Well, our new home--a camping trailer-- is parked in the backyard of our current home. It was a tight squeeze between the compost bins and the chicken coop, but Keith is a master at maneuvering. Tonight, after the kids fell asleep, Keith and I sat on the miniature sofa in our miniature "house" and talked about whether or not a lively family of six will really be able to live in such close quarters.
It all started when God brought the perfect renters to us. We really like them, and they really like us---or at least, our house. The only catch was that they need to vacate their current rental about 6 weeks before we could possibly hope to be ready to leave for Thailand. We weighed our options, and the camper idea turned out to be the least expensive, least intrusive to our friends and family, and the most appealing to our kids. It has the side benefit of allowing (forcing?) us to dramatically downsize before the last-minute rush. And whatever size apartment we end up living in in Bangkok will seem palatial, I'm sure!
So there it sits. It is quite nice, but not in perfect condition. That makes me feel better somehow, maybe because we are nice-but-not-in-perfect-condition, too. I know that we will add a few more scuff marks to the flooring and spots on the carpet. I am a bit worried about the white cabinetry and appliances, but Clorox wipes shall be my friend. There is a lot of storage, if you compare it to the pop-up we had before. But if you compare it to spreading out over four levels of a big brick house, it feels rather like a shoebox.
It will not stay in our backyard. That would feel too weird, to live between the compost and the chickens while someone else spreads out in our "real house." We've arranged to rent a seasonal campsite at a local Christian camp. The deluxe playground and even more deluxe swimming pool are the big attractions for the kids, and to be honest, I'm amazed that it was by far the cheapest place to stay.
On this side of summer, I have all kinds of questions and mild anxieties. What if it rains for a week straight? How on earth am I going to keep track of a wandering little boy? Our schedule will not change at all, as far as training classes, fundraising, and the endless "to do before we leave" lists, but even simple tasks like laundry will be complicated. Will I be able to be flexible and gracious, even when everybody is perpetually dirty and everything is perpetually disorganized?
And yet...I also have all kinds of anticipations and romantic notions of campfires, s'mores, pocketknives, catching salamanders, hammocks, fishing in the pond, walks in the woods, star-gazing, and memory-making in general. I'm grateful that our children will have this wonderful woodsy summer to look back on when we are specks in the sea of high-rises and humanity that is Bangkok.
I hope I wake up every day with a sense of adventure, that I learn how to pare life down to the basics, and that I never forget how blessed I am to share this gypsy summer with the people I love the most.
It all started when God brought the perfect renters to us. We really like them, and they really like us---or at least, our house. The only catch was that they need to vacate their current rental about 6 weeks before we could possibly hope to be ready to leave for Thailand. We weighed our options, and the camper idea turned out to be the least expensive, least intrusive to our friends and family, and the most appealing to our kids. It has the side benefit of allowing (forcing?) us to dramatically downsize before the last-minute rush. And whatever size apartment we end up living in in Bangkok will seem palatial, I'm sure!
So there it sits. It is quite nice, but not in perfect condition. That makes me feel better somehow, maybe because we are nice-but-not-in-perfect-condition, too. I know that we will add a few more scuff marks to the flooring and spots on the carpet. I am a bit worried about the white cabinetry and appliances, but Clorox wipes shall be my friend. There is a lot of storage, if you compare it to the pop-up we had before. But if you compare it to spreading out over four levels of a big brick house, it feels rather like a shoebox.
It will not stay in our backyard. That would feel too weird, to live between the compost and the chickens while someone else spreads out in our "real house." We've arranged to rent a seasonal campsite at a local Christian camp. The deluxe playground and even more deluxe swimming pool are the big attractions for the kids, and to be honest, I'm amazed that it was by far the cheapest place to stay.
On this side of summer, I have all kinds of questions and mild anxieties. What if it rains for a week straight? How on earth am I going to keep track of a wandering little boy? Our schedule will not change at all, as far as training classes, fundraising, and the endless "to do before we leave" lists, but even simple tasks like laundry will be complicated. Will I be able to be flexible and gracious, even when everybody is perpetually dirty and everything is perpetually disorganized?
And yet...I also have all kinds of anticipations and romantic notions of campfires, s'mores, pocketknives, catching salamanders, hammocks, fishing in the pond, walks in the woods, star-gazing, and memory-making in general. I'm grateful that our children will have this wonderful woodsy summer to look back on when we are specks in the sea of high-rises and humanity that is Bangkok.
I hope I wake up every day with a sense of adventure, that I learn how to pare life down to the basics, and that I never forget how blessed I am to share this gypsy summer with the people I love the most.
So cool...we will be praying for you all for the many transitions you will be going thru the next few months!! And......We DO like you guys!!! :)
ReplyDeleteI do hope you'll keep posting as your gypsy summer adventure progresses ... God's hand in your lives is such inspiration to our hearts! We think of you all quite often and pray for you frequently!
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