New Normals

I’m still not sure I like this “zero gravity” chair. It goes from zero to sixty and I’d like to meander closer to the forty mark. Perhaps I need to work on my balance. Every posh camper seems to have them. So I bought one. But I am not yet seeing the appeal. What I want is my living room chaise, which I could stretch out on with adequate lumbar support and a set of cool Olivia paw pads touching my leg. But that–among all of my other furniture from Florida–has been relegated to new owners. So that I can live out of an RV for a month while I migrate northward to my Tennessee home. I suppose it’s a worthy tradeoff.

I am on day three at Blythe Island, part of the “Golden Isles” of Georgia coastline. Jekyll Island, Brunswick, St. Simons Island… Isles abundant with life: coastal waters fueled by nutrient-rich, deep blue tributaries that flow in lazy S-shapes between never-ending fields of purple- and green-hued salt marsh. I know: it’s a lot of adjectives. But I can’t seem to find a way to tone down my descriptions of the abundance of beauty here.

I sit (or lay?) in this weird chair sipping Ferrari Carano Chardonnay — the epitome of “glamping,” really, with my air-conditioned trailer and my cable and WiFi internet access and my daily complimentary laundry service (KIDDING)–after a full day of exploration of St. Simons Island by bicycle, swimming and lounging in the Atlantic (and releasing a ghost crab whose bad luck caused it to wander into a redneck family’s picnic area and landed it in a red plastic bucket for over an hour while i glowered with rage in the near distance until finally releasing it to the ocean when the family wandered out for a swim)–at the East Beach off Ocean Drive, and finally, back “home,” with a short afternoon swim and paddle on Lake Cindee. Took me about an hour to paddle around its shores, starting at the swimming beach and then winding through a narrow channel underneath the little bridge that I have come to know as “my backyard bridge” since it’s just a 30-second walk from the back entrance of Junebug’s site in this gorgeous campground.

This stupid chair. For being zero gravity, it sure does seem to be weighted down on the front end. I should have sold it to that person on OfferUp for $15.

Today is my one-week anniversary of living on the road. Of living in nature. Of being in a totally and completely new element (more than one, really). And with all of these new ventures, I find one thing to be true: home really is where the heart is. And your kitties. I dig the woods, and the beach. And as long as I have access to my family and friends, WiFi for work, places to walk, bike, and paddle, and the cool air conditioning of Junebug, I can’t think of much else that I really, truly need. Well, pizza, of course. And chocolate cake. And a cold glass of good chard every now and again. Okay, so I like some of the things that might not typically be associated with living on the road… But the POINT is, I’m thrilled just to be here. To be getting used to this “new normal.” I’m sure that in another three weeks, when I arrive at my beloved cabin in the Smokies, I’ll be grateful to be there. But for now, I’m good. I’m liking this new normal.