Making plans to come or go doesn’t seem to be working right now. So, with that said, I’ve decided to make the ‘house’ a ‘home’ where Hershey and I can have a settled feeling instead of being at the ready the first of each month to move on. Maybe I should have done that when I settled back in this familiar campground last September but … I was full of plans that didn’t work out or the timing was off. In a nutshell, planning doesn’t work or hasn’t most of the past eight or nine months but I’m good with it.
First, if you have good health, be thankful for it and take care of it the best you can because once it starts going downhill, it seems like it goes faster than a rollercoaster ride. Anything can happen to anybody but keeping your body in homeostasis is a blessing you’ll be grateful to have. Contrary to popular belief, there are some days (a lot of days) where the body will dictate the day. Go with the flow of the day. It’s your shoes. It would be a bad thing to go out when you shouldn’t and hurt either yourself, someone else or both. Not worth it. So….
Back to making the ‘house’ a ‘home’… and yes, it took a while.
Gypsy is a gem; a precious stone in our lives. Inside these four walls, all has been seen – the good, the bad and the ugly. Sometimes the bad and the ugly stay around a lot longer than it should but mostly that’s beyond control, and what can be controlled sometimes takes months on end to fix or complete. But the good – oh, the precious good makes it all worth it. Home. It sure feels like it and I like — no, love — my definition of home.
Home acquires stuff. A fact of life, no matter what you live in. Stuff you need and stuff you don’t need. Sometimes, though, the stuff you really don’t need is the exact stuff that makes a house a home. We’re all human and we all have something that makes us feel good, feel better or just plain and simply makes us happy. When I go through and decide what are necessities, what are not, what can be donated or given to someone else, what can be trashed, I make a quick decision and go with it. The happy’s, though, I have to hold and think about. For a while. Maybe a day or two… or twenty. Maybe I will decide to keep it for the next declutter round-up or maybe longer, as long as it brings a smile, happiness and most especially a memory. Done!
Now it’s on to the good stuff. I love gardening although I’ve killed more than my fair share of plants. Maybe that’s why the first place I head in a nursery is the clearance rack to see if maybe, hopefully, I can rescue something that will live and thrive with a little dirt, a little water, a little positivity and a lot of wishful thinking.
Gypsy is just a camper in a campground, on a little lot you pay rent for each month. Yet while you are here, you can do ‘some’ things to make the space more homey. Picnic table and a firepit come with the lot. The rest? That’s where making it a home comes in.
Although reigned in a lot, this is where the eccentric part of the personality comes out. You look at the big doggie kennel for the short, little Hershey Chihuahua that a pit bull could live in. He loves his big kennel even though he makes a lot of racket when I close the door, thereby shutting him inside. Don’t let him fool you though — he has two mats, a couple of stuffed animals and a bowl of cold water and complete shade every time he gets ‘locked up.’ So even though he might state otherwise, he loves his little homey space in the grass and shade, perfectly content unless another doggie should walk by or the stray cat wanders into his line of vision. Needless to say, it’s on then. .
Then there’s the foliage. All the stuff off the sale racks that need rescuing, or at least an attempt to rescue, tropical foliage that love these hot, humid, sultry days and nights, cacti that you can’t kill, flowering plants that seem to grow two inches every day, beautiful flowering vines that spread their beauty out and dance in the wind, the infamous flamingo named Matilda that stands guard over her tropical garden, and the exotic plant I treated myself to for Mother’s Day and my birthday — a Bird in Paradise that I baby and hope blooms sometime in the next couple of years. .
When the awning is out, yellow Lantana hangs from each end. The place is coming alive. The picnic table holds a variety of succulents in a big container while another container holds two Japanese Maple trees that are growing by leaps and bounds. There are also several types of sage, tomato, squash and cucumber plants, all being used or will soon be big enough to pick.
The chair sits under the awning but close to the campfire pit. There is wood to burn for those days that you don’t want to end. Between the camper door, around the chair, the tree and a little distance away stand all the tropical foliage that gets rearranged frequently. The flowers and the flip flop flower pot are simply beautiful — and pink — and an expression of ‘outside the box.’ The big arrangement saying, ‘I Love Camping’ still hangs on the window and the most important of signs, “In Case Of Emergency, Save My Dog,” is stuck to the window right beside the door. Add the long, ground covering walkway straw mat, topped with the vibrantly colored flip flop mat, and we are there. Almost. The river is out back — the icing on the cake. Home. A homey home.
The next de-clutter mission probably won’t be until the next pre-trip ritual. You can best believe, though, that the out-of-doors expression of art will be staying with me.