Tuesday, 10 February 2015

Beautiful.;..but Difficult

It occurred to me that I haven't written a lot about living in the van lately.  That's because there isn't much to tell. Aside from less space there's no huge difference to living in a house, most of the time that is.  I cook study, parent, read, entertain friends, sleep.....all the things that I did in a brick built home.  
I'm sometimes reminded that it's not quite the same. With a drastic temperature drop overnight in the early hours of Sunday morning, the motorhome dumped the contents of its tank.  So I had no water yesterday morning. The outside tap was frozen too so I couldn't even fill the kettle. I've now sussed the procedure so that the next time it happens it won't be a big deal.  I've also added 2 x 5 litre  water canisters to the kit on board to use as emergency rations.  Never again will I be in a situation where I have to forego that life giving early morning cuppa.
Salty Dog came by last night, stir crazy from setting up her new business and seeking respite in my rural neck of the woods.   We ate most of the contents of the fridge and drank Prosecco on a school night. And we helped Louis with his homework, analysing 'Blessing' by Imtiaz Dharker.    Thought provoking but way trickier than anything that I had to unravel at the age of eleven.
The skin cracks like a pod.
There never is enough water.
Imagine the drip of it,
the small splash, echo
in a tin mug,
the voice of a kindly god.
Sometimes, the sudden rush
of fortune. The municipal pipe bursts,
silver crashes to the ground
and the flow has found
a roar of tongues. From the huts,
a congregation : every man woman
child for streets around
butts in, with pots,
brass, copper, aluminium,
plastic buckets,
frantic hands,
and naked children
screaming in the liquid sun,
their highlights polished to perfection,
flashing light,
as the blessing sings
over their small bones.


  1. I found my children's (now 28 26 18) schooling so much harder especially the 18 yr olds, her brothers were astonished at how much homework she had to deal with. but I have to say the student/teacher relationship and surroundings were so fabulous in comparison (ahem the 70s) I know I would have enjoyed it more and had better results. They went to the same school as did and I found some old teachers still there (which was interesting) and watched the school 'grow'. My biggest regret tho is that none of my kids know any history except ww2.
    (If the worst happens I will be living in a mobile home but that's a whole 'nother story so I read your adventures with interest).

    1. Thanks for your words..If the worst happens then there's more desperate states that you could be in than living in a mobile home. I've found this extreme downsizing lark strangely liberating in all sorts of different ways. x

  2. I'm relieved to hear that you now know what to do next time if it happens again!

  3. Love my first mug of coffee in the morning, couldn't get started without it.