The musings of Mama Big Tripper…
We started off on this adventure with a plentitude of preparation, yet when the moment came, we (really, I) were not at all prepared.
Late in 2015,
we mainly Jeff started to prepare our house to sell. As the spring came, these preparations reached a heightened fury. At one point the real estate agent was sweeping the basement; when I said “fury,” I meant it. Besides, the guy was awesome.
Meanwhile, I was away from the house, preparing to leave my job. For me, that meant working… as much as possible. Realizing that there would not be an immediate replacement meant treating my co-workers as well as I could up until “go time”.
At some point, this behavior became a problem for the painting, cleaning and unending scut work happening on the homefront. But, suffice it to say, I was in denial.
This denial continued through the week where we had our belongings packed into storage. The day before the packers came, my fitbit logged over 23K steps and 90 some odd flights of stairs. Our silver girl was parked at the bottom of the driveway; she had to be packed!
This all culminates in Jeff taking our somewhat poorly packed rig to Montana for a week of fishing. My dad, Owen, and I drove to Colorado. Right into the bosom of my mama, who then proceeded to spoil me for about a week. Not fostering independence and a sense of adventure, eh?
So, then Jeff shows up, and we party for another week in the Vail Valley. Moochdocking at my parents house, as well as mooching… drinking great wine, ignoring our kid and letting Gaga (my mom) do all the work. She promises me this is fun.
The day before we left, July 4th, Jeff warned me that I might want to think about getting the trailer ready to go. So, while he was furiously packing, sorting, repacking, and modifying previously packed items, I did some laundry. The morning of departure came, so I decided I might want to go to the grocery store… without a list.
Then Jeff hitched up the trailer. I will admit to some tears. The
umbilical extension cord was unplugged and we were officially off on our Big Big Trip! My parents were congratulating us on bravery and our sense of adventure. They gave us a bottle of Champagne (as if we hadn’t already mooched enough wine). Maybe I was crying because there was no visit planned with them from this point forward… but maybe, just maybe because my gravy train had ended.
I looked over at hubby, the set of his jaw was strong, I guess I am not going to be talking him into staying a few more days. He gently patted my leg, and away we went… launched!!