Weeks 3-5 Success! Mostly.

The secret of happiness is to have low expectations. Wait. That’s not how the saying goes, is it?

All I know is that my dream started with wanting to live in an RV. The RV that was perfect for me (small, live-in, hubby could get up and walk and stretch his back while I drove) turned out to be one of the most expensive on the market — like, the same price as our┬áhouse that will take us 33 years to pay off.

So what was next? I looked at used ones. Still way out there. Okay, maybe a different class? Buy a used van and MacGyver an RV with the hubby? He’s great at MacGyver-ing stuff! Then a trailer seemed the best way to go. Used. Used trailer…then pop-up (used, of course). Finally, through a series of events and discussions that I won’t bore you with, I made a decision.

Screw it. I’m buying a tent.

And so my adventures begin. Me, my tiny car, any time off of work that I can get, and the open road. (Hubby will wait until we move into the camper phase with heat and air conditioning before he joins me, though I may be able to convince him to join me for a long weekend if the mosquito population is low and the temp is between 68-72.)

I guess success came when I stopped worrying about everything and just focused on what I could do. I could afford a tent. I could take a week off of work. I could ask my dad to teach me how to camp on a trip during that week. I could take time off on my own instead of waiting for hubby’s weird work vacation schedule. I could do something I love that hubby hates. (Whole weird emotional issues of being a people-pleaser here. Hubby often reminds me that he loves me and wants me to be happy and that I should do what I want to do. For some reason, I tend to choose my actions based on what I think people around me want, however not-accurate that may be.)

And so, though I still dream of living on the road and though that dream seems far off, for now, I am doing what I can do.


Eureka! I discovered my path.


For anyone who has ever traveled to Paris and misses it. For anyone who dreams of going to Paris in the future. It is the world’s city. A living, breathing museum.

Janice MacLeod

I was just perusing Etsy, and looking at the above link sometimes moves me to tears. Will I ever get back to Paris and do my dreamed-about photo sessions with doors? Maybe, maybe not. But oh dear Lord, do I feel so amazingly happy that I was ever able to be there in the first place.


Too many passwords!

Eh. Too many passwords!

Can’t keep them all straight. Seems like all these websites have different requirements for passwords — must have one capital letter, at least two numbers, one special character, no special characters — so I can’t just use the same one so that remembering is easy. Writing them down seems not secure.

My brain is full. Not signing up for anymore websites.

I really wanted to go onto Trip Advisor and write a wonderful review about John, our tour guide from… what was the name of that place? It had the same name as some kind of disease… Cataract. That was it. Cataract Tours.

John was awesome, and since I refuse to sign up for anymore password-access websites, I can not say it there, so I will say it here.

Niagara Falls was better because of you, John!