 Dogwood blooms and rosemary from "the garden" I woke this morning to the construction going on beside us (park improvements). And though I could've lay there longer, I feared the wrecking ball (or something of similar size and capacity) might come through the tiny window in our tiny bedroom and send me to my eternal home (which will not be tiny). So I dragged my tired booty out of the bed from the warmth of my comforter and was greeted with a 56-degree reading on the thermometer...two degrees higher than the outdoor reading. But, hey, a flick of the switch and my chilly turned to toasty as the warmth rose from the floor vents beneath my size 9 slabs of ice (no building of a fire necessary!). Next order of business? Coffee, of course! This week has been a huge learning curve for this camping/tiny house novice. For someone who has never camped (well, except for the family vacation to Lost Horizon when I was a child) or lived in a tiny house, I've had to learn some things the hard way. Like how to duck your head in the right timing after hitting it on the kitchen shelf for the twentieth time. Or remembering to turn on the bathroom fan when showering to let out the humidity (very important I've learned for an RV). And reminding yourself every time you do dishes that you simply cannot splash around in a tiny sink like you did with your deep double-wide. But, hey, my sink is so darn cute! But, most of all, learning that camping folks are like family...they may show up unannounced at your door any time and fully expect you to throw open the door with great enthusiasm for the day. Needless to say, it's been a lesson in the art of camping.  Tiny is cute But in case you think it's been all concentrated learning and no serendipity, I'll remind you...it's the camping life! And I don't know of anyone who camps, whether you're like me - an RV kind of camping girl - or a die hard who only camps in tents with no electricity, who doesn't feel just a wee bit closer to nature and all its pleasurable offerings. You are ALWAYS in the great outdoors, and this is the beauty of the camping experience! There is absolutely not one camper here who doesn't want to be here. Well, I did see one young teenager who was trying to look dissatisfied as he rode in his grandfather's golf cart but I could tell he was doing his happy dance on the inside! Most people are sporting a huge grin, the kids are footloose and fancy free as they fly down the hill on their bikes, and the adults have a stress-free look on their faces that you simply cannot find on anyone in the city. You see folks sitting out around the campfire well into the late hours of the night, cooking food, laughing, making s'mores, and rising early the next morning to do it all over again. As I told one camper who was leaving the other day that I hoped he had a good week, he replied in his most ugh-ish voice: "Gotta go to work tomorrow." Poor fellow. I didn't tell him I have plans to be here six months. So here I sit in my tiny house in the great big woods once again putting my thoughts down on cyber paper, thinking Hey, I think I can do this... The forest with its glorious spring wonders is right outside my front door, the glistening lake can be seen from my window as I drink my morning coffee, and I've learned to embrace the smell of hickory smoke in my hair when I go to bed. One of my favorite things about his week? Not having cable yet. Yep, you heard me, no loud newscasts with politicians arguing, just me and the hubs sitting on our tiny sofa with a movie on the telly (luckily, Fixer Upper finished up their current season the week we moved!). Don't get me wrong, I've had my moments. Like when you stretch with your hands over your head and your fingers bong the ceiling, as you remember your nine-foot ceilings in your house and wonder if you can really and truly be contained in this little box for six whole months. You wonder if tiny living will make your brain tiny as well, as you struggle to find balance in such tight quarters. The verdict is definitely still out on that, and we'll see. But for now, I'll simply try to bloom where I'm planted like the wild dogwood outside my window and continue to count all my camping blessings. Except for the sore spot where I keep hitting my head. Gotta get a handle on that one... Happy Tuesday, friends!
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