Tag: minimalist

Mr Jiggles… a Childhood Memory

When I was a very young child, I am guessing 4 or 5, we had an old black man who lived in a small little shack situated on the edge of the drainage canal by the truck yard. I remember he seemed quite small compared to other adults I knew, and in Baltimore, in the late 60’s, the fact that he was a black man in a predominately white neighborhood, stood out more than anything.

Mr Jiggles was a kind old man and would sit on his porch swing in the heat and humidity of a summer evening and play his harmonica. The sound of the harmonica would drift over the sound of the traffic from the main street. Beside his house he had an old truck tire full of dirt that he grew tomatoes in. I remember he would wonder up and down the alleyway selling them for 5 cents a piece. Maybe that is how he made a living since I can’t ever remember a time when he wasn’t sitting on his porch swing.

The memories of a child. The tainted memories from an era of hatred and bigotry, instilled on me by the adults I looked up to.

Mr Jiggles… now that I look back… had a very hard life. My memories of him are nothing more that those mentioned above. If I was to meet this kind sole today, I wonder if I would have the same impressions of this gentle little man? Would I pity him? His life was simple… yet incredibly hard… but he always seemed happy.

The last memory I have of Mr Jiggles was a city crew tearing down his little shack and chucking all the items from inside into a garbage truck. Mr Jiggles was gone… his music could still be heard late in the evening, on a humid summer night… if you sat still enough and listened.

Daily Prompt

via Daily Prompt: Jiggle

Stock photo from The West Virginia Gazette

The Artist’s House on The Sea

The third stop on our journey was The Artist’s House on The Sea, on Isla Colón. We packed up to head out from Un Puerto Particular via water taxi back to the main island of Colón. We notified Filberto of our arrival and planned to meet him at the dock at 13:00. Filberto said he would be driving a Kia Double Cab and wearing a leather hat. He said we wouldn’t be able to miss him. In Island time he showed, as planned, and he was wearing a top hat made of leather… no doubt he made it. He is an eccentric type of fella. His thick accent was easy to listen to. He carried himself well. On the short ride to our new home he told us a quick synopsis of his life. Recommended eating establishments and told us how to get about.

Upon arriving we entered a small mud path that was lined with garbage. He explained that the neighbor was piling it there to eventually claim the property for himself… some convoluted law about him using the property that eventually he could claim it as his own since the owner didn’t care to take care of it? We were getting used to seeing large garbage piles sitting about… this was not the act of nature but of man.

Shaking off the vision, we entered into Filberto’s domain. There was a small wood planked walkway that lead to a charming three story building. Once inside he showed us his works of art. He told us about building this house and his own house 300 mts off the main house. We have left Kansas Dorothy. The home was basically three large bedrooms with three baths and one stand-up shower on the main level. The bathroom on the second level has a shower that you sit on the toilet to use. The third floor bath is tucked away in a small slanted closet, good for children but an adult might find it difficult to use. The main level has the cooking area. Stove, shower, fridge, table and chairs and a small washing machine. Totally open to the world.

On each level there was an eclectic assortment of art work. Filberto gave us a tour and explained each one, where he found it or where his inspiration came from. His art was expressive and down right strange… but totally reflected his demeanor and personality. The more I watched him, listened to him and grew to respect his choice of lifestyle, I couldn’t shake my grandfathers image from my head.

He left us and departed to his home on the water in a small Zodiac inflatable boat… that no longer was inflated but served his purpose of traveling to his small home on The Sea. His home was now ours…

Day Two The Arival

It took twenty six hours to arrive in Bocas del Toro. We can’t really complain since it only cost $350 USD to get here flying first class all the way. Airline miles make most of our travels free but sometimes you have to take the available flights for the least amount of miles. Occasionally that means long layovers, getting in in the middle of the night and very little sleep. Another perk I would strongly recommend is a good credit card with perks like airline VIP club entrances. This really makes such long layovers more enjoyable instead of sitting in the terminal listening to the same announcements over and over. They allow you to have a private space, good food, free drinks and good WIFI.

After a total of about 4 11/2 hours of sleep we went to Nature Air for the final leg of our journey. There were 16 of us on a twenty seater prop plane. The wind had picked up and the thunder heads were building. The flight was quite bumpy as we flew our way between the fluffy clouds which gave the effect of flying a toy plane through a cotton candy machine.

We arrived safe and fashionably late… Island time. The immigration and customs was all in the same room and consisted of 2 old computers, a fingerprint machine and a guy who derived a bit of pleasure searching all you luggage, joking about what he found with his partner. When he was satisfied with all your belongings and was sure we weren’t gonna blow up the Island or smuggle in contraband he repackaged our items and sent us out of the room.

We went into the second room of the airport and were immediately inundated with taxi drivers wanting to take us to the town docks, arrange snorkeling and each vying to be our personal tour guides for our time in Bocas. Note: never take the first or second offer, the prices get a bit less by the third or forth guy.

TONY whisked us away in a taxi to a bar and restaurant right on the water arranged us a water taxi and told us he could arrange anything we needed for the rest of our trip. One thing to note about us… we don’t normally dig on “touristy things”, we’d rather experience wherever we are on it’s own terms. Exploring the people and customs. Trying to sniff out expats who live there. We find they generally will steer you to the local haunts and hook you up with a good local who will not take advantage of the gringos.

Welcome to Isla Sorte and Bambuda Lodge.

The Fear Factor

If anyone our age tells you that they are not afraid to do something new, give up everything they have, quit their job, sell their homes, cash out their retirement accounts and leave whatever family and friends they have, I’d say they are not centered in reality.

As human beings we resist change. People cling to religion because it is a constant in their lives. They stay in their homes till they die or they can no longer live alone.

We are at a jumping off point that is like jumping off a 700 foot cliff with a wing suit as safety equipment. Oh… and with no prior training. Do not hesitate. Yes websites, blogs, Facebook and many other publications exist that make this journey a bit more manageable… but the actual “doing” is scary as hell!

Twenty years ago even thinking about doing this would have been a daunting undertaking. Where do you start? Where is it safe to cross a border? Where is it safe to spend the night? What do you need to cross a border? The world was a huge unknown for the most part. The US state department made you so afraid to venture into other countries. As a visual learner, I find the task at hand much easier to comprehend. The how to exists out there. YouTube, Blog sites, Facebook pages for expats, AIRBNB, VRBO, where to go and how to manuals are everywhere.

When we were younger this would’ve been an absolute thrilling notion, like when we hit the road back in 1993/4. Cell phones were new on the market and very expensive (for what they were). IPads were a futuristic concept. Hell a portable laptop computer was even just a glimmer in someone’s imagination. We were kids… we threw caution to the wind and just did it. Ahhhh… for the innocence of youth…

This time we have so many options… some more fraught with danger than others. Could we be happy settling down in some mountain town in Ecuador, Columbia, Peru? Become beach bums in Nicaragua, Honduras, Belize, and Thailand? Travel the world from ‘point A to point B’ with no time limits? Will our vagabonding lifestyle be possible as planned? Best made plans are often laid to waist when put into action… still we continue to put one foot in front of the other. I continue to wake with butterflies in my stomach, that’s the “more mature age” jitters… The Fear Factor

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Introducing “Lucky”

When Chris and I decided to “hit the road”… we vacillated between flying to one destination, settling in for a short while… getting healthy and traveling out from a home-base. In October 2016, we bought a 1998 Toyota Land Cruiser and a light went off. Why not go Overlanding?  Drive down into Mexico and through all of Central America, west coast and back up the East Coast… and wherever the road takes us.

Some modifications needed to be done in order for this stock Land Cruiser to be road worthy in Central America. We started out with an ARB Sahara front bumper. Next came upgrading the headlights to a set of LEDs… don’t want to hit a cow in the middle of the night… Next came beefing up the suspension, not too radical after all we are a couple middle aged women and a short legged Corgi. We put on a full set of “KYB Excel-G Shocks”, beefed up the tie rod ends to “Proforged Chassis Parts Tie Rod Ends” and upgraded the tires to “Yokohama Geolander A/Ts” for a nice deep tread and strong sidewalls for off-roading… but not a noisy road tire.

How did she get her name?  She’s copper penny color… pennies are LUCKY…

Lucky will become our Adventure Cruzer. Still to come… a “Geo Adventure GT-180” fold out roof top tent with annex, interior build for storage… solar panel and backup deep cycle battery with an 800 watt power inverter for charging laptops, phones and running our “Edgestar 43 quart fridge“. A mounted lock box for securing personal items during travel. Off-road lights and an 8,000 lb winch. Two middle aged gals and a Corgi as the icing on the cake.

Dreaming BIG!!!

On Becoming a Minimalist

So the biggest challenge that faces us is liquidating everything we own. It is amazing to me that two people can collect so much “stuff”.  Our first house was 1300 sq. feet. It was two bedrooms and a living room and a kitchen… simple and never too cluttered.  As with the American dream, and the desire to pay as little to the Man as possible we moved into a 2600 sq. foot home. More rooms and more “stuff”. Our third home, the one we currently occupy, 6500 sq. feet and even more “stuff”. Lots and lots of “STUFF”. The bigger the space to more room to accumulate.

If you asked me to name two or three things I could not live without, I would tell you some trinket, object or maybe a favorite bed. Ask me what I would grab if my house burnt to the ground… I would answer my GF, dog and cat, and perhaps iPad and cell phone. Isn’t it sad that aside from living things I would probably rank my media devices over anything else. Actually my past 20 years is stored on those devices so it would be like my grandmother grabbing her family photos and memoirs. Of course we do have “the cloud” so these devices are actually just material items.

Last year we began to eliminate the clutter. Can I tell you how freeing it is! Just last weekend we filled two 50 gallon garbage cans just from one room in our house. We have donated clothes, blankets, pillows, and other miscellaneous sundries that have been gathering dust for years. We are down to just the bare needs in the kitchen. Our closet of clothes that once spilled into two walk in closets has shrunk into less than one. Of course a girl must have her shoes so it has been hard for Chris to part with those, even though she hasn’t worn them in years.

Our goal is to have everything we own fit into a 1998 Toyota Land Cruiser. Like a turtle our home will be on our backs. This is not our first rodeo, we’ve done this before in 1992-93 when we hit the road in a 24′ fifth wheel trailer for over 10 months. We traveled all over the USA until we ran out of money. This time we are MUCH older and wiser and have more “STUFF”. This time we will be gone for 10-15 years or longer, till death do us part… This time the emphasis will be on spiritual growth and the accumulation of memories rather than treasures.

“Hitting the Road”…What Exactly Does This Mean?

This is the post excerpt.

What a great question, and one I’ve asked myself many times. When I first thought about it I envisioned the three of us driving on the highways and byways of Mexico down to Panama, stopping at beaches and pitching our rooftop tent. Wake up in the morning and hit the road again… My mind just couldn’t wrap itself around the idea that we don’t have any place to be at any particular time. This is an alien thought to someone with a full time job and daily responsibilities. We call this idea a “vacation”… a bit of time set aside to go recreate somewhere away from home with a finite timeline.

For us it will be more of a vagabond lifestyle…with means. Belongings “on our back” or in our 1998 Land Cruiser and all the time in the world to explore destinations unknown to us for now. It will be a serious unwind from 25 years in the same business. Time to reflect on our finite existence in an undetermined amount of time…as much as it takes. To enjoy creature comforts as they present themselves, a hot shower, flush toilet, real bed, and depending on how long we’ve been on the road, people. Time enough to connect to our surroundings without the ever looming time crunch of a “vacation”. It will be a new lifestyle not set in any boundaries of time or space.

I can tell you when I originally mentioned this idea to Chris I scared myself. At first it will be hard to just relax. Then there are the unknowns, which actually is what adds spice to life and the journey, but is frightening. We’ve done it before but in a country where we felt “safe”…for some reason. With propaganda and warnings from our own government telling us it is not “safe” to travel out of our little cushy country, it makes it tough to not be looking over your shoulder.

There is no rule book. No instruction manual. No “How to for Idiots”. It’s like jumping off a pier with 100 lbs of weight strapped to your waist and having faith that you won’t sink straight to the bottom of the ocean. It’s a combination of faith mixed with a bit of crazy. There’s only one way to do it. JUST DO IT! Look forward and embrace the unknown.