Quotidian

The mundane becomes routinized into our lives, laying out the scaffolding for time. We do laundry every Thursday morning at 6am, or the day's dishes each night before bed. We shower every morning and brush our teeth after each meal. We grocery shop on Saturday and make casseroles or soup on Sunday afternoon to feed us throughout the week. These habits form routines that provide structure, familiarity, and comfort. These routines flew out Syd's window like a plastic bag (David's modern day tumbleweed) when we got on the highway.

Saturday, I arrived in Tahoe to spend a week at a condo that my parents gave me through their time share. I have my own bathroom. Besides at my grandmother's old house and at the monastery, I haven't had my own bathroom since I left home, which seems like five and a half weeks ago, so it's weird. Also, none of the national parks where I've stayed have showers. I've stopped a couple of times at RV parks to purchase a shower (at $3 and $6; the one closest to Canyonlands NP was rumored to be $10). After I arrived here, I was scrubbing off red dirt, which I knew wasn't from where I had stayed the night before (Great Basin NP in NV), but where I had stayed the night before that (Bryce Canyon NP in UT).

I have had the assumption my entire life that dishes must be washed with soap and water each time they are used. All it took to dispel me of this notion was about 20-30 bees swarming around the dishwashing station at Guadalupe Mountains NP. They were even flying out of the faucet when the water was turned on. Now, I have embraced the idea of "clean enough."

I have barely been on an interstate highway since I left Odessa about a month ago. Sometimes, this has led to not being able to find a restroom at a needed moment. In NM, I actually had to drive about 10 miles out of my way to go into a state park to use the facilities. Why did I not just go on the side of the highway? Well, that's exactly what I did near a picnic area in southwest TX, but it was super windy that day in NM (of course), and there was no shoulder for miles and miles. Sometimes, "clean enough" can't happen, but you do what you can. Saturday, I drove in to the Reno area on the highway known as "The Loneliest Road in the World," although the highway I drove the day before was much lonelier. I've been so isolated, I've started viewing full clothing as optional, even when I'm outside (truly, I'm only one small step away from joining a pack of coyotes). I've been getting gas when I'm down to half a tank because you can't count on anything for many miles. I also try to start out each day with at least a couple of gallons of water. I've become extremely efficient at setting up and taking down camp, and I haven't really liked sleeping inside a condo in a bed for the last several nights. I don't like waking up inside, either. It's hard to figure out where I am at first and that makes me feel a little anxious. Even if you don't instantly know where you are when you wake up inside a tent, you at least know you are somewhere having fun.

I am enjoying having a full refrigerator and kitchen, though. I went nuts at Trader Joe's yesterday, especially with the green stuff. I can't wait for Jenny to get here Wednesday to help me eat it all. Since I've been writing, I have savored a bowl of Ranier cherries (I will only buy one or two pints a year - so delicious, so expensive). I may save some for her, but we'll see. Trader Joe's also makes the best veggie corn dogs - that was lunch - yum! Stir fry is in my near future. Y'all know I can talk about food forever, but I'll cut it short and just say that, by last Thursday, the thought of putting one more bite of peanut butter or hummous in my mouth was starting to make me sick. I found a Chinese restaraunt Saturday, in a town just east of Reno called Fernley, and ate some Kung Pao tofu to initiate my return to civilization.

Now that all of you are disgusted by my lack of hygeine, I would like to say one more word about driving. I hadn't seen a police car in several states when I came upon a handpainted sign on The Loneliest Road in the World that read, "Speed Trap Ahead." My gratitude goes out to this person (probably some nice anarchist who moved to a town in the middle of nowhere to get out from under the heavy hand of our civic and economic laws), as I was going 25mph when I spotted the sherriff.

Peace and happy showers and dishwashers and toilets and beds to all.