A house is not a home.
It sure is quiet around here. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the quiet; in fact, peaceful is the way I would describe most of the places I go, but when it comes to a home, there needs to be kids' noises to turn a house into a home. I think that's one of the reasons it was relatively easy for me to move out of the last house we had: the kids were gone, and the home reverted to feeling empty without them running around. So packing up all the memories, experiences, and other detritus of a life well lived, moving out of what by then had become a house, was not easy, but not as bad as I expected.
I think I was so excited about living my new full-timing life that I didn't really have time to focus on the more difficult parts of living on the road, I just concentrated on the fun.... and fun it was.
But I think that after 12 years as a full-timer, I'm better able to see that it's really not a life for everyone. The challenges are formidable, and getting older doesn't make them any easier. And my choice to become a boondocker sometimes makes life more difficult for me, but it's the only way I can get the freedom I still crave, so it looks like I'm stuck with it.
theboondork
A neighbor's house and a couple of flowers.