Dry Run

Well, after months of renovations by Jacob, including removing siding, rebuilding the frame, insulating, replacing siding, rebuilding the bed/couch, turning the dinette into custom baby beds, replacing hardware and much more, our little home away from home is nearly complete. Soon I will make us some curtains, something I realized we were in need of on Sunday morning at the campground, when I didn’t feel so comfortable drinking coffee in my underwear.
The plan was to take the HI-lo on a short weekend trip, so we could get a taste of what the road would feel like, and have time to fix any kinks that we might find in our plan. The first kink turned out to be planning camping stops. The place we found online in Monteagle looked perfect on the website. Shaded parking spots, a stocked pond, serene countryside. My brother Daniel and his rockin’ wife Jenny were going to meet us there. They live in Knoxville, and we had been wanting to get together. We figured Monteagle was an equal drive for both, so that became the plan.
It takes a lot of time to get out the door with all 5 of us Crawfords to visit Grannie and Paw-Paw for the afternoon, let alone going away overnight. Even though I had done the majority of packing up the previous evening, it still took us longer than we planned to get in the truck and be on our way.
Daniel and Jenny arrived at the RV Park before us, and I received a hushed, nervous call from them when we were almost 2 hours away.
“Are you guys almost here?” I could barely hear him.
“We have, like an hour and 45 minutes, are you there already?”
He paused.
“Yeah, uh, it sort of looks like it’s just some dude’s backyard.”
And that‘s what it turned out to be, pretty much, and that might have been acceptable. But apparently this guy was not honest about the condition of the place. The cabin he had reserved for them didn’t even have mattresses, and there were broken down RV’s everywhere, but not a paying camper in sight. Daniel said the final straw was the foam mannequin’s head by the guy’s back door with a red joker grin painted on it’s face. He was just too creeped out by the whole thing. They left, saying they would be back, even going so far as to pay the man for the night, even though they had no intention of returning.
Now, I felt bad, because I was the one who had sent them there. So lesson #1 of this experience proved to be : Use the campground guidebook that I paid 30 bucks for on Amazon, and not some site on the internet that could turn out to be the last anyone hears of us.....

So we adjourned to a KOA in Manchester. Not as far as we had planned to go, but far enough to get the basic idea. We pulled in and it was very clear that not only did we have the most people in our camper (not counting Daniel and Jenny, who rented a mini cabin), but we had the smallest one there, at around 90 square feet. Some of these rigs were enormous! Bigger than my house!

  I like our cozy little trailer though, with it’s chili pepper lights around the awning, and the charcoal grill on the picnic table. It’s adorable to me.

We had arrived mid day, and agreed that the only thing we really wanted to do was spend time together, so we hung out. Cloe played on the playground, which to her delight, turned out to have a playhouse with a play kitchen. The whole time we were there she was trying to get someone to take her to the kitchen. She soon found that Uncle Dan was an easy target for her requests.

It was wonderful to see how happy she was to go with him and Jenny, and how much they have connected with her, even though they live in Knoxville.

For dinner, we pulled out some local pork ribs that we had cooked in the crockpot the day before, and Jacob fired up the grill. They were so tender, you could literally pull the bones out of them. After the kids went to bed, Jenny soon faded, and then there were 3. I’m not sure how late we stayed up, out under the awning.  Daniel had brought a good selection of beer. He loves to homebrew, but didn’t have a batch ready. What he did bring was a treat that I had not yet tried, by Dogfish Head, called Worldwide Stout. It’s 18 percent alcohol, so he and I split one and boy, I haven’t felt that warm and fuzzy since before I had the twins. It was a mellow buzz. I’m over the whole getting wasted phase of my life. Nah, we just sat and talked and reminisced. Spun our tales over a fire and a few good sips of the strongest beer I have ever tasted. Later that night, after Daniel had retired to the cabin, and we had gone to bed, a storm rolled in, and we learned the lesson that in windy weather, the awning becomes a sail! Jacob went out in the middle of the night and took it down, and there was no more rocking about, only the sound of the rain on the roof. It stayed dry as a drum in there, and perfectly warm.
 One bonus of camper living, is that it majorly reduces housework. When you only have one set of dishes for each person, one cup, and one pan, dinner cleanup is a breeze. When you only have 2 changes of clothes for adults, and 4 for kids, and are doing your next day’s clothes and diapers as a part of your morning family ritual, as we plan to, the laundry doesn’t pile up as it has here. Baskets upon baskets of the never ending chores are no more! Or at least reduced to a less menacing scale.

Also, at night, having all the kids so close is great. If one needs something, I am literally right there. And getting up to pee? As simple as rolling over and stepping into the tiny bathroom. In the morning, I fed the babies in the bed, while Cloe played and Jacob made our lattes at the counter. We were all within reach of each other. Maybe it will get old, or start to feel cramped after awhile, but so far, so good.

Another thing I learned was that I have to take my camera out for these moments! I slacked, but luckily Jenny came through with some great shots.
Now we are home again, and I sort of miss the camper. This house, only 900 square feet, feels like an echoing mansion. Soon enough we will be on our way, though, so I guess I’ll just sit tight,  and enjoy the space.

Waking up

The past couple of days, I have felt spring approaching faster than I expected. With no garden to plan for the summer, I hardly know what to do on these days when it seems like a crime to be indoors.
St Patricks day this year was my first in 6 that I didn’t spend working down at McCreary’s Irish Pub. Instead, I stayed home, and our good friends and neighbors, Matthew and Allison Neal came over. They own and operate Arugula’s star farm in Bethel, just south of Leipers Fork/Hillsboro, on Leipers Creek Road. My big ambitious idea was to find a grassfed brisket and make my own corned beef! Unfortunately for me, I declared this intention before actually researching the recipe. Much to my chagrin and embarrasment, I found it took 3 weeks to cure in the brine. What saved me were the eggs I had picked up at Puckett's. They come from Summertown. Two quiches and a cobbler later, with the crust expertly made by Jacob, we had a stand in. Allison brought fresh baby arugula and spinach greens from her garden, tossed in some sort of heavenly vinaigrette, with soft boiled eggs from her very own hens. I had at least 3 helpings. Matthew left me with an organic Hefe-wiezen called Pinkus. Jacob doesn't care for alcohol, but I like to have a good beer. I’m drinking it now, and am sad to see that it is almost gone. If you are looking for sustainably grown, organic, top of the line produce, you should go to their website http://www.arugulasstarfarm.com/
For the past 2 days we have gotten out and walked down to the Trace, where the buttercups come up. With the babies on our backs, and Cloe in the jogging stroller, I feel like we could walk anywhere. I love the open space and the freedom it suggests. I am scared, but ready for this trip. Well, ready to be ready---er---getting ready. I must whittle us down to what we need to take with us. I feel a yard sale coming on.....stay tuned :)

Karma Kitchen

This house has ghosts, and they love to cook. I can sense them beside me at the counter, adding a bit of this and that. I can hear them whisper instructions, and feel them guide my hand when I measure out ingredients. They are undoubtedly an asset. Never in my life have I concocted such wonderful, savory meals. Never has a loaf risen so obligingly, a roux browned so perfectly, as in this kitchen.
Incidentally, they also love children. When Cloe was the only child here, she would run and laugh and play with her imaginary friends. Now with the babies, it feels like a protective force here. I feel very safe with them in this house. Yesterday, Ruby and Wyatt started laughing and smiling at the wall. It was either the lamp, or something else I wasn’t seeing. It doesn’t frighten me. No more than the random whiffs of smoked country sausage that fill the air every now and again.
So our journey starts here, in the Karma kitchen, which is why I am naming this blog exactly that. In less than two months we will leave these ghosts, and embark on what some may call a foolhardy adventure. Just us 5 Crawfords (6, including Enzo, Jacob’s black lab mix Alaskan love child), a camper, a 4 Runner, and what few possessions we will need for the journey.
The coming weeks will be filled with list making, dry runs, and last minute revisions. Jacob has been preparing the camper, and the truck, while I try to incorporate day to day chores into my own prep. For instance, I want to use cloth diapers the whole trip, and that requires not only buying a tabletop hand washer, but also learning how to use it well. So what I need to do is order one, and use it here like I would on the road. That way, I will know what I am getting into. I tend to procrastinate, so this preparation stuff is going to be a good exercise in do-it-nowism.
Hopefully, this blog will allow me an opportunity to think aloud. If I can get it down here, the rest of me should soon follow. It’s like mapping it out for myself. Once we get on the road, I will be able to reflect here, and share the memories that we will undoubtedly be making.
When we return this Fall to our little country home, and it’s haunted kitchen, I imagine I will be very happy to arrive. I will be more than thrilled to spend another winter cozied up to the wood stove with my family, waiting for spring. Until then, let restlessness rule!