Aaaaaand... a bump in the road

Sooooo....
That new drivetrain? The one that came out of the same vehicle we have basically? Yeah. Won't fit. The transmission is 3 inches longer, and the bolt pattern is different. Jim took copious pictures, and took those with him when he went to look at the drivetrain, to guard against just such an event. But, there you have it. When they're sitting side by side, and a guy has a tape measure in hand, things are much more tangible.

Now, interestingly enough, it seems that getting this old thing, and following the signs to the parts to get it put together has led us to a much better vehicle.
Jim picked up an engine stand Thursday from a guy close by us. He and his fiance are selling everything and moving to Arizona. He's got a Chevy RV sitting in the yard. It belonged to his parents, it's in great shape, 75,000 original miles, and he wants $1800 for it. We're going to put this RV we have up for sale, along with the engine and transmission, and buy that one.
So, while Jim was kind of feeling defeated and frustrated by this turn of events, it occurred to us that, well, if he hadn't gone to get the stand, he wouldn't have met this guy, or found this vehicle. It's not on craigslist, it doesn't have a For Sale sign, nothing. We literally wouldn't have ever found it if we hadn't gotten the one we have. So, this was all maybe just a test to see how dedicated we are to this whole notion. I guess we pass muster!

In other news...
An entire sweater for a tall scrawny young man is almost done. I think it's long enough finally. We'll see I guess. I know the arm is long enough, because it's long enough for his dad. I've lengthened the body twice now. It's 24 inches from the back of the neck to the hem. I'll have to go corner him and shove it over his head again.

I've finished a fun gift for a lovely young woman who will be all growed up offishul-like sometime in the next week or so here. She's about to move into a little house with her adored boyfriend, so I thought a fun wallhanging would be appreciated. I hope Andy likes unicorns.

I'm going to have to come up with a couple more things though. 21 is kind of a significant birthday from what I'm told. And of course she specifically requested Bar Money. How's $21 bucks sound, kid? HA! Like she's going to have to buy her own drinks... I guess point more being she can.


Also...
Spring! Happy Equinox out there, folks! Sadly, I missed the supermoon last night, but man oh man! Spring has come to western Michigan! It is raining cats and dogs today, all the snow will be washed away by morning, and there are crocuses blooming! Rilo got out for the first loooong walk this past week, and was that little doggie-girl ever excited to see her leash! Thought she might take the whole door down, she was in such a hurry!

Connor continues to do wild and woolly things, never ceasing to amaze. He got new shoes this week, as it is now sneaker weather again. Fastest shoe shopping trip evah! Went to Target, he spotted 'THE shoes' immediately; Spiderman, with light-up webs on the side! We discovered that he wears a size 12 (!) now, which means he got them on the big guy side of the aisle, rather than the little guy side. This was Tuesday. Wednesday morning he leapt from bed, called out, "C'mon, Gramma! Let's get me to school!" He was dressed and downstairs, in those shoes, before I was fully conscious. Then, of all crazy, unexpected things, he is brushing his own hair!! Big guy shoes turned him into a really big guy, at least for one morning. LOL! He was earnin' some preschool street cred with those babies, lemme tell you! Huh-larious!!! Another awesome step forward is his interest and ability to make his own fruit salad. Cuttin' up strawberries and bananas... he was so impressed to show that skill off to Ellie and Amber, young lady friends of 6 and almost 8 who came to dinner last night. While waiting for the lame grown-ups to quit yakking and order some pizza already! he proudly cut a lovely bowl of strawberries for each of them. What a nifty guy! Now, if he'd just stop filling up my camera memory with pictures of his butt...

 Crafty goodness continues unabated. Working on some flowers, crocheted from various and sundry material. I like ribbon! It is shiny, and it doesn't split when crocheting! But... it comes in such little spools! I have a ribbon sunflower almost done, but no more bright yellow. I'm out, and, sadly JoAnn is out too. I did get the center completed, so yay for that!!

*sigh*
Maybe soon... I guess I'll have to make do with my yarns. Rough life. I know, I know. And the daffodil and columbine I made with yarn are so very, very awesome! No pics of those yet...

In the next weeks, I'm going to be doing some writing/processing of the last few years of our lives here. I've had some epiphanies about a bunch of stuff, and I need to get it down and out. Along with that, I'll be writing more about the crafting, getting my etsy shop, zoesdyedreams, up and running, and continuing to chronicle the saga of the RV. My goal is to take an hour a couple days a week, and focus on one area. So, if you wanna come along, I'd love the company!

Peace out there, ya'll.

Progress!!

The Conestoga has a new drivetrain coming home this week! Yet another sign that we're doing the right thing. On a whim, I checked craigslist for a Dodge 360... lo and behold! NOT ONLY a Dodge 360 engine, but an engine and transmission for $350!!!! Unheard of! AND not only that, it came out of a 1976 Dodge RV. Can you guess what year the Conestoga is? Yup!!! 1976! So, the exact engine and trans that we have, that we need, from the same vehicle, with... wait for it...
only 46,000 miles!!! OMG people! Really?! The Universe is def saying, "You go, sister! This is the right path to choose."
Aaaaand I've been making stuff like nobody's business! Watch for updates re: etsy shop, and sister blog 'dyedreams'. Coming this week. Bank trip tomorrow for separate checking and my own paypal. Yippee skippy! Gotta make the hubby and the kid stand still so I can take some photos of them in the awesome Michigan shirts.
Seven weeks more of Michigan people! Seven weeks!!!

My American Dream

I have an American Dream. Part of it is finally realized! I am a homeowner.

The homestead

This is our Conestoga Wagon. We are pioneers. We are going boldly forth, traveling west into the relatively unknown, to make our own way, to create our own reality, to stick it to the man, if you will, and be real people, true to ourselves and our passions. 

Some have said we're out of our minds. Some think we're going to break down, and if that happens, the authorities will come take the kid. Because yeah, of course, every time a car carrying children breaks down on a road trip, it is considered neglect, and the kids are confiscated. Sheesh. Gimme a big ol' break. 

'But how will you make money?!'

Have you SEEN the art my husband can make?! Have you seen the art I can make?! Apparently not... But we can make some sweet art, and we can sell it at art fairs, and music festivals, allowing us to travel in the summer, and hunker, making art, in the winter. Also, did you know that they pay people to ride their bikes along with bicycle tours to make repairs to the bikes of other riders? Because my husband can do that with his eyes closed. He does need both hands, or I'd say with one hand tied behind his back. His toes are pretty nimble though, so maybe...

'But that's delusional! You're not in your 20s! It's a midlife crisis! You need a reality check!'

We're not delusional. We wanted to do this in our 20s. We were scared to take the leap. All the messaging from our families and society assured us that we were delusional, and if we wanted to support our little family, we needed to straighten up and fly right. So we went to college, and got educated, and got a whopping debt. That was our most salient take-away from college. Our debt. A degree is not a guarantee, folks, of money, or happiness, or anything like that. 

So, if a kid in their 20s wants to do something like this, you tell them they're delusional, they need to grow up and get real. If a couple of 45 and 50 want to do this, you tell them they're not kids, they're having midlife crises, and they need to grow up and get real. What could be more real?!

'You won't have room for ANYTHING!!!' 

Exactly. We as a family, and we as a society, have too. much. stuff. I am sick to death of stuff... needing stuff, wanting stuff, storing stuff, having stuff get covered in pet hair, and my hair, and actually losing my glasses to a tribble the size of Rhode Island for a freaking month. The less shit I have, the less shit I have to maintain, the more space I have in my head and my heart for the people I love. The more time I have to play my dulcimer, or draw with Connor, or go for walks, just because.  

'But what if this?! What if that?!'

Well, we'll deal with it if it happens, as we've dealt with everything else that the universe has thrown our way for the last 23 years that we've been together. We have faced down some mighty demons, let me tell you. We've been hanging out for almost 30 years. This will be easy. This will be healthy. This will be good.

'But you have to have a job...'

Why? Who says? We can be creative and crafty, just like all those writers and photographers and artists that are on your list of 'admired people'. We may not make much money, but hell! We don't make much money now! 

Connor can go to school. Or not. If it doesn't work for him, he'll not go. We're perfectly capable of facilitating some high-quality learning, if maybe not in the most conventional manner. And, having taught college for several years, let me assure you all that going to school in no way assures that a young adult has the ability to do research, to write, to actually think. Which is sort of a prerequisite for learning. 

Jim watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid a couple weeks ago. One line summed it all up. 

"Well, we tried going straight. Now what?"

Yup. We tried going straight. Now what indeed. Going straight didn't work, hasn't worked, isn't going to work. We are not straight. We are creative and analytical, we are unconventional. We are not happy trying to be straight. Jim is not happy when he's not making beautiful things. He hasn't made something to completion in years. He needs to cut glass with Miles Davis playing loud. He needs to play guitar. He needs to go stand in a beautiful river with a fly rod, whether or not he catches anything, or keeps anything he catches. I need to sit in front of a wood stove and knit. I need to cook, and preserve, and maybe even have bees and/or chickens. I need to sew, and set Connor loose with glue and sticks and pine cones. Connor needs to get muddy, turning over rocks, looking for frogs and bugs, he needs to learn how to skip rocks and build forts.

And really, isn't this the true American Dream folks? Self sufficiency? Making your way, making your life, using your own two hands? A friend posted a Ben Harper song , My Own Two Hands, a week or so ago, asking her readers what we would do with OUR own two hands. Well, here's my answer... I'll make my own American Dream, I'll make my own life, an authentic life for my little family, and I'll do it with my own two hands. And Jim's own two hands. And Connor's own two hands, because you know what? Those little hands are mighty capable too. They can knead bread, they can draw, they can give some killer hugs. We will build a life, a true American Dream, not this material success bullshit that is empty and hollow and spirit-killing. We will build the life WE dream, the life we choose, not the life that somebody somewhere hands us the blueprint for and says, "This is how it is done. This is what you 'need', these are the things you 'want', this is how reality looks."

Reality is not a singular noun. It is a plural verb. It is fluid, it is different for each person. Bucky Fuller wrote a book, "I Seem to be a Verb". Genius, that man. Too bad they thought he was crazy. But that is the curse of the creative, of genius. The masses, the people who live in their narrow, prescribed 'reality', think the creative and the geniuses are nuts. Too bad for them.

With my own two hands, I'm going to make that crazy old RV beautiful! It's going to have a yellow and purple kitchen. It's going to have glow-in-the-dark stars on a black ceiling above the bed. It's going to have pretty cushions, and braided rag rugs. It is my homestead, my frontier. I am going forth boldly into my future. Maybe we'll rent someplace when we get where we're going. Maybe we'll live in the RV. Maybe we'll do a combination. Maybe we'll get some jobs, maybe at the health food store and the bike tour company, and save a little bit of cash to buy a couple acres, and build an earthship or a yurt. Who knows? 

What I do know is that this isn't right. This doesn't feed my mind, body or soul. This shit only steals from my essence. It crushes who I am, it makes me a nervous, cynical, unpleasant person. I am none of those. 

The only things that truly matter in life are the people that we love. This version of somebody else's 'reality' steals people away from one another in the name of taking care of those very same people. Screw that, man. Seriously. Screw that. There is no beauty there. There is no love. In my American Dream, it's all about the beauty and the love and the truth. That is our reality. That is the reality I choose.