
In the fifth month of living in this apartment complex, the quiet is obvious. Six buildings, eight apartments in each. I could go days without seeing anyone, ignore the phone and not hear a human voice. Jazz from a public broadcasting station soothes. My stress level is almost non-existent and yet...
There is this part of me that wants to wander. Buy a small motorhome, the little kind sports an awning on the side. Essentials, of course: toilet, shower, microwave, laptop, my stationery bike and mini trampoline. Oh, yes, I'd finally buy a cell phone.
I envision parking by a lake, quiet, just me. Bears and other dangerous wild creatures will keep their distance, respecting me as I respect them. I wonder if I could handle the loading and unloading of a small, lightweight boat for floating around the lake.
Small towns would appeal to me, too. Small town diners, churches, libraries and the occasional book store. Ah... I just had a vision of touring the northwest, stopping at every Wegmans supermarket in New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Maryland, and their southernmost store in Woodbridge, Virginia.
New England. Now there's a thought. I've never been to Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island, or Connecticut. Dialects and accents always interest and intrigue me. Ocean. Forests. Mountains.
Put everything in storage, buy a motorhome, trade my desktop computer in for a laptop, stock up on prescriptions, and start my travels. It would be easy. I'm retired, unemcumbered, footloose and fancy-free. Yep, that's me. And yet, I wonder, what would I do for medical care, because I have no health insurance? What happens when I tire of travel and need to apartment hunt again. Is there another way to do this? Do I want to do this, or is it the dream of doing this what appeals to me?
Oh well, I don't have to decide today. Meantime, I hone the dream: a houseboat sounds even more appealing. Travelling down a lazy river, moss in centuries-old trees overhanging the water...
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