Well what fun, summer get-togethers with both new and "annual" RV friends. This year Lovely Ouray "regular" John Q. brought his recently retired better half, Joalenn, along for his annual Colorado hiking pilgrimage. We had a blast getting to know her on trails and through chit chats over lunch and dinner. And now, salt-of-the-earth farmers from Illinois, Chris and Mindy, are camped at the 4J RV park…their vacation home base for Jeep tours that would scare the bejesus out of most flat-landers. We all joined up for pizza and beer last night at Mine Shack II, now our only house as we closed on the sale of Mine Shack I at 4:00 pm Monday. It's a step toward simplifying our lives, I think, maybe… hopefully… oh who knows.
So, our rental house (on the right in the photo above and in the two photos below) now belongs to an intrepid family from Kentucky. Someday they will call Lovely Ouray "home." What a great place to retire. In the meantime, they'll keep the renters we had in place, and count the days.
It's weird. Bobbie and I have mixed feelings about the sale. Partly, I suppose, because we didn't really reap a profit as with previous real estate deals; we broke even only if the past three years of rental income is counted. Time will tell if we should have waited longer to sell.
I've come to think differently about "Time," lately. What was once a dear friend is now a two-faced son-of-a-bitch that favors the young. There was a time when I wished "Time" would fast forward, skip over working years so I could get on with a Life unchained from treadmills. "Be careful what you wish for," my mom would always say. She was right. Sometimes, I swear I can hear Time's incessant tolling of bells, "Dong, Dong, Dong..." It's haunting. Do they toll for me, or thee?
Having no crystal ball in which to gaze into our future—assuming we should we be so lucky to have "futures" given recent medical debacles that made a mockery out of "Heathy Living," not to mention the false sense of security that goes with such lifestyles—we thought it prudent to alter our collective mindset and attempt to live more in the moment. After all, "Now" is all one has, really, it's all we can truly possess with certainty—tangible as opposed to nebulous. There comes a turning point in life when each day is a gift. Today has everything we need…it's where we belong, where we are. Living in the future (my old hangout) isn't reality, and is, in fact, a little greedy because, just like Medicare and Social Security, it won't be there for everyone.
"Tomorrow," misses the point of being present. Downsizing helps me feel less encumbered, like swimming naked. Lightening our load of possessions—"liquifying," if you will—is a step in the direction of spontaneous freedom that comes as a result of having less "stuff." It helps me to be more conscious of the importance of each moment. Of course, a wad of cash doesn't hurt, either :))
It also signifies change—that scary demon who loves to keep us in blinders, paralyzed to the point that we become the mule that's harnessed to the pole and goes round and round in circles...turning the grindstone—rutting a risk averse path of toil and dull living. That is the price paid for safe, familiar… comfortable.
|Staining in prep for sale...|
|Joalenn, Bobbie and Chris...|
|Chris, Bobbie, Joalenn, John Q., and Mindy, hidden behind John :))|
On the "Q's" last day in town, we braved a threatening forecast and moody skies to give Joalenn one last glimpse of wildflowers above timberline, above Yankee Boy Basin, at the foot of our local icon, Mount Sneffels. He stayed hidden in mists of boiling clouds, but the wild flowers stole his thunder, anyway, and put on a real show.
Stay tuned for more photos in the next post...