Allow me to be a bit sentimental –
We’re getting ready to take Bustache on a trip this weekend – a process that this time involves getting him smogged. Not an easy feat for a 33 year-old vehicle. Besides, you know how 1 human year is equivilant to 7 dog years? I think the same ratio must be true for cars… considering most of them “die” between the ages of 15 and 20. That would make Bustache 231 years old!
I mean, really, smog-man, cut the guy some slack. You might “emit” some unfavorable smells and gases too if your were 230+.
No slack was cut, however. Bustache failed twice. Only after taking him to a nicer, more understanding smog-man, did he finally get the seal of approval for one more year.
Despite the trial and tribulations of the last few days (and the fact that I will be spending the later part of my afternoon at the DMV trying to obtain a legit registration sticker for the bus), I am desperately looking forward to this upcoming adventure. It’s been awhile since we’ve taken the Bustache to the open road, and I have missed it.
Because, I can honestly say, my favorite moments in life, right now, are when I wake up in the early morning, snugly wrapped in Bustache’s bed (surrounded by my 12 PILLOWS, of course!), and I can listen to the sound of Steve softly breathing beside me and Westi snoring curled up on the floor below. And it’s cold outside… I know this because my fingers pull quickly away when I accidentally brush them against the window, but inside Bustache, we are cozy and warm. For all I know complete chaos could be ensuing outside, but in this turtle shell of ours, it’s quiet. And if a disaster did come upon us? We could easily survive with Bustache’s many amenities. All we need is stored safely within these walls – all within an arms reach of where I lay right now. And I can see the first light of morning slipping in-between the curtains – in two hours time we will emerge from our cocoon, and the cool air will rush into the cab as we fumble frantically to get the coffee brewing. But right now? Right now I am fighting my urge to fall back asleep, so I can enjoy this moment as long as I can…. so I can remember what this kind of peace feels like when my life feels anything but… so I can bring this enlightenment into my daily life…. so I can remain thankful – SO thankful for what I have. I am silently hoping that everyone gets to experience this kind of quiet joy – that they have these moments of pure happiness too.
And I’m not exactly sure why this is different than any other morning – when I lie awake in our bed at home, but it is. Maybe it’s because there’s no laundry waiting downstairs. Or job to run off to in the morning. Maybe it’s because there’s no T.V. to lure me away. Or computer to distract my brain.
All I know is that there is something utterly freeing about being confined to a 10’x4′ box. May we all be so lucky.
Have a wonderful trip, guys! Love your description of simple, early morning joy!
Thanks, Karen! :-(D
Oh how well I know this feeling, and as you I’m gearing up for my trip to Maupin next weekend. There just doesn’t seem to be anything better than sleeping in your bus, it’s kind of like your own little world, all safe and warm, although, I only have seven pillows.
Ha! 7 is a lucky number. As far as pillows go, you get an “A” from me. :-(D. Happy to hear you’ll be snug in you own bus again soon! It seems to be where we belong.
Lovely! Are you going to the VTO campout at Prado RV park, by any chance?
I’m missing The YesWeCan CamperVan but thankfully he is safe in CA, while I’m over here in England.
People think I’m mad when I wax lyrical about the joys of sleeping in a tin can. You’ve described it perfectly. And 12 pillows? Impressive :)