cherterr
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jun 29, 2015
- Messages
- 339
- Reaction score
- 4
How DID I Get Here?
In 1994 I surprised my now deceased hubby with a really useful sturdy storage building where he could finally set up his shop area and work on the many projects we would come up with as a homeschooling, newly semi-rural family of 5 with countless animals and ideas.
I remember sitting out there in cooler weather enjoying the peace, and quiet as it was the only place to hide from all the busyness of our home. I'm not sure if it was that calm pleasure or just the thought of wondering when I'd ever be 'free' again from all my responsibilities; but I would often think I'd be quite comfy living in something like it.
As a midwest child of 9, I was dragged kicking and screaming to Texas, a month after the JFK assination. My coloring book contained a big black 'X' on the state and I was completely disgusted with being bombarded by others about 'how funnie ah taulked'. So, almost immediately, I planned to escape this backward hell hole as soon as adulthood made it possible. In the meantime, I always enjoyed the road trip to get here in our little green and white Ford Station Wagon. Adventures with a Kansas blizzard, all the little truck stops, and moving our aquarium fish who froze and thawed out to live, were all some pretty heady travel memories!
In my mid 20s I managed to escape for a couple of years, traveling 3 or 4 times in various methods back and forth to California. It was the 70s! I met a guy, he was from LA, and off we went. Most of the traveling was done in a shiny, cavernous, Lincoln Continental, although I hopped a SouthWest Airlines L1011 'peanut fare', a time or two, as well. I lived and worked in LA for about 18 months with a temporary worker employer, then tried out northern California for a few months. Ironically, I lived just a few blocks from what later became Silicon Valley!
Living the previous decade of my life in Texas had apparently had an effect on me. By the time the movies Urban Cowboy, and The China Syndrome came out - I was ready to go HOME, to Texas! See, at that time California had a nueclear power plant built on a fault line not too far east of San Francisco, and since I had a first hand encounter with a very tiny earthquake, I realized I aboslutely wanted nothing to do with anything more lasting in California, no matter HOW beautiful it was. So, home I went.
After the husband died (three months before "Y2K") I purchased a 26 foot bumper pull Wilderness trailer, which I dragged behind my Chevy G20 conversion van, lovingly dubbed "Globey" by the kids, due to the company's logo of the earth on all the seats and the spare tire cover. We made a trip to Niagra Falls, and spent 3 days of a collectibles shopper's bliss, in Lebanon, Ohio, while the transmission was replaced. Never let it be underestimated how much a good emergency fund can save the day.
A few more years would go by, I would remarry, the kids would grow up, and I finally remmebered my calm pleasure sitting out in that storage building, dreaming of when I'd be free. The only problem I could think of was how to finance my dream of what's come to be known as my Granny Cabin Project.
Stupidly remarrying in 2002 resulted in divorce, caused us to come to an agreement regarding our combined financial arrangement. We had equally shared in decisions to rehabilitate my house where my youngest son was born, and had spent three years on that task. I still have it today and have never made a penny on that thing. But she's my Real Estate Soul Mate. A fabulous Mid Century Modern built as a gift to a new wife in 1955 by members of the masons. Yep. It's THAT cool! The PurplePalace.
The first time I lived there from 1989 to 1992 I was a happy homeschooling mom of 3, and took in more kids as a childcare provider. We were happy. The second time (2007-2013) was with Mr. Abusive during the rehab project (after my 'renter/purchaser'of 13 years did nothing in the way of upkeep for all those years). I think it actually made me madder to have the 'energy' of that anger and abuse in my house than the actual bruises from time to time.
In 2010, after I set myself free from Mr. Abusive, I purchased a little lot on a well known northeast Texas fishing lake, and by then had invented what I called my Pretend RV, which was a converted 6 x 12 cargo trailer. I could only go out every few weeks as it was a 4 hour drive from my home. After about a year, I came up with the idea that I could just live out my days in a nice 5th wheel RV thinking I'd probably be dead in 10 years or so anyway, so what did it matter if it fell apart?
The problem came when I wanted just 8 square feet more in my storage shed than was allowed by the restrictions, so I got rid of the whole thing and moved to greener pastures.
I had found my BFF a place from Craigslist during that year and he hated the fact that I was going to be forever stuck with no freedom to build what I wanted in the way of a storage shed, so he put the bait out for me to come build my Granny Cabin on his place. Within a very short time it became evident that his place was almost too small for HIM, so I started looking around the neighborhood for a place of my own.
In March of 2013, I sold all my stuff, rented out the PurplePalace, and moved the RV to my sparsely shaded (okay, there's really NO shade) 3/4 acre non-restricted lot in south central Texas! There's an exclamation point because even now, I still get a bold, exciting feeling reading it. I was free!!! Well, almost.
After a year or so I began to realize that I would need a more permanent dwelling. RVs are not great with insulation, etc. etc. etc. I could do a Granny Cabin on this god forsaken treeless place, but I just couldn't see the virtue in not getting it right, this time. So I waited, and within another year, I purchased one of the best little lots in the neighborhood complete with a really nice small lake at the back.
The trees on the Granny Cabin lot are fantastic. So are the vines and underbrush. At this writing, it still is not exactly what I would wish in a perfect world, but a lot of the tree killing vines have been dealt with - s l o w l y over time; enough so that in October of 2015 I ordered my shell for the Granny Cabin.
The important part of this story has yet to be told. It's about my income. I receive a fixed income from social security, which will hopefully continue til I drop dead. The OTHER two-thirds which I have invested in paying off debt and working on the Granny Cabin Project, could stop at any moment, as it was the settlement Mr. Abusive and I came up with. When he dies, it stops. I'm 62 now. Although healthy, he's 15 years older. See why I'm a little stressed to get this right?
Enter Matt Foley. Some of you fans of Saturday Night Live I'm sure are familiar with the character created by Chris Farley who "lives in a VAN, down by the River!!". This always sounded like a 'capital idea' to me. Why not?
So here it is 2016. I constantly feel the possible looming financial time constraints, still paying off some real estate debt, but I have a piece of property, 5th wheel, and my little Toyota Sienna minivan all paid for; which I am in the process of turning into my vanabode. If all else fails, I'll have IT.
The Granny Cabin Project is on hold while I prepare the Sienna for life on the road. In the last month I have used my newly acquired skills with power tools to build a little bed and kitchen area for the Sienna. I will be so glad after tomorrow when the mechanic installs the house battery system, and I can get back to planning my interior space for actual travel. Hopefully, it will be the LAST time I have to take it all out; but I have a sneaking suspicion it won't.
My original intention was to wait til really hot weather arrives in August and September and just GO, since my current intention is to be more of a SnowBird. Unfortunately for me, Bob of CheapRVLiving.com came up with a reason for me to rush my van plans: RTR in Flagstaff! I went there in the Lincoln back in May of 1980 on the way down from my 6 minute stay at the Grand Canyon, and fell in LOVE! I always said I would go back.
What can I say? Motivation. What a concept!
In 1994 I surprised my now deceased hubby with a really useful sturdy storage building where he could finally set up his shop area and work on the many projects we would come up with as a homeschooling, newly semi-rural family of 5 with countless animals and ideas.
I remember sitting out there in cooler weather enjoying the peace, and quiet as it was the only place to hide from all the busyness of our home. I'm not sure if it was that calm pleasure or just the thought of wondering when I'd ever be 'free' again from all my responsibilities; but I would often think I'd be quite comfy living in something like it.
As a midwest child of 9, I was dragged kicking and screaming to Texas, a month after the JFK assination. My coloring book contained a big black 'X' on the state and I was completely disgusted with being bombarded by others about 'how funnie ah taulked'. So, almost immediately, I planned to escape this backward hell hole as soon as adulthood made it possible. In the meantime, I always enjoyed the road trip to get here in our little green and white Ford Station Wagon. Adventures with a Kansas blizzard, all the little truck stops, and moving our aquarium fish who froze and thawed out to live, were all some pretty heady travel memories!
In my mid 20s I managed to escape for a couple of years, traveling 3 or 4 times in various methods back and forth to California. It was the 70s! I met a guy, he was from LA, and off we went. Most of the traveling was done in a shiny, cavernous, Lincoln Continental, although I hopped a SouthWest Airlines L1011 'peanut fare', a time or two, as well. I lived and worked in LA for about 18 months with a temporary worker employer, then tried out northern California for a few months. Ironically, I lived just a few blocks from what later became Silicon Valley!
Living the previous decade of my life in Texas had apparently had an effect on me. By the time the movies Urban Cowboy, and The China Syndrome came out - I was ready to go HOME, to Texas! See, at that time California had a nueclear power plant built on a fault line not too far east of San Francisco, and since I had a first hand encounter with a very tiny earthquake, I realized I aboslutely wanted nothing to do with anything more lasting in California, no matter HOW beautiful it was. So, home I went.
After the husband died (three months before "Y2K") I purchased a 26 foot bumper pull Wilderness trailer, which I dragged behind my Chevy G20 conversion van, lovingly dubbed "Globey" by the kids, due to the company's logo of the earth on all the seats and the spare tire cover. We made a trip to Niagra Falls, and spent 3 days of a collectibles shopper's bliss, in Lebanon, Ohio, while the transmission was replaced. Never let it be underestimated how much a good emergency fund can save the day.
A few more years would go by, I would remarry, the kids would grow up, and I finally remmebered my calm pleasure sitting out in that storage building, dreaming of when I'd be free. The only problem I could think of was how to finance my dream of what's come to be known as my Granny Cabin Project.
Stupidly remarrying in 2002 resulted in divorce, caused us to come to an agreement regarding our combined financial arrangement. We had equally shared in decisions to rehabilitate my house where my youngest son was born, and had spent three years on that task. I still have it today and have never made a penny on that thing. But she's my Real Estate Soul Mate. A fabulous Mid Century Modern built as a gift to a new wife in 1955 by members of the masons. Yep. It's THAT cool! The PurplePalace.
The first time I lived there from 1989 to 1992 I was a happy homeschooling mom of 3, and took in more kids as a childcare provider. We were happy. The second time (2007-2013) was with Mr. Abusive during the rehab project (after my 'renter/purchaser'of 13 years did nothing in the way of upkeep for all those years). I think it actually made me madder to have the 'energy' of that anger and abuse in my house than the actual bruises from time to time.
In 2010, after I set myself free from Mr. Abusive, I purchased a little lot on a well known northeast Texas fishing lake, and by then had invented what I called my Pretend RV, which was a converted 6 x 12 cargo trailer. I could only go out every few weeks as it was a 4 hour drive from my home. After about a year, I came up with the idea that I could just live out my days in a nice 5th wheel RV thinking I'd probably be dead in 10 years or so anyway, so what did it matter if it fell apart?
The problem came when I wanted just 8 square feet more in my storage shed than was allowed by the restrictions, so I got rid of the whole thing and moved to greener pastures.
I had found my BFF a place from Craigslist during that year and he hated the fact that I was going to be forever stuck with no freedom to build what I wanted in the way of a storage shed, so he put the bait out for me to come build my Granny Cabin on his place. Within a very short time it became evident that his place was almost too small for HIM, so I started looking around the neighborhood for a place of my own.
In March of 2013, I sold all my stuff, rented out the PurplePalace, and moved the RV to my sparsely shaded (okay, there's really NO shade) 3/4 acre non-restricted lot in south central Texas! There's an exclamation point because even now, I still get a bold, exciting feeling reading it. I was free!!! Well, almost.
After a year or so I began to realize that I would need a more permanent dwelling. RVs are not great with insulation, etc. etc. etc. I could do a Granny Cabin on this god forsaken treeless place, but I just couldn't see the virtue in not getting it right, this time. So I waited, and within another year, I purchased one of the best little lots in the neighborhood complete with a really nice small lake at the back.
The trees on the Granny Cabin lot are fantastic. So are the vines and underbrush. At this writing, it still is not exactly what I would wish in a perfect world, but a lot of the tree killing vines have been dealt with - s l o w l y over time; enough so that in October of 2015 I ordered my shell for the Granny Cabin.
The important part of this story has yet to be told. It's about my income. I receive a fixed income from social security, which will hopefully continue til I drop dead. The OTHER two-thirds which I have invested in paying off debt and working on the Granny Cabin Project, could stop at any moment, as it was the settlement Mr. Abusive and I came up with. When he dies, it stops. I'm 62 now. Although healthy, he's 15 years older. See why I'm a little stressed to get this right?
Enter Matt Foley. Some of you fans of Saturday Night Live I'm sure are familiar with the character created by Chris Farley who "lives in a VAN, down by the River!!". This always sounded like a 'capital idea' to me. Why not?
So here it is 2016. I constantly feel the possible looming financial time constraints, still paying off some real estate debt, but I have a piece of property, 5th wheel, and my little Toyota Sienna minivan all paid for; which I am in the process of turning into my vanabode. If all else fails, I'll have IT.
The Granny Cabin Project is on hold while I prepare the Sienna for life on the road. In the last month I have used my newly acquired skills with power tools to build a little bed and kitchen area for the Sienna. I will be so glad after tomorrow when the mechanic installs the house battery system, and I can get back to planning my interior space for actual travel. Hopefully, it will be the LAST time I have to take it all out; but I have a sneaking suspicion it won't.
My original intention was to wait til really hot weather arrives in August and September and just GO, since my current intention is to be more of a SnowBird. Unfortunately for me, Bob of CheapRVLiving.com came up with a reason for me to rush my van plans: RTR in Flagstaff! I went there in the Lincoln back in May of 1980 on the way down from my 6 minute stay at the Grand Canyon, and fell in LOVE! I always said I would go back.
What can I say? Motivation. What a concept!
