Fulltime RV living–have we really lost our minds?
One of the best days of this former-property owner was the day we closed the door on our sticks and bricks house, and I sent the lawn mower to the garbage dump. I haven’t touched one of those things since.
So it’s with wry amusement we found an article in Canada’s Globe and Mail entitled, “Sell the house to buy an RV? Are my parents nuts?” In a plaintive request to the paper’s auto columnist, a “Concerned Daughter,” writes:
“My parents, who are retired, sold their house. They’re putting some of the money in the bank, and buying an RV with the rest. It’s been their life-long dream. I’m worried my kids and I won’t see them as much. I realize this is selfish but we’ve always been a very close family. I’m also worried that they’re making a big mistake, and have tried, unsuccessfully, to discuss the financial repercussions of their decision. How can I get them to listen?”
If you’ve been exposed to the whining cries of offspring who appear (on the surface) to be soooo very concerned about your financial future you know the routine: “Think of how expensive fuel is!” “Those costly RV resorts!” “You’ll break down somewhere in the middle of nowhere.” “A house is so much less costly in terms of maintenance.”
What do fulltimers have to say?
‘That ‘hazard tree’ in the yard that cost us $1,200 to have removed. Or the time the blacktop driveway needed $4,000 worth of attention?’
What else do fulltimers miss? Weekly experiences with lumbago from mowing the grass, pulling the weeds, raking the leaves. Huge bills from the oil-delivery man when winter winds blow. Washing windows–especially those nice dormer windows two floors up, wherein you had to hang on to the window frame with one hand, while manipulating the squeegy–all the while wondering how it would feel to hit the ground if you slipped.
We don’t miss those months when we had to set out pots to catch drips when nobody could figure out where the dickens the leak in the roof was from. True, we do inspect our RV roof once a year, caulking seams to keep out the wet. But hey, it takes an hour out of our lives, and $10 worth of sealant.
No more do fulltimers worry about the “Valentine Card” they’ll receive from the local tax assessor, reminding them how much money they’ll have to dig up for property taxes this year. Yeah, there are those pesky RV registration fees, but for many, they aren’t even close to the costs of what they “useta” pay for property taxes.
Yep, I know plenty of northern plains folks who really miss that snow shovel.
