The plan is to go all-in white trash. The cheapest most affordable postage-stamp sized piece of dirt I can find. And then tow, drive or land an RV, trailer, camper, yurt or shipping container on it.
That will be my retreat. A quiet place of solitude where I can stoke the creative fires within. Ride, run, hike, paddle. Sit by the fire at night, chart the progress of celestial bodies and ponder the complexities and magic of this paradox. The Greeks might call it a tragedy just as surely as the Italians would call it dolce far niente. I am not sure what the French would say but I am confident they have a word for it.
In a perfect daydream this new base camp would operate four days a week with the remainder spent in town (or preferably on the road) doing that work thing. Not so bad, really.
I also have a cool design in mind for a small retreat getaway if I can't make the here/there ratio work perfectly from the get-go. After all, Home Depot ain't giving their crappy inventory away like they used to. So this may take some time. However much I have remaining.
I checked out Sequim Friday and this morning I was up at Lake Cushman on the Hood Canal. There are some incredible places in each. There are also a few that, well, I will not be blogging about, the modern equivalent of writing home. There is a difference between poverty and frugality.
I also found a 30' Georgia Boy RV (with a 454 turbo and low miles) that would fit the bill as mobile unit for the interim. Going to take another look later today and gauge the owners interest and motivation. (loose translation: Here is what I will offer).
Lastly today, a gray drizzly-do Sunday in the Puget Sound, is this little gem that I finally polished enough for display (had to post something about training):
If you combine mind and body in training long enough, you will find your spirit.
You may quote my on that one.
Please.
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