Today is Moving Day, our last day at Hernando Point.
For most people, Moving Day happens only occasionally, and some never move. For us, Moving Day occurs often. We are traveling Nomads. We move to a new location frequently because we live in our motorhome and choose to stay at locations that are mostly limited-stay campgrounds. Sometimes, we settle into one spot for a long haul and rent a monthly spot. But most often, we like moving around because it allows us to experience new locations and broadens our perspective.
We are moving three hours away, near a little town called Hohenwald, Tennessee.
This early morning, as I sit here in the quiet drinking my morning brew and watching the flames of my artificial fireplace glow serenely, I think about what Moving Day means to me.
Moving Day means new adventures, sights, sounds, and opportunities to experience, learn and grow.
But, there is also a nervous energy that always surrounds moving days because Joe and I are anxious to get back on the road. “Will we check out on time? Will we have enough time to pack? What is the best route to our new location?” A million unanswered questions and what-ifs, swirl through our heads. but things always work out well in the end.
Our fur baby, Lucy, does not like moving days because she picks up on our nervous energy and hates the rocking and bumping of our 34-foot Bounder motorhome as it rolls down the highway at speeds of 60-65 mph.
Moving day is a complicated ordeal for most people, involving boxes, packing, trucks, and trunks. But moving day is simple for us. We can be fully packed and ready in less than two hours.
We divide the tasks between the three of us. My husband, Joe, usually takes care of the outside tasks, such as putting away lawn chairs, packing up bicycles, taking care of sewer hoses, and disconnecting the water and electricity. Lucy usually sits outside and supervises his work.
While they are outside working, I pack up the inside. I ritualistically inspect the motorhome. Anything that might fall and go tumbling to the ground with a loud crash that creates a broom and dustpan disaster gets tucked away in a cabinet or dumped on top of our king-sized bed. Unfortunately, most of our loose items end up on the bed, creating a massive disarray on our neatly made sheets and blankets.
I then sweep. I always find gentle reminders of the landscapes in which we have lived. One time, when we were near the beach, I wondered how many dustpans of sand we had accumulated on our floor. Today, I will probably sweep up a zillion particles of winter leaves.
After sweeping, I give the RV a final look over for any loose items I might have missed. I lock the doors on the refrigerator because nothing is worse than the doors popping open, causing pickles and leftovers to fly off the shelves and bomb our clean kitchen floor while we drive down the road. Forgetting to lock our refrigerator is one of our worst travel nightmares. When we hit our first ‘bump’ in the road, Joe always asks, “Did you lock the fridge?”
So, all preparations made, it’s time to pull in the slides and button up the RV. Our spacious 330 sqft living area diminishes by half, and we are ready to roll. The only task remaining is to hook up our Jeep. Then we say Bon Voyage, and we are on our merry way.
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We have completed all our moving day tasks and are on the road and having a typical experience. My coffee hour was luxurious. I enjoyed sitting and doing nothing except inhaling the fragrant whiffs of steam from my hot coffee. Packing up was uneventful, as I moved through the tasks at hand with mechanical muscle movements in an orderly, purposeful manner. We hooked up the Jeep and said goodbye to the trees at Hernando Point,
We are a family of nomads who love our traveling lifestyle. So, if you ever see a slow-moving brown bus traveling down the road, towing a blue Jeep Wrangler, honk and wave because it’s probably us! Safe travels wherever the roads of life may lead you!
330 SQFT 