So y'all know that I live in a magic bus in an RV park in the swamps of east Texas. You've read about my neighbors, Nan and Pap.
You've read about some of the pros of living in the magic bus, like simplifying our lives and the promise of minimal expenses once this bus is paid for. Also, it's a "high speed, low drag" kind of lifestyle, which is good. You've read about cons, like the ugly that surrounds me in the form of Carmela Soprano decor and the lack of space for all the shit Sunshine feels a need to keep here.
Now, I want to yell you about how living here is like living in a commune or some shit. It's things like Pap telling me to use his cart to get laundry to the washroom that make it seem like we're all in this together.
Or things like the night we had chili. Sunshine's sponsor lives here, too. He wanted to make chili with some ground venison one night. I requested tomato free chili. He agreed, since I already had a recipe and most of the ingredients. I was missing one onion. So my sponsor-in-law takes Sunshine's ground venison, my beans, spices, and garlic cloves, and Pap's last onion. The sponsor-in-law used his own masa flour and cooked in his kitchen with his pans. When dinner was ready, we took the pot of chili to Pap's and used Pap's 'lake china' (Styrofoam bowls) and mine&Sunshine's 'lake flatware' (plastic spoons) and crackers. The tribe fed itself.
Same thing yesterday. I bought beans, which turned out to be the wrong beans, to get Pap to cook beans. The man makes amazabomb beans. Since my beans were wrong, I grabbed Sunshine's anasazi beans and took them to Pap with some sausage. Pap provided the rest of the stuffs to make beans, sausage, and cornbread. Tonight, some of the sponsor-in-law's venison with mine & Sunshine's potatoes, carrots, and onions will be eaten on Pap's lake china.
When Pap set about building an outdoor kitchen for Nan, I jumped in and helped. When our bus roof was leaking, I turned to Pap for help. Pap's friend Mr. Henry wants some fire box bricks, Sunshine agreed to trade for some fresh fish. Our Christmas tree is boxed up in Nan & Pap's storage locker. Nan brings me amazing clothes and shoes. I go to Wally World with Nan because the crowds work her nerves so bad she gets manic. I could go on and on.
It's like people still give a shit about each other out here.
It gives me hope for the human race.