Life with Gertie

Have you ever craved adventure? In early March of 2021 we made a quick yet firm decision to jump into the market and list our home for sale. Within three days we had accepted a stupifying offer and on April 27th we left behind our home in Vernon, BC, purchased a 38 foot converted school bus named Gertie, and after packing up the rest of our belongings, headed south to our newly purchased 3 acres outside of Osoyoos, BC.

I sit now at my new writing desk, gazing out at mountain tops and evergreens…and a somewhat sagging sun sail, and after many weeks of computer-free living I am finally putting fingers to keyboard.

Life with Gertie has so far been an amazing experience. While certainly not intended to be a long-term solution to homelessness, as we are working hard to get through a self-build of our new home, Gertie has proven to be satisfyingly cozy and homey. We are enjoying great sleeps, the kids and dogs tucked in their bunks and us in our master suite with 270 degree views and a teensy double bed, short but lovely showers, brilliant food, and desert-like spring weather—that is, hot in the day and cold at night.

My intention is to provide notes and anecdotes on a new website LifewithGertie.ca and so if you are interested in learning more about our life living in a Skoolie, please join me there. (This blog has currently been disabled…we currently live in a house! Gertie is now for sale!)

A few things you might like to know before I sign off:

School buses are not well insulated. In 28 degree heat with full sun shining down on Gertie, the coffee mugs in the cupboard feel like they just popped out of the microwave!

School bus interiors are metal and fantastically magnetic! I am so very much enjoying creating curtains and other handy things with powerful magnets. It’s incredibly convenient. And the ceiling works well as a whiteboard as well.

For 5 humans and 3 dogs it seems that there will never be enough space for everything. We have done quite well wheedling down our possessions to include just what we need on hand so as not to become overly overwhelmed by clutter.

The movement that comes from us living in Gertie is quite soothing and comforting.

Although there is standing room—it is hard to take off a pullover.

Finally, putting away clean dishes requires no more than a 360 spin on one foot. Everything is easily within reach.

A huge thanks to the Waterman Family in Kamloops, BC who allowed us to adopt Gertie. She’s a real gem and has provided a wonderful home for us while we acclimate to life in rural Osoyoos.

FOR MORE INFORMATION ON SKOOLIE LIFE, PLEASE CONTACT US. We are happy to share our experiences and lessons!

The Value of Imaginary Friends

“The best part of reality is your imagination.”  (A truly quotable quote from my son Gavin)

When the Covid-19 provincial recommendations for isolation and social distancing first came into effect, I was overcome with a deep-seated feeling of loneliness—or maybe “aloneness” would be a better word?  In fairness I am neither truly lonely or alone as I have my three children and three dogs to keep me company at all times. Regardless, it suddenly struck me that if I were in a crisis I would turn to my family—my parents, grandmother, one of my siblings, or an aunt—but given the current cultural climate of fear, I wasn’t sure that I would even be welcome in their homes due to the possibility that I would be carrying this terrible pandemical virus and be putting my loved ones at incredible peril.  I’m not sure that pandemical is really a legitimate word but I like it and I am invoking my writer’s prerogative to use it as such.  Of course I do have dear friends and family members that I can always call on the phone if I need to—if I can catch them when it’s convenient—but other than my husband, who also works away for two weeks at a time, I don’t really have that “best friend” person in my life to turn to.

Actually, ever since high school I have resisted the urge to even use the “best” description of a friend.  Every friend is dear to me in different ways and to classify one as a best friend has always seemed terribly un-friend-like.  It implied that other friends were not as special or important.  And then the thought always came to my mind that there was a possibility that while I could consider someone my “best friend”, I may not actually fall into that category for them.  In that case, can you still claim to be “best friends”?  It was all too much for me to even bear to think about.  As a result, I have always preferred to refer to my friends with “my dear friend so and so”. And this entire train of thought was what prompted my revelation about the brilliance of imaginary friends.

I really do feel that the media is to blame for my current distress. On TV and in the movies, girls always have these amazing groups of girlfriends that they’ve known for a million years.  These friends know them inside-out and will drop everything to give support when needed.  They say things like “remember that time that you…” and they laugh so hard together over it.   They can’t make it through the day without texting and they phone each other anytime on a whim, and of course they always answer.  They have a million inside jokes and know absolutely everything about each other; they go for lunch, drink wine together, laugh out loud together, share the same opinions about the people they gossip over, and even travel to places like Las Vegas together.  I’m not sure how realistic this all is, but I want it.  And I decided that if I couldn’t have it in real life then I could just make it up.  And so I did.

I have thoughtfully created/crafted my very own imaginary best friend!  I don’t remember having an imaginary friend as a child, but I am so pleased with myself for having discovered this incredible coping mechanism in adulthood.  While I of course consciously know that she isn’t real, I have to say that she has given me a lot of comfort, and also a lot of laughs.  My husband thinks that I’m really losing my mind and has fierce concerns over this revelation that I’ve had.  My kids think it’s hilarious and are very happy to play along.  They ask if Auntie Jilly is going to come visit us this summer or if we can go visit her.  They just love their Auntie Jillian!  And so do I!  To clarify, I don’t pretend that she’s standing in my kitchen with me, but I did have an imaginary phone call with her to really frustrate my husband.  I had to tell her what he had said to me!  She would understand!  My role playing on the phone prompted so much laughter that I had tears in my eyes.  I sure hope that he can learn to accept this new diversion of mine.

What I also love is that now that I’ve invented this amazing friend, I know that at some point I can secretly inject her into conversations with acquaintances and no-one will be the wiser!  I can actually imagine myself saying the words: “This one time my best friend Jilly...”

So, what do you think?  Is this a revolutionary new coping strategy?  Or should I perhaps seek counselling?  Are you having any thoughts about creating your own imaginary best friend?  (If so, maybe we can all go for coffee together...when the pandemic is over of course.)

The State of the World

Approximately four weeks ago now, I began drafting a blog post titled “The State of the World” and below is what my first paragraph looked like at that time…

“I thought that last week was a hard week for me and facing the universe, but this week the world seemed to outdo itself entirely. Sigh. Last week my favorite bookstore in Vernon—the bookstore that has generously stocked my book and has invited me to hold book signings—announced that it is closing its doors. There is some speculation over exactly why this has come about, but the one thing that is clear is that not enough people have been shopping there. Someone said, “People aren’t reading anymore!” But I’m not convinced that that’s the reason. I still see people reading. I’m still reading. My kids are still reading. My friends are still reading. So what has happened in the marketplace that we can no longer culturally support small book stores? I can already hear my sister’s voice saying to me, “Amazon!” And when I stop and reflect honestly, I have to admit that I have turned to not just Amazon, but many different retailers, when making book purchases. But book stores have always had competition—the public library for instance. The public library is proof that people are still reading books and that not all is lost. And then this week I visited the library with two of my kids. While we wandered through the children’s section looking for reading material, there sat a family of four, with two children under the age of ten, sitting together in one of the cushy reading nooks, eating food and playing on their cell phones! The window ledge beside them was already stacked with food wrappers, empty pudding containers, and juice boxes. The “dad” and two children held smart phones and were playing online games—and talking and laughing in full voice volume! I grimaced and wondered if I should tell someone about what was going on here. I looked around and right behind me there was a library employee shelving books, la-dee-da-dee-da, not a worry in the world. I was dumbfounded. ‘So that’s how it is now?’ I heard myself thinking to myself, my jaw hanging open as I stared exasperated. To say that this unexpected display was a distraction for me would be a gross understatement. I was devastated. And my other leading emotion was a feeling of betrayal—betrayal by an institution that has always had rules and expectations and that never seemed to waver in those—a place that you could rely upon for order and decorum. To me, it was another harsh reminder that things are changing around us at unprecedented speeds, and we are facing a brand new state of the world as we know it—one that I’m not sure that I am going to easily adapt to.”

And then there was covid-19.

A month ago a bookstore closure and the new culture of the public library were blowing my mind, but here we are in a completely foreign state of existence—something akin to a science fiction novel (which admittedly has never been my favorite genre). All I can do right now is repeat my own words from one month ago. “Things are changing around us at unprecedented speeds, and we are facing a brand new state of the world as we know it—one that I’m not sure that I am going to easily adapt to.” What else can be said?

Chesterfield Snow Day

On a not so long ago January morning, despite the relentless snowfall and icy road conditions, we were reluctantly on our way to school. I was gripping the steering wheel fairly aggressively and driving with extra care and attention—since in addition to the residential roads having received very little maintenance, the winter tires on our old van are not wholly impressive—when my eldest daughter let out an enormous sneeze. I registered it somewhere in the back of my mind but not enough to react. But when she said “Bless me!” out loud to herself I winced and felt a pang of guilt that I hadn’t acknowledged her. So being the insecure mother that I am, in an attempt to overcompensate for not paying closer attention to her, I spouted out: “Bless you!” “Gesundheit!” and “Bless you” in Ukrainian (as my Baba would say it but I could never write on a normal keyboard), and then for comic effect I added “Chesterfield!” in the same exalted breath.

My son in the front seat next to me looked at me and said, “Chesterfield? Isn’t that a coffee table?”

My raucous laughter ensued. “A coffee table?” I replied with exasperation.

Have you failed as a parent if your 13-year-old doesn’t know what a chesterfield is?

For the record, and much thanks to Google, the word chesterfield is a short-form way to describe a deep-buttoned, leather-covered sofa—apparently one in which the back and arms are at the same height—also very fashionable in velvet.

It was a name that was copyrighted by the Fleming Howland furniture company, although they can only speculate on its origin. Some say it was named for the Earl of Chesterfield but no documentation seems to exist. Kate Watson-Smyth, in her article titled “The secret history of…The Chesterfield” writes “To own (or at least desire) a purple velvet Chesterfield is to be marked as officially middle class.”

Make way for the Purple Velvet Chesterfield!

Itsy & Bitsy now have their own page!

Dear Mouse Friends, if you have been reading these posts and want to see more pictures and videos of the infant mice that we named Itsy & Bitsy then please check out the page on this website labelled Itsy & Bitsy.

Thanks for reading!

Lindsay

Dinner Time for a Mouse

One of the baby mice drinks infant formula from the tip of a pipette.

Itsy & Bitsy 2018

Meet Itsy & Bitsy—the two infant mice that we rescued. Here they nestle into a dish towel as a warm bottle of water placed beneath keeps them cozy.