It was Tex who got us into RV-ing. She bought our little TAB camper at the height of the pandemic and got us hooked up with RV-ing Women, a group mostly made up of lesbians on the older and/or retired side, with their dogs and various kinds of rigs; with their personalities and opinions and histories. We started going to rallies together, and then, when I was in Japan last month, Tex went on her own and had a great time. So great that she blithely signed up to co-host the Maine rally, the one everybody raves about, I think mostly because of the lobster feed, but also because it’s lovely up there.
On Friday of the rally, Tex was off wheeling and dealing, making plans A, B, and C, dependent on the very changeable weather. I stayed in to do an after-lunch clean up (my asking price: one kiss, freely and sweetly given). As I tidied the very wee space that is our very wee camper, I caught myself smiling a happy, quiet smile.
It’s a lovely feeling to be able to make everything ship-shape in just a small amount of time, to show respect and love to our little rolly home, making it cozy for the two of us so we can enjoy the campground, the flora and fauna, the surrounds, our sister RV-ers, each other.
Outside, birdsong, raucous dyke laughter chipmunk scurry, the breeze in the trees.
Inside, a brief but deeply satisfying order.
Ahhhh.
This sweet feeling is a very rare occurence back in our rambly, jumbly big ol’ house.
Oh my blueberry smoothie salt water taffy totally scrumptious femme biscuits, do you, like me, sometimes utterly despair of being able to make headway in your rambly, jumbly dwellings? Did you ever fantasize about having to live somewhere like a lighthouse or a teensy cottage in the forest where whatever is there is what you get and then you can actually finish something before other things pile up and demand attention?
Like me, do you get distracted by history, failed good intentions, unpleasant surprises coming over the email or phone, other people’s needs and asks, work and health and family and and and to where you just need to sit down with your book and a cup of tea and dust bunnies and piles of things be damned?
If so, and even if you don’t have a husbutch who brought a camper into your life, perhaps there is another little space where you can have your way with clutter and experience a nip of satisfaction. And other ways you can give yourself some boundaries: set the timer for 5 minutes, maybe 15, and focus on a drawer or a patch of yard or a cupboard. Don’t think too hard.
We can’t fix all of everything, and if you’re like me – an ever-optimistic, magical thinker of a femme pack rat – dismay about our helplessness can be a great burden.
A small corner where it’s shiny, at least for a bit, radiates out, calms and sweetens.
Let’s keep each other company today, my darlings.
Grounded.
Grateful.
Glad to be here.
Many a Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women. Would you like to offer up a Meditation of your own? I would love that! Send it along to me at thetotatalfemme@gmail.com