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Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
On family and the little things
Our travel adventure thus far has involved spending a lot of time with family and friends. While this was not our intentional focus, it has turned out to be a welcome bonus to our location independent wanderings.
Actually, the nature of our travels at this early stage has not been all that different from what Jeremy and I would have done had we had a home base. With my entire village being in Colorado (and by that I mean the "village" needed to keep a 50-something gal looking and feeling her best--doctor, dentist, hair stylist, etc.) I always make a springtime pilgrimage to Denver for visits to these and other service providers. So, heading off to CO to stay and hang out with my kids wasn't exactly considered living the high life of travel.
Then, as coincidence would have it, my brother announced his upcoming wedding in Minnesota, so this past weekend, we (and by "we," I mean the usual assortment of siblings, nieces, nephews, in-laws, kids and grandkids) all jetted off to Minneapolis to participate in the festivities.
These are things I would have done anyway--Happily Homeless or not. They have nonetheless added to our travel perspectives and taught Jeremy and me a thing or two--as this adventure is intended to do. They have in fact, helped us determine where our next hat-hanging spot will be. More on that later.
It's easy to delude oneself that Skype video chats, emails, Facebook, and phone calls are the equal of in-person visits. And indeed, they might come close--if the Skype video were left on all day, or emails flew back and forth incessantly. But since that is not practical, we use what we have when we can. And so interactions with family and friends have become reduced to a series of instant messages, texts, video chats, phone calls and emails. However, it is only when I am in the actual presence of those that I care about that I enjoy the full benefits of true companionship and emotional closeness.
By hanging out with my kids and grandkids since the beginning of this month, I hear about their daily interactions and trials, laugh with them a lot more and have more in-depth conversations. I speak frequently with my sons-in-law, who tend to be more in the background when I video chat with my daughters, but are definitely in the foreground in real life. When I am with my adult children, I fall easily into the Mom role--a role that I love but one that subsides when I am apart from them. Bethany hates tomatoes, don't even think about serving Joel a mushroom. Alyssa only likes soft cookies, not crisp ones, and Jason...(oh hell--Jason eats anything). I don't even have to think about these preferences; they occur to me naturally.
I cook, dispense advice (which is asked for much more often when I am in closer proximity), laud praise, remind, clean up the kitchen, snuggle with my grandchildren and remind everyone not to forget their metaphorical lunch money. I'm a mom...it's what I do.
I enjoy being around for the little things.
In the same way, spending a three day weekend with my extended family offers a glimpse into their lives that I don't get when miles separate us. (Note: for the sake of family harmony, I will use only first initials when talking about family members other than those already introduced in this blog.) My nephew J makes me laugh until milk (okay--wine) snorts out of my nose, niece B shows me her new bedroom and I see firsthand her talent for decorating and utilizing color creatively and harmoniously. We tease nephew J (the other J nephew--there's two of 'em) about his emerging gray hairs while thinking, "How the hell can this be? Didn't I just change his diaper like a couple of years ago?!?" (Note that nephew J, who expressed his enjoyment of this blog several times over the past few days, is probably right now ruing his encouragement of me to "keep up the blogging." LOL. However, I'm sure his wife, J, will enjoy these comments immensely. Yep--she's a J, too.)
So when brother J (Seriously? Another J? Can they get any more boring?) mentioned that he has an extra townhome on his hands (new wife=new life=new home=gotta do something with the old one), Jeremy (we do not need to call him J as you already know all about him and besides, this is getting ridiculous) and I offered to rent it from him for a couple of months until our next house-sitting assignment. It seems like a win/win for all parties involved. I'm wildly excited about spending time with my brother and his family--time separate from weddings, funerals, graduations and other cram-it-all-in-in-a-weekend events. And while I've visited Minnesota for said events over the years, as well as for some consulting work I did there in another life, I've never actually stayed there long enough to explore it.
And so, on to the next chapter of our adventure--in a little while--we'll let J and B (Phew! he did not marry a J) return from their honeymoon first. A stint in Minnesota was not what we'd intended or planned for, nor was spending time with my extended family. But, as we suspected when we started out on this journey, opportunities and ideas present themselves from out of the blue. And since my 2011 theme is "Connection," it makes perfect sense to me that the Universe has placed me in close proximity to those with whom it wants me to connect.
I can't wait to share in the little things. I might even change my name to Jacinda! Jackie? Jana?
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Actually, the nature of our travels at this early stage has not been all that different from what Jeremy and I would have done had we had a home base. With my entire village being in Colorado (and by that I mean the "village" needed to keep a 50-something gal looking and feeling her best--doctor, dentist, hair stylist, etc.) I always make a springtime pilgrimage to Denver for visits to these and other service providers. So, heading off to CO to stay and hang out with my kids wasn't exactly considered living the high life of travel.
Then, as coincidence would have it, my brother announced his upcoming wedding in Minnesota, so this past weekend, we (and by "we," I mean the usual assortment of siblings, nieces, nephews, in-laws, kids and grandkids) all jetted off to Minneapolis to participate in the festivities.
These are things I would have done anyway--Happily Homeless or not. They have nonetheless added to our travel perspectives and taught Jeremy and me a thing or two--as this adventure is intended to do. They have in fact, helped us determine where our next hat-hanging spot will be. More on that later.
It's easy to delude oneself that Skype video chats, emails, Facebook, and phone calls are the equal of in-person visits. And indeed, they might come close--if the Skype video were left on all day, or emails flew back and forth incessantly. But since that is not practical, we use what we have when we can. And so interactions with family and friends have become reduced to a series of instant messages, texts, video chats, phone calls and emails. However, it is only when I am in the actual presence of those that I care about that I enjoy the full benefits of true companionship and emotional closeness.
By hanging out with my kids and grandkids since the beginning of this month, I hear about their daily interactions and trials, laugh with them a lot more and have more in-depth conversations. I speak frequently with my sons-in-law, who tend to be more in the background when I video chat with my daughters, but are definitely in the foreground in real life. When I am with my adult children, I fall easily into the Mom role--a role that I love but one that subsides when I am apart from them. Bethany hates tomatoes, don't even think about serving Joel a mushroom. Alyssa only likes soft cookies, not crisp ones, and Jason...(oh hell--Jason eats anything). I don't even have to think about these preferences; they occur to me naturally.
I cook, dispense advice (which is asked for much more often when I am in closer proximity), laud praise, remind, clean up the kitchen, snuggle with my grandchildren and remind everyone not to forget their metaphorical lunch money. I'm a mom...it's what I do.
I enjoy being around for the little things.
In the same way, spending a three day weekend with my extended family offers a glimpse into their lives that I don't get when miles separate us. (Note: for the sake of family harmony, I will use only first initials when talking about family members other than those already introduced in this blog.) My nephew J makes me laugh until milk (okay--wine) snorts out of my nose, niece B shows me her new bedroom and I see firsthand her talent for decorating and utilizing color creatively and harmoniously. We tease nephew J (the other J nephew--there's two of 'em) about his emerging gray hairs while thinking, "How the hell can this be? Didn't I just change his diaper like a couple of years ago?!?" (Note that nephew J, who expressed his enjoyment of this blog several times over the past few days, is probably right now ruing his encouragement of me to "keep up the blogging." LOL. However, I'm sure his wife, J, will enjoy these comments immensely. Yep--she's a J, too.)
So when brother J (Seriously? Another J? Can they get any more boring?) mentioned that he has an extra townhome on his hands (new wife=new life=new home=gotta do something with the old one), Jeremy (we do not need to call him J as you already know all about him and besides, this is getting ridiculous) and I offered to rent it from him for a couple of months until our next house-sitting assignment. It seems like a win/win for all parties involved. I'm wildly excited about spending time with my brother and his family--time separate from weddings, funerals, graduations and other cram-it-all-in-in-a-weekend events. And while I've visited Minnesota for said events over the years, as well as for some consulting work I did there in another life, I've never actually stayed there long enough to explore it.
And so, on to the next chapter of our adventure--in a little while--we'll let J and B (Phew! he did not marry a J) return from their honeymoon first. A stint in Minnesota was not what we'd intended or planned for, nor was spending time with my extended family. But, as we suspected when we started out on this journey, opportunities and ideas present themselves from out of the blue. And since my 2011 theme is "Connection," it makes perfect sense to me that the Universe has placed me in close proximity to those with whom it wants me to connect.
I can't wait to share in the little things. I might even change my name to Jacinda! Jackie? Jana?
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The cost of free
I was brought up in a fairly frugal family and have cheerfully adopted many thrifty traits as my own (although I refuse to wash and reuse aluminum foil as my mother did). So, I am often enticed by anything labelled "free". I'm not stupid and I'm probably the least likely person to get lured into a scam by the use of the word. But a legitimate freebie? Oh baby! Yep, more often than not, I'm in.
However, I am a minimalist work in progress and I erred big-time recently. One of my Facebook friends posted a link to free IMAX tickets at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. The free presentation was showing on a night when I'd be in Denver, so I eagerly scooped up four tickets for Jeremy, Bethany, Kaydi and myself. On the night of the event, Jeremy and I drove across town in rush hour traffic, met the kids for dinner, where I we picked up the $38 tab, and then schlepped back across town to wait in line for the IMAX tickets (at which point I woefully realized that I should have worn a coat). Once inside and seated (and I'd stopped shivering), I realized I was a few inches from a woman heavily doused with perfume--the "scent" (and I use the term very lightly) of which was strong enough to gag a skunk. The film was okay--not my favorite IMAX movie of all times, but interesting and had great cinematography. Then, back in the car, to drop off Beth and Kaydi (whom we'd offered to drive to avoid using two cars). The back to Alyssa's house to drop into bed exhausted.
Summary of the night? Well, it certainly wasn't free, as it cost us money for dinner and gas. My eyes were damn near swollen shut from my perfume allergy. I ate more than I should--always do when I go out to eat and it never tastes as good as the meals I make myself. And sure the company was great--we always enjoy spending time with Bethany and crew. But we could have done that without the "free" IMAX tix. Had the movie been fantastic, it may have been worth it, but since it was just okay....hmmm...not so much.
I think a true minimalist is one who evaluates the usefulness and joy brought about not only by objects, but also by the events that come into our lives. Sure, it's a no-brainer that expensive homes have to be maintained and tchotskies have to be dusted. But minimalism isn't only about the stuff that physically clutters our lives; it's also about the way our time gets over-scheduled as well (also our thoughts, but that's another blog post). Allowing one's time to be governed by occurrences and events that don't enrich us as much as we deserve to be enriched is just as wasteful, in my opinion, as frivolously spending money on items we don't need.
Had I been more introspective about how I wanted to use my time last week, then I would have rationalized that even though the IMAX tickets were free, the overall experience was not going to bring me the amount of joy equal to the amount of time and money that I spent on the event. And while Stinky Perfume Lady couldn't have been anticipated, I did know that driving across town in traffic would be irritating and that dinner would be costly in terms of both calories and cash. But did I think about those things beforehand? Nope. I got drawn in by "free" and never looked back--until the Monday morning quarterbacking phase, at least.
But that's okay. Minimalism is a journey, not a destination, and I am certainly learning much along the way. And what I've learned about minimalism this week is that it's not only about tangible stuff but the intangibles as well. I, for one, plan to become a lot more frugal with how the currency of my time gets spent.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
However, I am a minimalist work in progress and I erred big-time recently. One of my Facebook friends posted a link to free IMAX tickets at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. The free presentation was showing on a night when I'd be in Denver, so I eagerly scooped up four tickets for Jeremy, Bethany, Kaydi and myself. On the night of the event, Jeremy and I drove across town in rush hour traffic, met the kids for dinner, where I we picked up the $38 tab, and then schlepped back across town to wait in line for the IMAX tickets (at which point I woefully realized that I should have worn a coat). Once inside and seated (and I'd stopped shivering), I realized I was a few inches from a woman heavily doused with perfume--the "scent" (and I use the term very lightly) of which was strong enough to gag a skunk. The film was okay--not my favorite IMAX movie of all times, but interesting and had great cinematography. Then, back in the car, to drop off Beth and Kaydi (whom we'd offered to drive to avoid using two cars). The back to Alyssa's house to drop into bed exhausted.
Summary of the night? Well, it certainly wasn't free, as it cost us money for dinner and gas. My eyes were damn near swollen shut from my perfume allergy. I ate more than I should--always do when I go out to eat and it never tastes as good as the meals I make myself. And sure the company was great--we always enjoy spending time with Bethany and crew. But we could have done that without the "free" IMAX tix. Had the movie been fantastic, it may have been worth it, but since it was just okay....hmmm...not so much.
I think a true minimalist is one who evaluates the usefulness and joy brought about not only by objects, but also by the events that come into our lives. Sure, it's a no-brainer that expensive homes have to be maintained and tchotskies have to be dusted. But minimalism isn't only about the stuff that physically clutters our lives; it's also about the way our time gets over-scheduled as well (also our thoughts, but that's another blog post). Allowing one's time to be governed by occurrences and events that don't enrich us as much as we deserve to be enriched is just as wasteful, in my opinion, as frivolously spending money on items we don't need.
Had I been more introspective about how I wanted to use my time last week, then I would have rationalized that even though the IMAX tickets were free, the overall experience was not going to bring me the amount of joy equal to the amount of time and money that I spent on the event. And while Stinky Perfume Lady couldn't have been anticipated, I did know that driving across town in traffic would be irritating and that dinner would be costly in terms of both calories and cash. But did I think about those things beforehand? Nope. I got drawn in by "free" and never looked back--until the Monday morning quarterbacking phase, at least.
But that's okay. Minimalism is a journey, not a destination, and I am certainly learning much along the way. And what I've learned about minimalism this week is that it's not only about tangible stuff but the intangibles as well. I, for one, plan to become a lot more frugal with how the currency of my time gets spent.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
If only I had the answers to life's tough questions
I'm used to not having answers to some of life's more basic questions. The toughest one for me to date has been the "What do you do?" query. Not only am I am a wedding officiant (a "job" that many have never heard of outside of traditional clergy or judicial officers) but I've put together a wedding officiating business with a large group of officiants under one umbrella. This is pretty unusual and is not conducive to a short response when asked "what do you do?"
If I say, "I am a wedding officiant," not only is it an incomplete truth, but I inevitably get a response of, "Oh, you're a wedding planner! How fun--you must like planning parties." Or (and this one is always accompanied by a puzzled look, "You mean you're a minister?" Either way, I'm often stuck with the choice of offering a long explanation or a mumbled--"Sure--that's it."
Neither of these responses is very satisfying, but it's a small price to pay for loving the work I do. In moments of impishness, I sometimes answer the question by saying, "I marry people for money," which always gets me a bemused look (usually as the person backs up a step or two).
But now that I've embraced a location-independent lifestyle, I find myself faced with a new not-easily-answered question.
"Where are you from?"
Such a simple query, on the surface at least. And to the uninspired, there is no comprehension as to why it should be a difficult one to answer. Where do I lay my head at night? Where is my home? In what city do I reside?
In truth, my options at the moment would be along the lines of, "I dunno," "I don't have one," or "It depends."
It appears to be a fundamental premise of living in the U.S. that one has a job and a home. If not, then all kinds of negative connotations are associated with the alternatives. Homeless and unemployed are not exactly life statuses to which most folks aspire.
But here I sit--embracing both of those and no, I don't live with my parents or my adult children, nor do I have a trust fund to cover my daily needs. I am not down and out, down on my luck, downcast or down in the dumps. I do, however, hope to be "down under" before the end of the year as we've already secured two housesits in Australia! I've also downsized, but voluntarily and joyfully so. I am also not upside down on any mortgages, credit cards or other loans because I don't have any.
(Sorry for the digression. I got downright carried away!)
I have three places where my heart feels I am from: Rhode Island (where I was born and raised), Vermont, where I brought up my children and which is undoubtedly the most beautiful place on earth in the autumn, and Colorado, where I lived for 15 years and where my kids and grandkids still reside. But if I tell people I am "from" any of these places, they will assume that I still live there. Besides, that doesn't exactly give an accurate picture, when I can be in New Mexico one month and Ireland the next.
Perhaps when I am out of the country, I can tell people I am "from" the U.S. and that will suffice? However, what is a location independent person to tell people when she is in her own (quite large) country? It can't be "I am permanently traveling," as that inevitably elicits the response of, "Oh, what kind of RV do you have?" which ranks right up there with, "Oh, so you're a minister?" and makes me want to run screaming for the door...if I had one, that is.
And it doesn't help that many people inevitably ascribe stereotypical attributes to people from certain regions of the country. Vermonters are rural-dwelling tree-huggers who love the simple life, Rhode Islanders tawk funny (well, that one happens to be true in my case), Oregonians know about rain, Southerners are rednecks, New Yorkers are brash, Coloradans love to ski, mid-Westerners are boring and predictable, Alaskans kill bears in their leisure time, etc. Enough already! The minute I do tell people where I'm from, they will immediately associate me with a characteristic that more than likely won't be accurate.
So I am open to suggestions on how to answer this query. It's gotta be short and pithy. I can't tolerate (nor, undoubtedly, can the listener) a long drawn out explanation of my Happily Homeless lifestyle. And nothing too touchy feely, either. I'm not about to respond by saying things like, "My home is where my friends are and they are all over the world," or "I reside in my husband's heart." These may be true, but we're not going there. "I live a location-independent lifestyle," sounds haughty and "I'm Happily Homeless," too cutesy. "I'm a nomad," conjures up images of camel treks across the desert and I'm way too fair-skinned for that.
I need a haikuesque-type response that conveys my current (lack of) living arrangement and since I've not managed to come up with one for my career, I figure the odds aren't good that I can produce something witty for this aspect of my life either. Anybody have any suggestions?
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
If I say, "I am a wedding officiant," not only is it an incomplete truth, but I inevitably get a response of, "Oh, you're a wedding planner! How fun--you must like planning parties." Or (and this one is always accompanied by a puzzled look, "You mean you're a minister?" Either way, I'm often stuck with the choice of offering a long explanation or a mumbled--"Sure--that's it."
Neither of these responses is very satisfying, but it's a small price to pay for loving the work I do. In moments of impishness, I sometimes answer the question by saying, "I marry people for money," which always gets me a bemused look (usually as the person backs up a step or two).
But now that I've embraced a location-independent lifestyle, I find myself faced with a new not-easily-answered question.
"Where are you from?"
Such a simple query, on the surface at least. And to the uninspired, there is no comprehension as to why it should be a difficult one to answer. Where do I lay my head at night? Where is my home? In what city do I reside?
In truth, my options at the moment would be along the lines of, "I dunno," "I don't have one," or "It depends."
It appears to be a fundamental premise of living in the U.S. that one has a job and a home. If not, then all kinds of negative connotations are associated with the alternatives. Homeless and unemployed are not exactly life statuses to which most folks aspire.
But here I sit--embracing both of those and no, I don't live with my parents or my adult children, nor do I have a trust fund to cover my daily needs. I am not down and out, down on my luck, downcast or down in the dumps. I do, however, hope to be "down under" before the end of the year as we've already secured two housesits in Australia! I've also downsized, but voluntarily and joyfully so. I am also not upside down on any mortgages, credit cards or other loans because I don't have any.
(Sorry for the digression. I got downright carried away!)
I have three places where my heart feels I am from: Rhode Island (where I was born and raised), Vermont, where I brought up my children and which is undoubtedly the most beautiful place on earth in the autumn, and Colorado, where I lived for 15 years and where my kids and grandkids still reside. But if I tell people I am "from" any of these places, they will assume that I still live there. Besides, that doesn't exactly give an accurate picture, when I can be in New Mexico one month and Ireland the next.
Perhaps when I am out of the country, I can tell people I am "from" the U.S. and that will suffice? However, what is a location independent person to tell people when she is in her own (quite large) country? It can't be "I am permanently traveling," as that inevitably elicits the response of, "Oh, what kind of RV do you have?" which ranks right up there with, "Oh, so you're a minister?" and makes me want to run screaming for the door...if I had one, that is.
And it doesn't help that many people inevitably ascribe stereotypical attributes to people from certain regions of the country. Vermonters are rural-dwelling tree-huggers who love the simple life, Rhode Islanders tawk funny (well, that one happens to be true in my case), Oregonians know about rain, Southerners are rednecks, New Yorkers are brash, Coloradans love to ski, mid-Westerners are boring and predictable, Alaskans kill bears in their leisure time, etc. Enough already! The minute I do tell people where I'm from, they will immediately associate me with a characteristic that more than likely won't be accurate.
So I am open to suggestions on how to answer this query. It's gotta be short and pithy. I can't tolerate (nor, undoubtedly, can the listener) a long drawn out explanation of my Happily Homeless lifestyle. And nothing too touchy feely, either. I'm not about to respond by saying things like, "My home is where my friends are and they are all over the world," or "I reside in my husband's heart." These may be true, but we're not going there. "I live a location-independent lifestyle," sounds haughty and "I'm Happily Homeless," too cutesy. "I'm a nomad," conjures up images of camel treks across the desert and I'm way too fair-skinned for that.
I need a haikuesque-type response that conveys my current (lack of) living arrangement and since I've not managed to come up with one for my career, I figure the odds aren't good that I can produce something witty for this aspect of my life either. Anybody have any suggestions?
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Hurrying Up to Slow Down
So, we've been on the road for three days now. Notice the dearth of blog entries? That's because we've been freaking insanely busy!
Quick synopsis:
Left Portland on Monday noon, after indulging in our first "Happily Homeless" kiss in the driveway immediately upon surrendering the keys to our (former) home. Ravenous, we made it a whopping 20 miles down the road before we stopped to eat lunch at a fabulous, authentic Chinese restaurant. Okay, Location Independent Living cannot mean that we eat like this every day, or I will weigh 400 pounds.
Three hours later, we arrived at the home of the folks for whom we will be housesitting from late June til mid August. Loved the couple, loved the dogs, loved the house and loved the area. Also loved the elderly mom, who will be staying in her own wing of the house while we are there and upon whom we will look in on from time to time. Delightful lady! I can't wait to hear her stories. (I'll probably drive her crazy!) Homeowners took us our for dinner. Mexican. More great food. Note to self: yogurt and salad tomorrow.
Said couple not only fed us, but gave us the use of their cozy apartment (about 45 minutes away from their house). Not two minutes into our stay, I managed to crash the lovely old suitcase stand that was there--you know, the ones that fold up and have three straps to hold the suitcase? Yeah, we'll those three straps are now toast, thanks to the weight of my carry on bag. Oh dear! Homeowners were gracious to a fault when I admitted my...ummm...clumsiness? negligence? stupidity?
After arriving at the apartment, and having been on the road or packing up the house for much of the day, we buckled down to manage our business. (Oh yeah--that!) We finish work around 10:30 PM.
Tuesday morning, we headed for Reno, after rejecting the Grand Tetons (too cold) and Vegas (too far out of the way). Ride was boring, boring, boring. Who knew there were so many effing trees between Oregon and Nevada? Eight hours of driving and I was ready to pull my hair out. On a more positive note, we figured out how to use the Ipod in the car, so did have some Bill Bryson to listen to for the last three hours.
Tuesday evening: crash at the Reno Day's Inn. Clean, quiet and a fridge and microwave in the room. free Wifi. all for $50 a night. I love Reno! We immediately set up Lyssabeth's World Headquarters and worked until 11 PM.
Wednesday: All hell breaks out in the wedding world. Brides decide they must book us. Now. We keep our noses to our respective grindstones in order to get all the contracts done. At noon, we step outside. It is sunny. We are not in Portland anymore, Dorothy. We slather on sunscreen and head for the casinos. Later, Jeremy goes for a walk and Maureen stays at the casino. Maureen loses money. Maureen now hates Reno.
And here it is Wednesday evening and tomorrow we are bound for Salt Lake City, then for Hotchkiss, CO, where we will get to spend some time with wedding officiant extraordinaire Sunshine Knight, show serves our Western Slope couples. Then, on to Denver to visit the kids and squeeze the grandchildren.
So, ummmm...when does the slow life start?
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Quick synopsis:
Left Portland on Monday noon, after indulging in our first "Happily Homeless" kiss in the driveway immediately upon surrendering the keys to our (former) home. Ravenous, we made it a whopping 20 miles down the road before we stopped to eat lunch at a fabulous, authentic Chinese restaurant. Okay, Location Independent Living cannot mean that we eat like this every day, or I will weigh 400 pounds.
Three hours later, we arrived at the home of the folks for whom we will be housesitting from late June til mid August. Loved the couple, loved the dogs, loved the house and loved the area. Also loved the elderly mom, who will be staying in her own wing of the house while we are there and upon whom we will look in on from time to time. Delightful lady! I can't wait to hear her stories. (I'll probably drive her crazy!) Homeowners took us our for dinner. Mexican. More great food. Note to self: yogurt and salad tomorrow.
Said couple not only fed us, but gave us the use of their cozy apartment (about 45 minutes away from their house). Not two minutes into our stay, I managed to crash the lovely old suitcase stand that was there--you know, the ones that fold up and have three straps to hold the suitcase? Yeah, we'll those three straps are now toast, thanks to the weight of my carry on bag. Oh dear! Homeowners were gracious to a fault when I admitted my...ummm...clumsiness? negligence? stupidity?
After arriving at the apartment, and having been on the road or packing up the house for much of the day, we buckled down to manage our business. (Oh yeah--that!) We finish work around 10:30 PM.
Tuesday evening: crash at the Reno Day's Inn. Clean, quiet and a fridge and microwave in the room. free Wifi. all for $50 a night. I love Reno! We immediately set up Lyssabeth's World Headquarters and worked until 11 PM.
Wednesday: All hell breaks out in the wedding world. Brides decide they must book us. Now. We keep our noses to our respective grindstones in order to get all the contracts done. At noon, we step outside. It is sunny. We are not in Portland anymore, Dorothy. We slather on sunscreen and head for the casinos. Later, Jeremy goes for a walk and Maureen stays at the casino. Maureen loses money. Maureen now hates Reno.
 |
| They took all my money! |
And here it is Wednesday evening and tomorrow we are bound for Salt Lake City, then for Hotchkiss, CO, where we will get to spend some time with wedding officiant extraordinaire Sunshine Knight, show serves our Western Slope couples. Then, on to Denver to visit the kids and squeeze the grandchildren.
So, ummmm...when does the slow life start?
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Buying Stuff Thoughtfully
Let me set the record straight. I am not globally against "stuff". In fact, some stuff is great stuff. Where would the world be without the automobile, dental floss or the Slap Chop? I myself own two of the three. And while I do roll my eyes at excessive consumerism and eschew the annual onslaught of Christmas presents and yes, I won't set foot inside a Walmart, nonetheless, I do have to admit that everyone has a right to determine how much stuff they want cluttering up their lives. If a person's debt-ridden credit cards require them to work 50 hours a week at a job that they hate, then that's their business. If another's raison d'etre is to acquire the best gadgets that money can by (even at the expense of enriching social experiences) then who am I to judge? And it's certainly not my place to comment on the tendency of people in this country to drive rather than walk to the local store for their gallon of fat free milk and a corn syrup-laden snack to tide them over.
Okay, that's crap. I do judge, I do comment and for the love of God, put down that sugar-laden soft drink and go for a walk, why don't ya?
Grouse as I may, everyone wants a certain level of stuff in their lives, and I must come to terms that everyone's definition of minimalism is not the same as mine. Okay, so I'm a work in progress so don't judge. (Apparently, that's my role, anyway.)
The one thing I've discovered in this quest to simplify is how it has changed my own shopping habits (Es tu, Brute? Yes, I shop) and in ways I never expected. I knew I would become more invested in the quality of the products I buy. Therefore, I anticipated that I'd spend more money for certain things. What I didn't realize was just how much time thoughtful buying takes. Holy moly, this could easily become a part-time job!
It all started with backpacks. No, actually it started with the computer. I already have a laptop, but Jeremy's desktop computer was going to have to be replaced by something portable if a mobile (a.k.a. lighter) lifestyle was our goal. Once he did the research (how much time that took, I have no idea) and purchased the computer, we were then confronted with the best way to carry the thing. And then there was my beat up briefcase style laptop bag--fine for the short jaunts of my past life, but wholly unsuitable for the nomadic lifestyle of my not too distant future.
Enter the hunt for the backpacks. For me, it had to be lightweight, be classified as a "personal item" per TSA regulations, have ample padding to protect the computer, have straps that didn't dig into my delicate flesh, and it has to hold a TON of crap. It had to be stylish, last-forever sturdy, easy to clean and a pretty color wouldn't hurt either.
Jeremy's backpack had to exhibit much of the above, but it also had to serve as his "man-purse" that he totes nearly everywhere and since he also actually hikes, the backpack had to fill that role as well. So, ventilation was important.
I'll spare you all the gory details, but it took us over week to find my backpack and Jeremy still doesn't have one. There have been countless trips to REI, the weighing of the pros and cons, hours of online research and the purchasing and subsequent returning of items that didn't make the cut after all. I have ended up with a North Face Overhaul which in spite of its lumberjack-sounding name meets most of my requirements (with its dull brown color, it does not rate a Perfect 10, but everything else is there).
We've learned that when one simplifies, one gets very persnickety and thoughtful about those products that one does buy. And the more purposes one item can serve, the better. Try going up to the shoe salesman at REI and telling him you want a comfortable shoe that serves as sneaker, hiking boot and day shoe. It must look good with pants and skirts and oh by the way, I wear a size 10 1/2 (virtually unheard of in women's shoe sizes). See where that gets ya. Hint: let's just say I walked out without making a shoe purchase.
Jeremy has ended up buying a real man-purse (oh excuse me, I believe the PC term is "day pack"). I liked it so much, I decided to ditch my lady-purse and buy a similar one for myself. And he did pick up a protective computer sleeve for his laptop. So he has the backpack accessories, it's just that he has yet to find the backpack with which he has the perfect first date chemistry.
It's a process that apparently cannot be hurried.
This would be little more than an amusing story if it didn't apply to all of the following that we have either purchased or sought to purchase in the past three weeks:
In the past, my shopping strategy has been more of need it, find it, buy it. I've never been a social shopper. If it was a big ticket item, then I'd do my research and then, without much agonizing, buy the product. But now it feels as though every item is big ticket. It has to be compact, be multi-purpose, be made to last, be environmentally friendly and it really should be made in the USA (although adherence to this last criterion has been difficult).
I guess this is what being a thoughtful consumer means--taking the time to get it right the first time. I'm hoping it will save money, resources and time in the long run as these items shouldn't have to be replaced for a long time. But the initial time investment is astounding! I thought simplifying was supposed to give me more time, not suck it up reading reviews on Amazon, trying on 37 pairs of black pants to get the exact perfect pair, and buying and returning things all over town.
My God! I'm acting like a shopaholic!
Hopefully this phase will be over soon and my "spare time" will be more like I envision: having cocktails in the tiki hut with my husband in the early evening while we toast our good fortune and cast aspersions on those who spend too much time watching TV and shopping.
But for now, (Gulp!) you can find me at the mall.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Okay, that's crap. I do judge, I do comment and for the love of God, put down that sugar-laden soft drink and go for a walk, why don't ya?
Grouse as I may, everyone wants a certain level of stuff in their lives, and I must come to terms that everyone's definition of minimalism is not the same as mine. Okay, so I'm a work in progress so don't judge. (Apparently, that's my role, anyway.)
The one thing I've discovered in this quest to simplify is how it has changed my own shopping habits (Es tu, Brute? Yes, I shop) and in ways I never expected. I knew I would become more invested in the quality of the products I buy. Therefore, I anticipated that I'd spend more money for certain things. What I didn't realize was just how much time thoughtful buying takes. Holy moly, this could easily become a part-time job!
It all started with backpacks. No, actually it started with the computer. I already have a laptop, but Jeremy's desktop computer was going to have to be replaced by something portable if a mobile (a.k.a. lighter) lifestyle was our goal. Once he did the research (how much time that took, I have no idea) and purchased the computer, we were then confronted with the best way to carry the thing. And then there was my beat up briefcase style laptop bag--fine for the short jaunts of my past life, but wholly unsuitable for the nomadic lifestyle of my not too distant future.
Enter the hunt for the backpacks. For me, it had to be lightweight, be classified as a "personal item" per TSA regulations, have ample padding to protect the computer, have straps that didn't dig into my delicate flesh, and it has to hold a TON of crap. It had to be stylish, last-forever sturdy, easy to clean and a pretty color wouldn't hurt either.
Jeremy's backpack had to exhibit much of the above, but it also had to serve as his "man-purse" that he totes nearly everywhere and since he also actually hikes, the backpack had to fill that role as well. So, ventilation was important.
I'll spare you all the gory details, but it took us over week to find my backpack and Jeremy still doesn't have one. There have been countless trips to REI, the weighing of the pros and cons, hours of online research and the purchasing and subsequent returning of items that didn't make the cut after all. I have ended up with a North Face Overhaul which in spite of its lumberjack-sounding name meets most of my requirements (with its dull brown color, it does not rate a Perfect 10, but everything else is there).
We've learned that when one simplifies, one gets very persnickety and thoughtful about those products that one does buy. And the more purposes one item can serve, the better. Try going up to the shoe salesman at REI and telling him you want a comfortable shoe that serves as sneaker, hiking boot and day shoe. It must look good with pants and skirts and oh by the way, I wear a size 10 1/2 (virtually unheard of in women's shoe sizes). See where that gets ya. Hint: let's just say I walked out without making a shoe purchase.
Jeremy has ended up buying a real man-purse (oh excuse me, I believe the PC term is "day pack"). I liked it so much, I decided to ditch my lady-purse and buy a similar one for myself. And he did pick up a protective computer sleeve for his laptop. So he has the backpack accessories, it's just that he has yet to find the backpack with which he has the perfect first date chemistry.
It's a process that apparently cannot be hurried.
This would be little more than an amusing story if it didn't apply to all of the following that we have either purchased or sought to purchase in the past three weeks:
- Hiking boots (Jeremy)
- Tennis shoes (Maureen and Jeremy)
- Cosmetic case (Maureen)
- Plastic TSA-compliant squeeze bottles
- Air mattresses
- Pants (Maureen and Jeremy)
- Jackets (Maureen and Jeremy)
- Suitcases and the assorted paraphernalia that accompanies them to make one's packing life easier
- Plastic storage boxes
- Camera (Jeremy)
- iPhone (Maureen)
- Wallet/passport holder (Maureen)
- Shampoo bars (as an aside--who knew there was such a thing? There is! A bar of shampoo to avoid the whole "flying with liquids in your carry-on" issue)
- A couple of scarves to jazz up my mostly black travel wardrobe (Maureen)
In the past, my shopping strategy has been more of need it, find it, buy it. I've never been a social shopper. If it was a big ticket item, then I'd do my research and then, without much agonizing, buy the product. But now it feels as though every item is big ticket. It has to be compact, be multi-purpose, be made to last, be environmentally friendly and it really should be made in the USA (although adherence to this last criterion has been difficult).
I guess this is what being a thoughtful consumer means--taking the time to get it right the first time. I'm hoping it will save money, resources and time in the long run as these items shouldn't have to be replaced for a long time. But the initial time investment is astounding! I thought simplifying was supposed to give me more time, not suck it up reading reviews on Amazon, trying on 37 pairs of black pants to get the exact perfect pair, and buying and returning things all over town.
My God! I'm acting like a shopaholic!
Hopefully this phase will be over soon and my "spare time" will be more like I envision: having cocktails in the tiki hut with my husband in the early evening while we toast our good fortune and cast aspersions on those who spend too much time watching TV and shopping.
But for now, (Gulp!) you can find me at the mall.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Beige people say the darndest things!
Before I write this, I must confess that I do have a string of bigotry in me toward one segment of the population. Yes, me--the proponent of marriage equality, religious tolerance, equal pay for equal work, color-blindness, live and let live, bleeding heart liberal that I am--I own it. I have a definite bias against the Beige People. BPs (a.k.a. the Vanilla People) are those who blindly follow the herd, never question anything, don't take any kind of a risk and are content to sit in their (usually) oatmeal-colored houses night after night, after putting in a grinding eight hours at the office (in order to pay for the gas for their off-white SUVs), plopped comatose in front of their TV.
Beige People seldom take vacations and when they do, they prefer organized tours where everything is done for them and all the popular tourist spots are on the agenda. Travel off the beaten path and chat with a local? (Don't be ridiculous; those people don't even speak English!) Venture out and try some street food? (Are you kidding me? I'll be up with the trots all night!) BPs never voluntarily act outside of their comfort zone and if a situation is thrust upon them that catapults them out of said comfort zone, they make damn sure they skedaddle back inside the box as soon as humanly possible.
Not sure you're a BP? (Hint, if you have to ask, I regretfully tell you that you probably are.) Use the following as the definitive test:
If you're at a party and you don't know anyone (okay, this is not the best example, as a BP probably wouldn't even GO to a party where they didn't know anyone) and the only topics you can think of to converse on are*
Okay, that disclaimer took longer than I thought it would, but I wanted to forewarn any of my BP readers that they should stop reading if their beige skin can't take the heat of a little ribbing.
I gotta tell ya, BPs have been great for comic relief in this adventure of ours. We met a lot of BPs at our recent moving sale. We also met several kindred spirit rainbow people, but I've already written about them. Here is a peek into one of the more humorous conversations held by Jeremy and me with a typical bargain-lovin', garage-sale hoppin' BP.
BP: "So, you're having a moving sale. Where are you moving to?"
Us: "We're not moving "to" anywhere. We're going to travel exclusively."
BP: "Oh, you have an RV?"
Us: "No. No RV. We're simply going to travel."
BP (looking puzzled): "What do you mean?"
Us: "We mean we're going to hit the road and see the world."
BP (looking relieved): "Ah, so you are going to buy an RV."
Us: "No. No RV. We're simply going to travel."
BP: "How?"
Us: "By car, boat, plane, train, our feet...whatever."
BP: "Travel where?"
Us: "Wherever we want."
BP; "Then what?"
Us: "Then we'll travel some more."
BP (totally flummoxed): "But where will your home be?"
Us: "We won't have one."
BP: "That is ridiculous. Where will you get your mail?"
Us: "We don't get much mail, as we do most things online and we remove ourselves from junk mail lists immediately. Any mail we do get will go to our daughter's home."
BP: "Oh, so you're moving in with your kids." This said with a look of pity as they finally figure out that the reason we must be doing this is because we've fallen on hard times. (Note: it's not and we haven't)
Us: "No, we're not moving in with our kids, although we hope to visit them more often."
BP: "In an RV?"
Us: (sighing): "No. NOT IN A FREAKING RV!"
BP: "So, you're retiring young?"
Us: "No, we'll continue to run our business remotely from the road."
BP: "You don't have a boss?"
Us: "Nope."
BP: (looking envious): "Wow. I wish I had me my own business. I'd like not having a boss. Is that something I could make good money at? Say, by next Monday, so I could give my two week notice?"
Us: "Probably not that fast. We've been building the business for nearly ten years and have worked on making it location-independent for the last two."
BP: "Oh, forget it then. That sounds like too much work and I might have to miss American Idol. So, this travel thing--is this just for a few months?"
Us: "We have no time frame, but we expect it to be much longer than that."
BP: "And then what?"
Us: "And then we might stop traveling."
BP: "So, you're putting most of your furniture in storage in case this doesn't work out?"
Us: "No, we're not that attached to our stuff, so we're getting rid of all but a few mementos. Everything we keep will need to fit in our car."
BP: (bug eyed): "Seriously? Even the TV?"
Us: "Yes, well, getting rid of the TV is no big deal as we only used it about once a week to watch streaming movies anyway."
Awkward pause while BP digests this new bit of crazy talk, trying desperately to think of what to say next to this couple who is obviously two beers short of a six pack.
BP: (brightening): "Hey! Since you're looking for places to travel to, I've got a suggestion."
Us: "Oh?"
BP: "Mexico"
Us: "You've been? What part?"
BP: "Hell, no, not me! We take our annual two week vacation to my wife's cousin's place out at Lake Tippetongwa. Real nice. Great fishin' great eats, great beer. And they have premium cable. But I hear tell that there Port-oh Vayarta is great! They have packages where you don't even have to leave the hotel. Everything is included--your food, your drink, your room, even the nightly entertainment!"
Us: "Errr....Great! Thanks for the tip."
BP: (warming up to us now that we've found common ground): "Yeah, and there's a sale down at Nordstrom's on cruise-wear--50% off! You know, in case you're prone to hop on one of those Royal Caribbean all-inclusives."
Us: (biting the insides of our cheeks until they bleed): "Alrighty then, good to know."
BP: "And if you ever change your minds, I've got an uncle that sells reconditioned RV's. Tell him Chuck sent you. He'll fix you up with a sweet deal. And speaking of deals, how much do you want for your TV? We need a fourth one to put in the guest room?"
*Talking about one of these topics briefly at said hypothetical party is acceptable and does not necessarily make you a BP, as long as the rest of your topics are a bit more creative. However, you will want to be cautious of morphing into a full fledged BP and should be hyper vigilant in this regard.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Beige People seldom take vacations and when they do, they prefer organized tours where everything is done for them and all the popular tourist spots are on the agenda. Travel off the beaten path and chat with a local? (Don't be ridiculous; those people don't even speak English!) Venture out and try some street food? (Are you kidding me? I'll be up with the trots all night!) BPs never voluntarily act outside of their comfort zone and if a situation is thrust upon them that catapults them out of said comfort zone, they make damn sure they skedaddle back inside the box as soon as humanly possible.
Not sure you're a BP? (Hint, if you have to ask, I regretfully tell you that you probably are.) Use the following as the definitive test:
If you're at a party and you don't know anyone (okay, this is not the best example, as a BP probably wouldn't even GO to a party where they didn't know anyone) and the only topics you can think of to converse on are*
- the weather
- your kids/grandkids
- the latest episode of American Idol
- the mall
- the price of gas
Okay, that disclaimer took longer than I thought it would, but I wanted to forewarn any of my BP readers that they should stop reading if their beige skin can't take the heat of a little ribbing.
I gotta tell ya, BPs have been great for comic relief in this adventure of ours. We met a lot of BPs at our recent moving sale. We also met several kindred spirit rainbow people, but I've already written about them. Here is a peek into one of the more humorous conversations held by Jeremy and me with a typical bargain-lovin', garage-sale hoppin' BP.
BP: "So, you're having a moving sale. Where are you moving to?"
Us: "We're not moving "to" anywhere. We're going to travel exclusively."
BP: "Oh, you have an RV?"
Us: "No. No RV. We're simply going to travel."
BP (looking puzzled): "What do you mean?"
Us: "We mean we're going to hit the road and see the world."
BP (looking relieved): "Ah, so you are going to buy an RV."
Us: "No. No RV. We're simply going to travel."
BP: "How?"
Us: "By car, boat, plane, train, our feet...whatever."
BP: "Travel where?"
Us: "Wherever we want."
BP; "Then what?"
Us: "Then we'll travel some more."
BP (totally flummoxed): "But where will your home be?"
Us: "We won't have one."
BP: "That is ridiculous. Where will you get your mail?"
Us: "We don't get much mail, as we do most things online and we remove ourselves from junk mail lists immediately. Any mail we do get will go to our daughter's home."
BP: "Oh, so you're moving in with your kids." This said with a look of pity as they finally figure out that the reason we must be doing this is because we've fallen on hard times. (Note: it's not and we haven't)
Us: "No, we're not moving in with our kids, although we hope to visit them more often."
BP: "In an RV?"
Us: (sighing): "No. NOT IN A FREAKING RV!"
BP: "So, you're retiring young?"
Us: "No, we'll continue to run our business remotely from the road."
BP: "You don't have a boss?"
Us: "Nope."
BP: (looking envious): "Wow. I wish I had me my own business. I'd like not having a boss. Is that something I could make good money at? Say, by next Monday, so I could give my two week notice?"
Us: "Probably not that fast. We've been building the business for nearly ten years and have worked on making it location-independent for the last two."
BP: "Oh, forget it then. That sounds like too much work and I might have to miss American Idol. So, this travel thing--is this just for a few months?"
Us: "We have no time frame, but we expect it to be much longer than that."
BP: "And then what?"
Us: "And then we might stop traveling."
BP: "So, you're putting most of your furniture in storage in case this doesn't work out?"
Us: "No, we're not that attached to our stuff, so we're getting rid of all but a few mementos. Everything we keep will need to fit in our car."
BP: (bug eyed): "Seriously? Even the TV?"
Us: "Yes, well, getting rid of the TV is no big deal as we only used it about once a week to watch streaming movies anyway."
Awkward pause while BP digests this new bit of crazy talk, trying desperately to think of what to say next to this couple who is obviously two beers short of a six pack.
BP: (brightening): "Hey! Since you're looking for places to travel to, I've got a suggestion."
Us: "Oh?"
BP: "Mexico"
Us: "You've been? What part?"
BP: "Hell, no, not me! We take our annual two week vacation to my wife's cousin's place out at Lake Tippetongwa. Real nice. Great fishin' great eats, great beer. And they have premium cable. But I hear tell that there Port-oh Vayarta is great! They have packages where you don't even have to leave the hotel. Everything is included--your food, your drink, your room, even the nightly entertainment!"
Us: "Errr....Great! Thanks for the tip."
BP: (warming up to us now that we've found common ground): "Yeah, and there's a sale down at Nordstrom's on cruise-wear--50% off! You know, in case you're prone to hop on one of those Royal Caribbean all-inclusives."
Us: (biting the insides of our cheeks until they bleed): "Alrighty then, good to know."
BP: "And if you ever change your minds, I've got an uncle that sells reconditioned RV's. Tell him Chuck sent you. He'll fix you up with a sweet deal. And speaking of deals, how much do you want for your TV? We need a fourth one to put in the guest room?"
*Talking about one of these topics briefly at said hypothetical party is acceptable and does not necessarily make you a BP, as long as the rest of your topics are a bit more creative. However, you will want to be cautious of morphing into a full fledged BP and should be hyper vigilant in this regard.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
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