Room with a View

Great place to park a home...

Lake Kagawong, Manitoulin Island

Agony and Ecstasy

The agony of leaving was remarkable.  It was an overwhelming process, and everyone close to us over the last two weeks has been witness to our fatigue, illness, anxiety, worry, sleeplessness, emotional exhaustion, and so on...  Thank you for all of your support, prayers, and practical help.  We are so grateful for everyone who chipped in in these final preparatory days (wink, wink, momma KP, and aunt Annie)!

And then, of course, the ecstasy of hitting the road.  We are all still trying to wriggle out from under the weights of stress we've been carrying, but already there is a sense of freedom and adventure before us.

We are currently about 40 miles north of Perry Sound.  Today we head to Manitoulin Island.

We will be in touch.

August RUSH

I once read a quote that said, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." Only recently has that witty little notation come to have real meaning for us.

As you know, we have been advertising our lift-off date as August 1st... And up until today we have been intent (if not irrationally adamant) on sticking to that schedule. The renovations are in full gear, I'm pulling ridiculous hours to get everything done, the kids are wondering why mommy and daddy are so busy and not playing with them (mommy and daddy are finishing work, tying up lose ends, renovating, commuting, prepping insurance and the like, and fumbling their way through new transitions), and now we have been hit with news that Indi is needed at Sick Kids for more testing - - starting tomorrow morning!

***Please keep Indiana in your prayers...

August 1st is losing it's appeal.

We will keep you updated.

Catch Up

Due to the big move-out of the house, the licensing of the RV, changing ownership, and moving down to the Danforth (which we are absolutely loving!), we have been absentee bloggers...

Coming soon will be more pics of our new home, a detailed account of the chaos that has accompanied our move, and the remarkable emotional impact of the last two weeks...

If you happen to be passing by TOB, check out the big dark pink RV in the parking lot!

Man it's HOT out there... Stay indoors if possible, don't idle, hydrate, be nice...

The 1998 Fleetwood Discovery NAME CONTEST...

(Click on the pictures to enlarge) Well friends, next week we pick up this big bus and we need to have a name for her...  Lots of names have been submitted so far, and some of them are great! Our favorites at the moment are: #1: The Star Ship Discovery (to boldly go where no family has gone before...)  #2: Rudolf #3: The Turtle #4: Betty The one who wins the name contest will win a little prize!   So keep em' coming!!! (By the way, check out the "Traveling Sisters" new blog page!)

SOLD!

Well friends, she's 36 feet in length, runs on diesel fuel, and she's pink!

At 4:53 pm on this day, the 7th of June, 2010, we shook hands with Roger and sealed the deal. We are now the proud owners of our next home on wheels... A 1998 Fleetwood Discovery... Approximately 215 square feet of living space.

We haven't named her yet... All suggestions are welcome. Email them to us at:

nomadsbychoice@gmail.com

P.S. More pictures of "unnamed RV" to come...

Cement

Have you ever carried a bag of cement? It’s heavy, dead weight. It stifles your ability to walk. You move, but it’s more of a stiff and slumberous trudge, like Frankenstein’s’ monster.

Try as you might, you cannot carry such a thing and ignore the fact. The weight is real and cumbersome.

As we approach the date of departure -- which increasingly feels more 'real' everyday -- where words and imagination become indisputably palpable, it gets heavy like that bag of cement.

Although we pretend not to be, we are tense about finances, walking around with a bit of a clenched jaw. We are unsure of how this whole thing will play out. We are nervous about what a family full of allergies will eat. And still there is that lingering doubt, like maybe this whole thing is some sort of extremist response to a mid-life crisis…

And it feels like cement.

“59 more days” rolls of the tongue like “tomorrow” rolled off yesterday. Are we ready for this? Is this really happening?

As my wife comes downstairs from putting the kids to bed, she puts her arm around me and smiles. She tells me something Pica said and we laugh…

I am suddenly reminded of the moment we’re in. I’m reminded that tomorrow is promised to nobody. I’m reminded of how much I love my wife and kids. And just now the load gets lighter. The bag tears at the bottom.

We’re in this together. And the fear that sometimes pushes us around is just interference. After all, if God is for us, who can be against us? Maybe we're more prepared than we think...