Introducing Oak Island

We have been living in an RV for 402 days. We have been property owners for 21 days.  We’ve been boondocking on our property for 15 of those days.
We’ve also been boondocking more in the last 2 months than we have the entire time we have been on the road.
What’s the nutshell? We moved into an RV, we putted around FL for 2 months and then we went to Maine for almost 6 months. We came back to FL for Christmas, decided to buy 7.36 acres in North FL and then we hauled off to Louisiana for Mardi Gras. We drank, we ate, we caught beads and reveled in all the glory that is New Orleans. We bounced around Alabama and North FL boondocking, harvest hosting and sleeping in brewery parking lots and national forests until we closed on our property. Now we’re here. Oak Island, our new winter homestead.

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A waffler walks into a bar.

A waffler walks into a bar… well, after they research all the local bars and wonder if they made the right decision the whole way there. Thankfully the bar at least has flights so you can choose 5 different beers instead of committing to just one.

You don’t really want to stay, no
But you don’t really want to go-o
You’re hot then you’re cold
You’re yes then you’re no
You’re in then you’re out
You’re up then you’re down.


 

Katy Perry was talking about me.

 
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Shirtless in Chicago

Laundromats suck.  It’s a major downside of RVing Full-Time.
This morning I grabbed two clean shirts, stuffed them in a backpack and flew to Chicago for a business meeting.
I arrived at the hotel, unpacked and quickly realized that one of my shirts is RUINED. There is a giant discoloration along the neck, down the front and on the sleeve. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Two of the Bear’s work shirts have been ruined in the last month.
We were relatively unscathed in the destroyed clothing department for the first 5 months, but that still doesn’t make it OK. There’s way more to it than clothes being destroyed. Let’s talk about how disgusting public laundromats are, shall we?
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Six Months of RV Living

Today was no different than any other day. I woke up, made coffee, watched some videos about Data Warehousing and did laundry. Well, today was a little different…it was our six month Nomadiversary.
Six months ago today, we packed up what little we owned and we hit the road ready for adventure. We had no idea what we were in for, but we were ready.

 
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Adventure Memoirs of a Vagabond

New York City

I was born in New York. Elmira is a small town on the border of Pennsylvania along the Chemung river. I guess to some that makes me a Yankee. Even though I grew up in rural small town. Some would even call me a Chemunkey. But that’s another story. Let me tell you, a New Yorker, I am not. I’ve been to the city on one other occasion. Pookie and I had a day to spare on a road trip we were on. We stopped in New Jersey on the way to see my mother in Elmira. We were staying at her father’s place, much like we are now and took the train into the city for the day. That is the extent of my experience with NYC. We went to the Central Park Zoo and Central park. We enjoyed The American Museum of Natural History. We ate at the Famous Carnegie Deli where we dined on a 50 dollar corned beef sandwich. Even after all of that I still know very little about city life! So when I tell you these things don’t laugh too loud. For us, it’s this whole other country.
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The RV Effect.

A lot of the time inspiration is fleeting, at least for me. Let’s not even talk about motivation. My interests have always been all or nothing. When something grabs my attention I am all about it. THIS IS MY LIFE! and when it’s gone… meh. So when I find the mood hits me I have to get it started or the moment is gone. Part of me wondered if that was going to be the case with this new lifestyle were living. I asked myself over and over “Do I really want to sell everything and do this?” But you really don’t know if you don’t try so here I am. So Let’s talk about it for a minute. Furthermore in the spirit of keeping my interest in writing going here’s what’s been going on.
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The proof is in the banana bread.

When you watch old-timey television shows, the neighbors share a cup of sugar and fresh baked cookies. They have coffee together and gatherings and everyone knows everyone. It’s the quaint small town existence. Maybe it’s still out there, but it certainly didn’t exist for us.
The Bear and I have lived together in 3 homes. One was for a year, the next for 5 and the last one for 8. The first home we never met any neighbors. The second, we knew one and I fed her cats sometimes when she went away. The last one…a whopping 8 years…we knew 3 of the neighbors. Although we knew them, we never hung out with them. There was never an exchange of cookies or a shared cup of sugar. In no way am I saying that it’s their fault, it’s just as much ours. We went about our daily business…working, paying bills and keeping to ourselves. We did all have a mutual bond though, we hated one of the other neighbors. Think about that though, 14 years…14 years living mere feet from people with nothing but some general chit-chat and a wave. I wonder how many other people live like that. Stuck in their lonely bubble, having to travel out of it to find people with common interests to share a bite to eat with…now that I look back at it, it’s kind of sad.
The reason why I’m bringing this up is because moving into our RV has been a social shellshock.  It hit me last night when Mike & Deb brought over some fresh baked chocolate banana bread for us. It was still warm. This wasn’t the first time, but the time I realized that this is different. This is the way community is supposed to be. We have shared our cinnamon buns and we have had afternoon drinks brought to us. Need a blanket because it’s cold out? Your friendly neighbor is happy to share! In fact, they insist! Seriously…it’s now a battle of who gets to sleep with Deb’s fluffy blankie! It’s been such a different experience for us in the social aspect the last few weeks. It reminds me of a Nick at Nite TV show! In all the years we lived in our bubble houses we were NEVER this social.
The proof is in the banana bread, but it’s been so much more. We have shared late night laughs around the fire and early morning…ok…not so early…brunches. 5pm happy hour is a common occurrence at someone’s house. Sometimes we get together to explore the local area and do cool stuff like giant swamp buggy tours and sometimes we do mundane stuff like go grocery shopping together. When was the last time you went grocery shopping with your neighbor?
In fact, they aren’t just our neighbors…they are our FRIENDS.
 

 
Was it pure luck we ended up in the right place at the right time, or is it always like this?
In our year plus of preparation, we asked other full-timers what it was like out here. Some said it was extremely social and others said it was extremely solitary. Classic case of your mileage may vary. Do you boondock on public lands a lot? Are you in an active RV park? Do you live where there is undesirable weather and you’re cooped up inside all day? All of these things can be factors in how social your RV life is. Maybe we got lucky because our first stop was filled with awesome people and then we all moved together to the next stop! Is it Thousand Trails because is it a network and everyone is generally in the same few places? Is it because we are staying put for 2 weeks at a time and have the time to meet people? Time will tell as our trek north begins and we start to move more often and break away from the people that we have spent the last few weeks with.

The only thing that is constant is Change…and Bandaids.

Have you ever thought about how familiar your environment is?
You live in the same house every day, you travel the same route to your job at the same place. You go to the same gym every day and frequent the same restaurants.  You run by the same park near your house every day and sometimes you stop and sit on the same wooden bench to catch your breath. The bench looks and feels the same every day. You know that you can run your hand along the top of the bench, as you have hundreds of times, and it won’t filet your hand like dead fish.
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