Home is where the ticks are

For the first time in my life, I’m not looking to move on. Yes, I often miss the sailing life, and yes, I miss traveling to new places. But as I wandered hither and thither throughout the years, I always kept returning to this one particular harbor. I never stayed for long, because of that freezing thing, but still I came back, almost every year.

Now, as an icy future stares me in the face, I have decided to stay. And even more insane than that, I’m not moving back into my house, instead leaving it to the overactive night squirrels who have completely ignored the eviction notices. Sleep has become so invaluable to me, that I have decided to attempt to spend the winter in my blissfully quiet tin can, which has very little insulation, and is nicely equipped with a furnace that only blows hot air when the outside temp is 70, otherwise, on dark cold nights, it works really well as an air conditioner. The single pane trailer windows with the large gaps was what I loved about living here all summer. It was just like living outdoors, except that the skeeters couldn’t get in through the screens, and I didn’t get wet when it rained.

Why would I consider major winterizing modifications to a twenty year old camper, when it would be infinitely cheaper to drag the entire rig to Mexico, where I could afford to live for next to nothing in the warm sun?

Scroll to the top of this blog and read the title: ALITLOFF. Okay so maybe I should change that to ALOTOFF.

In the spring I made a deal with myself: If I could eradicate my tick borne debt by the end of September, I would go south with the geese. Not only did I not come close to meeting my own expectations, but sometimes I still completely drop all my balls, and wander off to smell the pretty flowers. It only makes sense to stay here among friends, in an area where even many strangers understand the effect that lyme disease can have on a formerly competent person. Being here with the people I love will keep me warm in a way that I won’t find anywhere else. I know, because I’ve looked for nearly 20 years. That, and I still need a lot more sleep before I face the world again. The long dark days of winter are a perfect time to stock up on zzzzs, in the hopes that I’ll wake up a complete non-lymie in the spring.

So, if anyone has any spare insulation, firewood, etc, bring it on over. I wouldn’t say no to thermal socks either.