Month: May 2013

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Visiting the Post Lean-To

This morning, I walked across the village to the ‘post office’, which is a lean-to attached to someone’s house. You walk into the lean-to and there are some PO boxes, clutter, and a door with a bell. The sign outside said the counter hours were about 8:30 to 1:15, so being within those hours, I rang the bell.

A gentleman quickly answered, opening the top of the door, and apologized, saying the post master had stepped out. I wanted to get a PO box, mail two letters, and advise the post master that I had an Amazon package sent general delivery. He handed me a notepad on which to write my name and ‘address’ (legal land description plus descriptive description). I added a note about the incoming package and handed back the notepad and my two letters. My business was essentially done. I’ll try back Monday and see if there is a box ready for me.

It was a lovely stroll even though the sky was spitting. We’re in a grey stretch and power is becoming a concern. But once May is done, it’ll be endless sunshine into the fall, so I just need to hang in there.

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Exploring the Environs

I still have tons of work to do this evening, but I took the afternoon off to get some fresh air. I started by walking around the village. Caroline told me that in the not so distant past, this village was the head of a big insurance company (its building now an apartment complex right across from my lot) and actually had a few businesses.

There are signs of this hey day all over, from a crumbling church to a large community hall, never mind the frost damaged sidewalks. There is also a swimming hole attached to a building with public showers and toilets. I look forward to that opening. The exterior of the building is a little scary, but if the showers are clean, they will be much appreciated.

I walked out to the cemetery and will need to go back out there with a camera, the spot being so pretty. The cemetery is obviously well tended. The bulk of the names on the headstones are French-Canadian as this is a French-Canadian community. I had a look at some of the other lots for sale, each bigger and more beautiful than the next, but I know I made the right choice. And a good view is just a block away!

Now, I wasn’t going to share this next tidbit, but, really, it’s too good not to. The majority of the residents of this community have one of two last names. The first last name is that of my maternal grand-mother. The other last name is that of my maternal grand-father, so the name of just about all my relatives on my mother’s side. WHAT?! That is a really weird coincidence. The names are common, but we’ve done the genealogy and we all appear to come from the same 17th century immigrants. So I am likely a distant blood relation of many of my neighbours. How weird is that?

Finally, I really did intend to keep the name of the village private, but there is a nearby attraction that shares the village’s name and which I simply cannot hide from the world, it is so wondrous. It’s only 2KM away, albeit uphill, so it could be a good place to hike to once or twice a week.

Some of you may remember the wonderful gift I got from Jody for my third RVing anniversary, a trip to Writing-On-Stone Provincial Park. This park has petroglyphs carved into vertical rock faces.

Well, there are some much rare petroglyphs in North America, ones written on horizontal surfaces. One such location is right here, at the St Victor Petroglyphs Historical Park.

It’s a bumpy drive up to the petroglyphs (so I glad I have my truck because even with it I almost lost my fillings). The petroglyphs are carved into sandstone and very faint. Truth be told, I couldn’t see anything today and made note of the idea conditions (rain or dusk) to see them. Standing up there, I felt the same magical connection to the world around me that I did at Writing-On-Stone and in the Badlands. These are places of immense power.

The pictures below are of the landscapes as seen from the petroglyph locations, mostly to prove to Caroline that I am NOT in stereotypical flat prairie landscapes. 🙂 Also, the crocuses were out!

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Haven: Now With Internet, Kind Of

My booster package arrived today. No exclamation points because I want to have WORDS with Wilson electronics.

I ordered a Sleek signal booster with a longer magnet mount antenna.

I read all the literature and made sure to ask Andy if I needed anything else. Well, SURPRISE, the Sleek and the antenna both have connectors that cannot be joined them together! I want to meet the moron who had that bright idea. I thought they were male connectors, but they are actually SMA female and FME female.

So until I find a connector and get it out here, I am limited to the little stubby antenna that comes with the Sleek. I get about 1.5 bars with it. Andy recommends a pizza pan to use as a mount for an RV rubber roof. Being me, I found a pizza pan that isn’t magnetic. But of course. I tried my cast iron skillet, but didn’t get much of a signal. The next idea was to park the truck next to the office and stick the stubby antenna on its roof. I’m now trying a pot on the roof and getting a more steady signal.

The good news is that the Sleek does work and that I do have slooooooooooow internet at home. The bad news is that I really need the longer antenna and I have no immediate way of using it Being 20 miles from civilization and having spent $190, I am feeling rather pissed off about that.

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Now I Know What a Plot of Land Means

When I bought the property last year, I wondered what a plot of land would mean for me.

The short answer is that it means the Canadian government has won.

I am exhausted by all the lies and half-truths I have to tell to be a true full-timer in this country. I especially worry about losing my health and vehicle insurance coverage.

The government demands that I have a truly fixed address, not someone’s yard or a mail forwarding service’s office, and now I’ve got it. They want me to spend the bulk of the year in one location. That’s likely going to happen now that I know the property is going to work out as an RV base.

But I did capitulate on my own terms. Most people in rural Saskatchewan have PO boxes tied to a lot number, not a street address. So no one will care that I don’t have a proper house on my lot and being a property owner will likely reduce the amount of scrutiny I might get about how much time I’m actually at my place.

I have a property that will be low maintenance and which I can improve at a slow pace, with absolutely no pressure to develop, so I can keep spending more of my money traveling.

I also have the peace of mind that if Miranda ever becomes road unworthy, I can park her on the lot, cover her with a heatable structure, and then have a paid home to retire to should I ever need to stop moving.

I don’t know if I will ever think of Haven as being ‘home.’ I don’t think I have the kind of personality to truly have a ‘home’ as per the conventional mindset. To me, ‘home’ is a place you don’t want to leave. I really don’t feel that I could ever live in one place all the time ever again and be satisfied. Therefore, I don’t believe I ever could truly have a ‘home’ outside of Miranda.

Growing up, I always had two visions for my life. In one, I was the globe-trotting nomad, in the other I was a homesteader. I thought that RVing had allowed me to find a compromise to those two visions, giving me the freedom to travel while still having a home. But I think that RVing plus a low maintenance property is doing a much better job of merging those two conflicting dreams.

I am still a full-time RVer; the land doesn’t change that in my mind. Right now, Miranda needs a few repairs that make me shy about taking her back out on the road, but they’ll happen in due time. I do think I am going to slowly start traveling less with her and that a heatable structure is going to rise up in the list of priorities.

One of the many reasons I wanted a truck was to be able to pull a lightweight trailer behind it. I think the time will come in the not so distant future where Miranda will stay behind in Saskatchewan in the winter and I will travel with just a small trailer. The expense of driving a huge ’97 motorhome is just going to keep mounting and I think Miranda is about to reach the point where she is going to get old and decrepit very fast; comfortable for living in a fixed place but worrisome to take on the road.

If any of this is a shock to anyone, you haven’t been reading the blog that closely. I had a 10-year plan for traveling with Miranda and I’m already at the half-way point in that plan. Now that I have the property, some parts of that plan are a lot easier to firm up now.

Of course, I could still meet that dashing American and get the chance to live as a true nomad in the States, but that’s not a sure bet. It’s good to have a backup plan. 🙂

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Kindred Spirits

I just got back from happy hours (yes, plural) at my neighbours who sold me my property. I am going to call them Caroline and Charles from now on, all though that is not anywhere near their real names. Points to those who get why I picked those names.

Caroline, Charles, and I are kindred spirits. There is just no other way to describe it. We have similar values and attitudes towards life. They actually came to Saskatchewan in horse drawn covered wagons! I am blessed to have them here. This village will feel like home thanks to them.

I enjoyed way too much homemade white wine, venison salami, and cheese as we gabbed. Another neighbour, let’s call her Laura, came over at one point to join us. I now have access to showers and washing machines. Laura works ‘in town’ and said I am welcome to grab her house key from Caroline and use her facilities during the day!!!

I was sent home with a box of giant parsnips (will share a picture when I’m on a faster connection as they are weapon-sized) and two pallets to use as a front porch. I was also invited to a horse-related event in July (that sounds fun enough to pull me away from Stettler) and warned that my handywoman skills will be put to good use later this summer when Charles and Caroline start working on their addition, so I don’t need to worry about monetarily paying them back for using anything they offer me.

Caroline told me that folks here often find graineries (I think that’s the word), skeleton buildings made of fir that folks clad with plywood and turn into sheds. Charles is going to look for one as he’s always out and about doing pest control and said that I could likely pay a bachelor with a meal and some beer in exchange for having it brought out to me. I visited one of their’s and it would be more than just a shed once finished. It would have the potential to be a sweet little cottage, exactly what I envisioned having one day on this lot.

This village, or, rather, hamlet, feels like such a different place than it was this morning. I have to return a dolly to Caroline tomorrow and was told there’s always coffee on. I am going to learn to play Canasta on Friday night at Laura’s. Suddenly, I belong.

This place truly is my Haven.