We have the dream now it’s time to put in the work. After three weeks in San Luis and the surrounding areas of south western Colorado we have narrowed down our land search and have a framework for next steps. Those next steps are hard and expensive. This homestead will easily be the thing we invest the majority of our time and money into for the foreseeable future. Which is a big, scary commitment but also what we want. We are not independently wealthy to make this happen quickly, there will be a lot of DIY and figuring-it-out as we go. So, a little over a year after becoming houseless, we are deciding to take a big risk that will begin to root us somewhere rural where we can see stars and wild horses almost daily. And as it turns out, making decisions for someone else’s life (my dad’s) was a lot more straightforward than figuring it all out for ourselves. We are back in Denver for a week or two for reliable internet and to get a solid plan into place.
Our life on the road has shaped so much of what kind of decisions we will be making going forward. From hipcamps to homesteads, eco ranches to barebones boondocking, we plan to incorporate elements from all of our stays into a place where our family and friends can come visit and feel welcomed. We’re super inspired by our friends doing regenerative farming, and will be looking into ways to incorporate such practices on our land when we start growing our own food. Mostly, this will be a connecting, holistic approach to engaging with the area we want to be rooted in.
While all of this plays out, Zach and I are looking for work we can do remotely. If you know of anything, send us your recs! We’ve got some expenses coming up that we want to be prepared for. The last year of living very scrappy and as minimalists has had a profound impact on us, but it was very much for a season that we know is wrapping up, I mean, we’re not going to go out and accumulate a bunch more stuff just for the heck of it, but we will be incurring more expenses than we have at probably any other time of our lives (I’ve not fully processed how I feel about this as it has yet to happen, but from someone who worries about money from time to time I could use some discerning and calming prayers.)
The kids are starting school online through Colorado Virtual Academy, we weren’t ready for in person school yet, and if we’re both working we can’t be as available for full time homeschooling, so virtual it will be. So far Camden loves 6th grade, and Natalie is waiting for the school to approve her IEP. Fortunately, it is mostly self-paced so nobody is missing out on anything.
That’s about it from here for now. We’re available for getting together while in the metro area, so reach out if you’d like to hang out!
Hoping to call this place home and to plant some roots!
We’ve returned to big open spaces and the lands of no internet so I’m left with fewer distractions and more time to get my thoughts out into words.
We had planned on leaving shortly after 4th of July weekend, but a sudden death in the family (Zach’s cousin) redirected us to Minneapolis for a weekend with extended family. Rest In Peace Nick, your wise soul left us too soon. You remind us to live life fully right here and right now because none of us knows how long we’ll get.
After about three months longer than anticipated (5 months total!) in the Denver-metro area we finally made it back to the road and our nomadic life. We have huge thanks to give to Zach’s parents for letting us crash at their place with all of our crazy vehicles, big kid personalities and all of our stuff. The city of Thornton felt differently than our parents and we got an eviction notice from them the day before we had planned on leaving.
My dad has settled into life and good routines at his memory care facility and we got all of his affairs in order before our departure. Leaving it all in the hands of Applewood and my siblings was harder than I thought it would be. I know he has everything that he needs, I’ll just miss our regular visits. His dementia means that I don’t know what kind of condition he’ll be in next time we see him (which will probably be monthly now rather than weekly).
Fully packed, we rolled out on Friday, July 23. Bus, trailer, all of our possessions, into the great unknown. Our first stop was San Luis. My friend from high school (and great realtor who just sold my parent’s house) offered up a parking spot on her beautiful land just north of the New Mexico border. We have a few places we want to scope out just into N.M. before deciding where we could see ourselves homestead for this next chapter.
Upon getting Flossie set up and organized, we immediately fell into our slower pace and greater appreciation for the beauty that surrounds us. Even if that beauty was pulling in while white knuckling during a huge rainstorm. I’ve driven the trailer a handful of times, usually for shorter distances over the last nine months. This trek into Aimee’s land put us all to the test. The dirt roads were soupy and slow going. But we arrived in one piece. Our timing was perfect, the weekend was full of festivities celebrating the 170th year of the small town San Luis, Colorado’s oldest town. We took in the sights and enjoyed the music, car show, and vendors that were strewn out all over town.
The following two weeks we logged plenty of dirt road miles and have seen lots of different properties, we also figured out where it’s best to get supplies, where to get daily WiFi for Camden’s online summer camp, how to handle mishaps (like a flat tire) when we’re so remote, where to do laundry, get drinking and cleaning water, and where the cheapest gas is since it’s by far one of our biggest current expenses. Originally we were going to use this area as a base point for going into northern New Mexico, but after looking and comparing land prices it seems we can get more bang for our buck in this part of Colorado. Plus we’d love to stay Co. residents for ease of things with the courts and guardianship over my dad.
So we are here for the long haul looking for our little landing place that we can call our own and share with friends and family. PVC land markers are becoming our new normal sighting, rarely does an online listing match it’s actual location or coordinates in the field, and hardly anybody gets in touch with you after reaching out, so that’s fun. The good news is we know what we don’t want (middle of nowhere, zero land features or trees) so by process of elimination we are honing in on what we DO want (to be in an established community, some trees even if they’re not huge, a view, mixed land features flat and hilly). We also did our due parental process and found out about the local K-12 public school registration here for the kids. When they saw the 8-4 schedule and learned that they’d be riding a school bus two hours each day the decision to homeschool another year was easily confirmed.
Something that keeps popping into my mind as we do these daily things (and amongst the things we walked away from this past year) is that we have definitely chosen a harder way. Some of it out of necessity -we want to build a bus as a tiny home because we have been priced out of a bonkers real estate situation in any city. Some of it out of a deep desire for a simpler and slower pace. Sure, there are parts that are carefree like the hikes, sunsets, rainbows, and wildlife viewing. But some are really hard, like reading county codes about land use, and building rules and regulations, crossing your eyes over how many plots look the same and are the markers even in the right place.
Some days I long for easy, but I know our old lives are no longer for us. I miss community and having people alongside us to share the load. I miss sharing meals with our parents. And I’m almost always contemplating that these communal things happened differently not long ago and came together for our ancestors, we were never meant to go it alone, it’s just been ingrained in us for the last 100 years or so. I hope wherever we end up that we can cultivate some semblance of the community we crave.
I leave you with this from a timely email from preacher that I follow:
O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown.
Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us, through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Good Courage Prayer – extended dance mix
by Nadia Bolz-Weber
O God, you have called your servants-
And you have such questionable taste in servants.
Your servant selection process needs some work
Because O God you have again called your
Foreign women and weary retirees
You have called your pole dancers and police sergeants.
O God you have again called thirsty women and broken men and we who foolishly think we volunteered, as if we raised our eager hand and you called on us when really we were conscripted.
Oh God you have called your servants
to ventures of which we cannot see the ending,
I don’t know how this story ends, Lord.
Could we maybe just skip to the end so I could read the last few verses?
I won’t tell anyone, I promise.
Because, If I can’t see the ending then how do I know if I am getting close?
So God if you could please just give this servant that blue pin at the end of my Google Map directions so that even if the route keeps changing I at least know where I am eventually getting to. Then I’d know which route takes 4 minutes longer, one graduate degree longer, a few emotional breakdowns longer than the one I’m on. Should I face what I already know or what I will surely learn?
Oh God you have called your servants
to ventures of which we cannot see the ending,
by paths as yet untrodden
We’ve not been where we are going yet.
Make a way on these paths we’ve not yet taken – through parks where junkies fix and children play, through starter mansions and public housing and suburban strip malls and dry land wheat farms and cheap motel that charge by the hour if you know how to ask for it.
Oh God you have called your servants
to ventures of which we cannot see the ending,
by paths as yet untrodden,
through perils unknown.
Wait. Perils? Well, ok so maybe I take back the thing about knowing the end because I don’t think Gandolf meant for us to go this way Mr. Frodo. I want to know the end and also know the way to the end but not to know the perils that get me to the end because if I knew the perils I would never start the journey because I’m certain I am just not peril-ready. I am never peril-ready.
So, Lord of the questionable servants we’re gonna need some help.
So….
Give us faith
Hand it over. Seriously. Cough it up. We don’t generate enough of our own so if you call us, equip us, Lord. Give us faith to go out with good courage,
Or at least good enough courage.
Give us faith to go out with good courage, knowing only that your hand is leading us
Your strong hand. Your soft hand. The one that molded us out of dirt.
If your hand can lead Jesus out of his own grave, then it is indeed strong enough to lead us out of ours too.
Give us faith to go out with good courage, knowing only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us eternally; through Jesus Christ
…who breaks open prisons, frees slaves and captives, feasts with the outcast and celebrates strangers.
Jesus who was so bad at choosing his friends and just as bad at choosing his servants.
Jesus who even now stands among his faltering friends and shows us his hand and his side and gives us his peace. Gives us his faith, gives us his good courage, gives us his leading hand, gives us his love gives us his support.
And it is enough for the ventures of which we cannot see the end. Amen.
I’ve laughed at myself a lot as these weeks have slowly turned into months and I’ve fought this unfair marching on of time almost the entire way. The latest came early last week when after having a favorable hearing for permanent Guardianship and Conservatorship over my dad on the 24th, I thought we’d get written orders from the court by week’s end, maybe this week at the latest. Once we have orders we can finally move forward with closing on the house, we can also get all of my dad’s outstanding bills paid, and make plans for all of our next chapters. Wouldn’t you know it, the magistrate took the week off, so yet another week setback. 🤣🤣🤣 (if I don’t laugh about it I cry, so this is better.)
So after all of the resisting and whining, I decided to finally surrender. It’s been a slow surrender as I’ve realized how dug in I was with my plan of only wanting to be back in Colorado for two months (I know, how cute and naïve of me). Surrender has looked like giving ourselves mountain breaks for two weeks in a row, (despite the guilt that I’ll likely always carry anytime we go anywhere forever now, especially when dad’s care facility is calling me as we head out of service).
Back to the mountains for some camping on my sweet friend Betsy’s land
Surrender also looks like soul filling convos with friends, impromptu drop ins, celebrating G-Pa’s 70th birthday with family we haven’t seen in over a year, random errands to look for bus inspiration, planting flowers and veggies at the memory care facility and tending to our tiny plants. We may as well settle in and make new memories here while we can. The timeframe will play out as it is supposed to, and there is absolutely nothing I can do in my power to move that along. There’s a lightness and levity in surrender. There’s clarity in stepping back, not trying to force solutions, there’s laughter and love to be shared in the here and now. Just like always. Now is all we have, having a dad with dementia shows me that in every conversation or moment shared with him. I have a choice in how I want to spend my now. Do I do it with anger and fear or with ease and serenity? When it’s posed that way the choice seems very clear to me. Let me remember this next time I slip back into trying to control any situation.
Loving our extended time as a family after a year of being cautious and apart
No home garden? No problem. (My dad never would have done this at is own house)
Tiny plants getting some love
Happy wherever they go
Most nights end like this along some segment of the South Platte River. Making the best of our surroundings.
Very few of us are actually good a being patient. We live in a society that demands instant results and impulsive decisions, “do now think later”. When you’re someone who bucks up against that trend you’re seen as weird, lazy, unmotivated (mostly negative connotations). I definitely go through periods of struggling with being patient, especially in this long season of waiting, but I know it’s the right thing. I’ve never been one to ask for more patience because the universe/God/higher power will always deliver on that by way of introducing all sorts of obstacles from standing in long lines of at the grocery store to getting stuck in random traffic. So when we had to make the decision to return to Denver, we absurdly out a time stamp on our stay here at two months. (Cute right?). It was really a self imposed deadline to get things done and not get stuck, which works for my motivation, but when unforeseen circumstances hold things up really tests my patience.
And that’s where things remain as I write this week. I have a final hearing for Guardianship and Conservatorship over my dad on Monday, where I’m hoping for some closure on this phase of things and for the sale of his house to be approved by the court. After that we will be able to shift a little bit of the balance back to our plans and livelihood. In the meantime we’re doing a lot of walking to stay sane, visiting family and friends, and some initial build work on the bus. (Still trying to find the friendliest avenue to document this project, open to your suggestions.)
Fully vaxxed and Visiting dad OUTSIDE where we soaked up some 🌞 and talked endlessly about George Strait
In the meantime of this homecoming, some big changes have happened with my business partnership, formerly known as Kinship Market. Since sales have been almost nonexistent for over a year and this business was only in its baby stages (and therefore not self sustaining), it was decided that we’d part ways and dissolve the partnership. In its place, the name Kinship Experiment popped into my mind as a placeholder for whatever the next chapter may look like in my entrepreneurial journey. This is just another area or example where I’m being patient to see what unfolds. I know I still want to continue amplifying my Guatemalan friend’s businesses and artistry, but I also want to expand into discussion of a holistic lifestyle around sustainability, responsible reuse, living in a smaller footprint, and so on. So be on the lookout for posts regarding a range of topics now, and more about lifestyle and more vs. just products to buy.
So much more to share about this messy transition time, but it’s sunny and a perfect spring day and it’s time to get outdoors to fully enjoy!
It has still been an action-packed few weeks. Dad finally got placed in a memory care facility on April 30. Zach and I drove him there from the VA in one of the hardest emotional days yet in this crash course journey with dementia. I had to advocate hard with the VA that this would be an appropriate level of care for him vs. a nursing home setting where they wanted to see him go. It’s been 10 days and it’s been an adjustment but mostly good. He calls from the house phone at the facility with strange requests ranging from “come pick me up from ‘work’ right now,” to asking about his cell phone (a flip phone) and letting me know he has a buyer for it can he get the number. The siblings and I take turns going to see him as the pandemic still dictates how often, how many, and how long visitors can be at the facility. It was a huge relief getting him placed but on the heels of that relief we ran into a hiccup with the house.
Back in February before any of this happened, my dad quitclaim deeded the house over to my brother Kurtis. Well, if we plan on applying for Medicaid in the next five years (which we do), there are gift penalties, Medicaid penalties, and taxes that the state of Colorado would have a right to because of the timing of the gift, so it was advised that we get the house deeded back into my dad’s name so he can spend down the proceeds and then apply for Medicaid. That is doable, but with this change we also need permission from the court to sell the house so I submitted a motion two days prior to our original closing date to ask for the OK to sell. Now we are in a holding pattern until that motion is granted.
It finally dawned on me how much this Guardian and Conservator work entails in time, energy, research, emotional work, and more. I’m bone tired and have been settled long enough for that exhaustion to really set in. Another realization is the great weight of grief that this short amount of time has taken so much from us. We put everything in our lives on hold to come home for family and in the chaos of that have really lost the through line. Yes, we have the bus to look forward to, but no idea where to build, and the need remains to be close to the metro area while the rest of this plays out. We are grateful to be staying with Zach’s parents and have fallen into simple routines, the kids do their homeschooling most mornings, I tend to whatever work around dad needs to happen, and Zach tinkers in the bus. It’s the long slow road and man am I tired. I usually have some quip of hope or optimism I’d love to wrap up with, but I’m low on that too at the moment. For now I intend on listening to my tired body and giving her the rest she needs.
The Writings of Breanne Mashek 