Day 579: Back On Line

I broke a second Mac laptop computer screen on Yule and am just getting back on line, all thanks to our host, Ed. I do as little as possible on my phone except take pictures, write notes to myself, and make phone calls. With no emails, Facebook, Netflix, etc., I did a lot of reading, walking the paths in the woods, and celebrating the dark. This is a hippie hideout. Small. Calm. Green. The people here were also here last year when I visited, with one exception: Corbett O'Toole.

I’ve known her for less than a week, but it only took 20 minutes for her to blow me away. She describes herself as a “queer, crip, elder” who is also a well-known activist. For 18 months she had lived in a beautiful blue skoolie with a 100-gallon bathtub, the best Dometic refrigerator-freezer you could buy, a sewing machine and fabric. When I arrived she was transitioning into an accessible van. She sorted and labeled and donated and condensed. In the end, she got pretty much everything she most wanted into the van, nearly all of it neatly boxed and labeled.

I love that all the members of this community pitched in. We offloaded the bus, sorted items, loaded up the van, washed clothes, installed hooks, raised the bed, and finished other odd jobs on her checklist.

Living in a vehicle, traveling from place to place, and managing everything alone is difficult enough. I don’t know if I’d be strong enough to do it in a wheelchair. With just the bare basics and a huge smile, she set out for Los Vegas shortly after Christmas. I do so hope our paths cross again.

Corbett donated her partially outfitted bus to an organization that will give it to a family living in a tent. She left behind boxes and boxes and boxes of items ranging from safety pins to Rubbermaid containers, a sleeping bag to water filters, cooler chests to a winch. Much of it will be donated, but I did select some things to travel with me. Among them were a container of altar items, tea bags, spaghetti sauce, a heavy duty measuring tape, magnetic hooks, a portable ironing board and iron, a lunch plate with a bus on it, and enough bags of plastic bags to scoop the cat box until I get back to New Hampshire.

I need to cut this short and finish packing. December 31 I am driving 80 miles to a small two-night folk festival, and then hoping to spend several more days exploring the gulf coast.