This week I have access to electricity. If you have ever lived long without it, you know how great it is. I’m lucky enough to have been born in the U.S., where most of the time, most of us have access to electricity, if we choose to connect. I know in many places around the world, electricity is not available or nonexistent.
When I’m on the road, I keep track of the power levels on my three power boxes. They are all baby power boxes, compared to some of the monsters van lifers talk about on their van life YouTube channels. When I say monster, I mean, back-breaking space hogs that can power a microwave, a fridge, a laptop, and a television—all at the same time!
I can power my portable camping fridge for three days and two nights with my 800 wh power box. My little 240 wh box will run my laptop for a solid 6 hours. Any appliance that generates serious heat, like a heater, for instance, will chew through power like this dog I’m babysitting chews through her breakfast, that is to say, the box won’t last long. This is why van lifers who heat their vans use propane, butane, or diesel.
I’ve forgotten why I started writing this blogpost.
Oh, yeah. Electricity.
Having unlimited access to electricity for a couple weeks has meant I can get some tasks done that I can’t easily do on the road. For example, I can do a massive file backup to the solid state drive I cannibalized from my old desktop computer before I donated it to the e-recyling nonprofit in Tucson. That might make my laptop happy. On the downside, I’ll never be able to find anything. Which is kind of the theme of living in one’s car.
I can cull the songs on the flashdrive I plug into the USB port in my car. I’ve decided I no longer care for Zydeco. There are a few Doors songs that came with an album I ripped some years back that I’d rather not listen to again. I’m really sick of hearing Pleasant Valley Sunday. The shuffle option on the USB drive is stuck in some stupid algorithm that serves up songs in the same order. Thankfully, I figured out I can press the >>> button on the radio to skip to the next track. But it will be better if the offending songs are removed altogether.
For the past couple days, I’ve been archiving the blogposts from the Hellish Handbasket blog, which has been hosted on Blogger since 2012. As I was going through the files, I tried not to read any of the text, but was hard not to notice references to my mother, because there are so many. And to my cat, whose demise still breaks my heart. I carry the ashes of my two dead cats in my car. Leaving them in storage for so long was weighing on me. I figure if I drive the car off a bridge, at least we’ll all go down together.
Let’s see, what else? I can finish editing and formatting the third book of the trilogy I’ve been working on for two years. In my defense, the book has been delayed because my characters’ ideas were different from mine. When your characters jump off the page, it’s hard to get them back within the margins. It took me a while to figure out who they were and what they wanted to say. I’ve always loved to write, even if no one ever reads my work. I write for myself. Which is a good thing, because I don’t see my own typos anymore.
Scottsdale weather this week has been like Willamette Valley weather but 20 degrees warmer. It’s been cloudy and wet here. The dog and I are both sunloving creatures, so we’ve had to compete for whatever patch of sun we can find. She always wins. I’ve learned to tolerate rain showers, but I’m lucky. I have an umbrella and a great rain jacket. The dog has neither. She doesn’t mind getting her paws wet or dirty, but she despises rain on her back. She would hate living in Oregon.
Once again, I realize why I left Oregon for Arizona, and before that, for California. I was born in Oregon, but I never felt I belonged there. Soon I will be returning to Oregon to live. I’m relieved that I’ll have stable housing for the next year, but I’m anxious about the gray skies and frequent showers. Winter is not my favorite time of year, and returning to Oregon in December doesn’t sound like fun. Still, I have to go. I’m paying rent for a place I haven’t even seen yet. I suppose I should at least find out if it has cockroaches.
And electricity.