry Friend, hold good thoughts and I’ll be wishing you happy trails.

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What Was The Universe Thinking?

As promised this journey will contain ups as well as downs. I may have reached my first down.

Moving is stressful, that we all know, and it’s expensive. As a somewhat retired soul, I survive on a set income. No pity party, millions do and it’s not easy. However, I’ve accepted the facts and I’m dealing with them.

So please tell me what the Universe was thinking in giving my poor little Harley pneumonia and some horrible bacterial intestinal infection? Poor guy looks at me as though he just wants to die. So off to the vets we go. Concerned is putting it mildly, especially on the second visit when the doctor says, “Well, he made it through the night, that’s a good sign.” OKAY, stress level blew up the richter scale!

Yesterday was the umpteenth trip to the vets, a wonderful vet, by the way. Poor trouper, has to be hand fed every hour. So much for the vacancy deadline. No sleep and not enough packing will soon land the both of us in intensive care and bankruptcy.

I just have to get through the month, everything will be free sailing then. Riiiiight.

Today EVERYTHING will be gone, either to recycling, charity, or storage. What a feeling! Never again will I have to go through the burden of moving all that crap again. I know the idea sounds a bit daunting and possibly terrifying. After all, you have collected all that stuff for many years and it all holds memories. However, the relief of owning less is invigorating. I’m actually having fun releasing and sending all that off. Trust me, begin with small removals and watch it grow. You can thank me later.

Just imagine for a moment, sitting on a beach or a mountain top knowing you don’t have to be home by 10 to take care of the house or yard. You can stay there as long as you want and when you’re ready, simply pick up and move to a new location with another great view. That has to be good for the soul, what could be better? I’ll let you know, asap.

Somewhere in the juggling event of the century, known as my life, I’ve been looking for my ultimate bus and collecting designer ideas for the interior. Several have passed through, with no luck. Thank you Universe! So, looks like the great northwest campgrounds will be my new location until I find my one and only.

The ups and downs of Huckleberry Ramblings will continue, hopefully with more of the ups than the downs. Once this move is history, the fun will begin. Keep the faith.

Right now it is feeding time for the critter.

Until next time, Harley and I bid you happy trails.


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I’ve Become a Circus Act!

Juggling! That’s what I’m doing, juggling. It’s amazing how many things a person can keep in the air at one time. Along with the downsizing, sorting, packing, living, breathing, dog feeding, menu planning, I’ve added…………….. CDL School.

BRILLIANT!!  I didn’t have enough to keep me busy.

Let me explain my rational. I’ve been shopping for a school bus, right? Being the research addict I am, I decided I better learn how to drive a school bus.  (Seems logical) So, I figured if that is what I’m going to do, I need to go to the best source. School Bus School!  I’ve just wrapped up my classes and next week I will be going through the study and test taking the DMV insists on. I don’t need a CDL as long as my bus isn’t used commercially. However, I’m thinking once I have my license, I can work anywhere as long as I meet the state’s qualifications. A gal never knows when that added paycheck could come in handy, right?

Now, let me tell you something about driving a school bus professionally. As a parent or grandparent, you need to immediately go to the bus stop with your tyke and hug that driver! Tell them how much they are appreciated! I’ve been scared I would get a job a few times in my life, but this one just may be the most terrifying of them all.

The responsibility those drivers deal with every day then return to do it again, makes them saints in my book. They are trained to go above and beyond human abilities to keep our children safe. I could go on for hours on the training, just suffice to say, they are an under appreciated professional group of amazing people. Will I get to join them? That remains to be seen. You will be the first to know the outcome.

I may have found my bus, although it is much bigger than I planned. Do I really want to drive a 40 foot bus across the nation? Do I want to go through the months of work it takes to convert a bus that size? My head hurts from all the information I’ve gathered and I’m still no closer to making that decision. HELP! Just google school bus conversions on YouTube and you will get a look at what I mean. My favorite video master so far is Steampunk Steve and his Old Thyme Skoolie series. If your inclined, check it out, he’s awesome. Then you can join me while doing your own conversion. Now that’s a plan!

Well, the move is about to come to a close and the next part of the adventure will begin. On May 8th, to be exact. I’ll be hitting the road, destination unknown at this time. If I haven’t found my bus and a parking location by then, I’m going to be camping in a few on our northwest campsites. That will give me the opportunity to give some insights as to which sites are welcoming to skoolies and which aren’t. All of which I will be posting and filming.

Not to worry, I won’t be posting my location at the time I’m there. Safety and security are always a first consideration. So, until next time, my Huckleberry Friends, stay tuned, you never know what I’m going to do next because I don’t even know that answer. Be sure to follow my Huckleberry Rambler page on Facebook because I will begin live streaming once I’m on the road.

Happy Trails

The Quest Goes On, The Quest Goes On…

Downsizing is an overwhelming job! I’m just grateful I haven’t lived in one place for 30 or 40 years. Man! What a job. However, yesterday I was blessed with volunteer help and great company. After all it isn’t often the help takes you to lunch and forces you to drink great beer!

The best helper for an artist is another artist. (Devilish grin here) I’ve done my duty, passing on many treasures to a new and deserving home. Now to figure out what to do with all my student artwork. Throw away, or keep it hidden until I’m dead and drive up the price? Yeah, there’s a plan. Too any decisions for my over addled brain today.

Well, I finally bit the bullet and gave my vacating notice only to learn, my lovely landlady was in the midst of putting the property on the market. So, I would have had to move anyway. Isn’t the Universe an amazing thing? Several weeks ago I mentioned to a friend that I felt I was being told it’s time to go, and indeed I was.  (Deep philosophical pause.)

Go where tho? It’s amazing how many possibilities are presenting themselves to someone that doesn’t have to worry about rent or a mortgage. So far my greatest realization is, Wine Across America! How about that! Or, I could set up Craft America and teach craft projects at retirement locations. You see what I’m getting at here? There’s no end to ideas.

Of course,  film is my top project. I’m looking forward to continuing a documentary about women ranchers, Cowgirl Up, to share the stories of how they are mavericks living outside the box of socially constructed femininity. Also, starting up Huckleberry Ramblings: the Film, is pretty exciting. I’m already lining up stories from single mothers that can’t afford to live a conventional lifestyle and have taken to the road to survive. More stories will come from our wonderful seniors who can no longer afford to keep their homes, or have already lost them.

There’s so much happening out there in the “real world” being overlooked while we struggle to hang on to our own lifestyle, lest we fail. Maybe the more correct name for my project should be, Grapes of Wrath 2017.

I’m still not sure where this journey is going to take me, I’ve decided to let the Universe present options. So far, so good. Like today, for example, I’m off to look at my first bus conversion for Huckleberry Ramblings production bus. Fingers crossed it will be exactly what I’ve been looking for.

That’s probably all the ramblings you have time for, so….

Until we meet again, my Huckleberry Friends, Happy Trails….