THE DAY COMETH

You can go south in wintertime and you can imagine how much better it feels than up on the frosty summit but January is January. The only time I’ve ever been wrong about the January-July thing was in 2005 in Patagonia. If you want a memorable January-thing, when you cross the border you need to keep on crossing borders. When it is shady on the south side of the house you have gone far enough. I made a token effort this year and the result has been less than rewarding. South Texas is warmer than Southern Illinois but Padre and Mustang Islands have been cloaked in dense, cold fog and that just comes up short no matter how the ice is freezing on Lake Michigan. Point to be taken; if all you have to grumble about is cold weather then it would follow that your life must be pretty good. I’m not truly grumbling just reporting that plans for anything, not unlike the lottery, have their own center mass and follow their own compass. 

My little pop-up camper has done its best to keep us dry. Condensation accumulates and drips from the overhead. Unlike rain it doesn’t need a leaky seam or an open window. In the past I’ve camped by myself and space available has been adequate but certainly not abundant. With two of us, in January, nothing rests in the same place twice except for the two of us. When it goes dark and quiet in the camper it resembles ‘Once-upon-a-time’ the inside of my kid’s toy box after their mom made them put things away before bedtime cookies and milk. Last night we couldn’t find silverware and had to eat our salad with a small set of tongs. 

From the State Park on the beach to an RV Park 3 hours up the road retreat is running away, not something you want to admit. Still, our escape finds us warm and dry in the clubhouse. The shower this morning was with hotter than tepid water and we didn’t have to keep pressing the button to keep it running. I remember in November trying to anticipate this adventure, how far off it seemed. But I knew well enough that time flies and the day comes. When you pull out the driveway the day has cometh. So I’m sitting in a warm, dry place anticipating the day when I can make new sawdust in my wood shop; and that day will cometh in its own time.