My husband and I live in an RV. Let’s just start by saying that RVs are not meant to live in. They are designed for temporary, short-term convenience. This is why they have a cute little stove, a cute little fridge, a cute little sink, and a cute little bathroom. They have plastic sinks, plastic faucets, plastic toilets. Cute doesn’t get you very far when you have to use it every day. Not just for weekends, but for weeks on end.
RVs are not insulated to handle sub-zero temperatures, so extraordinary measures must be taken to have a modicum of comfort in Northern winters. The RV must be skirted. (The City planner told us that this presents a whole new fire hazard. Great.) Windows must be covered with plastic on the outside and heavy drapes on the inside. Anything that carries water must be heat-taped and insulated. Drafts must be searched out and eliminated, no matter how small.
We must choose how we will react to the everyday and occasional challenges that will come our way. This is a stressful way to live. Nothing can be taken for granted anymore. Will the toilet work today? Will the water freeze up? Will we run out of propane in the midst of fixing dinner, or worse yet, in the middle of the night? We plan for everything possible, and then decide on strategies to lighten the stress…anything from silly responses to taking a walk or a drive.
I read a story about a family that decided to call any complaining or grumbling by the word murmuring, because it sounds like murmurmur…and whenever someone started to complain, the rest of the family would start saying murmurmur. It got them giggling every time, especially if they caught Dad at it.
We try breaking up the routine. We live dangerously…we change the menu, change the blankets, change the seating arrangement, but we change something. Sameness is our enemy.
Some of the pros and cons:
You cannot fit everything you own in the RV. No Possible Way.
You cannot fit more than a few days’ worth of food in the fridge or cupboards. You must shop more often, and look for smaller-size everything, from ketchup bottles to cracker boxes to cleaners and shampoo.
You cannot leave the water running while you take a shower. You have a 6-gallon water heater.
You can prepare a meal and turn around, without taking a step, and set it on the table.
You can clean the floor in two minutes flat.
You can learn how much stuff you can live without and never miss.
You can learn what you absolutely must have.
You can learn how much togetherness (and stumbling over each other) you and your spouse/family can take.
You may learn that a little humor goes a long way.
You may learn a whole new meaning/dimension of kindness, patience, forgiveness, prayer, and love.
Our RV experience has taught us a lot about ourselves. We’ve been here in Sidney four months, and sometimes it seems like four years. We’ve decided to make our relationship the priority and not the side-effect. We’re learning to let it all unfold as it will, and getting better at enjoying each day as it comes.
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