Teacher Dedication

This video does a great job speaking frankly about the issues teachers deal with every single day.

Two parts spoke clearly to me. The most important was about the actual teaching and what joy it brings me when I am able to find the right path to guide a child on to find a new understanding. That never, ever gets old. The other was that every teacher I know has a second job whether it pays with a pay check or a husband/wife. I do not know one teacher who does not have to supplement their income in order to live and work in my county. For Kurt and I that second job right now is my giving up my living expenses and commuting from the boat. Lucky for Kurt!

On the Topic of Money

Alison says:

The advantages of living on a boat is that we save money, get to live simple lives and share the rewards. This month we shared the rewards with my kids. I know that I have put myself on the boat for an extra month with my Christmas gifts to them, but it was nice to be able to send along some cash to help them get a couple of gifts they wouldn’t have been able to buy on their own anytime soon.

Kurt and I locked up the boat, filled the cat feeder with enough food and water to last two weeks and drove to my daughter's in North Carolina. To be clear, she was offered a Christmas adventure on the fine boat, Elizabeth, but declined. No surprise. So after celebrating Christmas with Amy, Josh and my friend from JMU(!), Kurt and I took the coastal route home via ferry through Ocracoke Island and on to Cape Hatteras. It was on Ocracoke that we found the perfect example of what I am looking for in our "Grandma" house. 

It is this kind of front porch that I envision sitting on when my grandkids or granddogs come to visit. Kurt will be out back in his shed, building another boat/shelf/table and I'll be doing whatever it is I do in my free time. I see myself sitting on more of a porch swing or couchy bench, but the rocking chair is nice. This particular house may be the Sears bungalow known as the Sheridan. Sears houses are littered all around Arlington and I love them. They were sold in the early to mid-1900's as plans to build or as kits with precut materials to assemble yourself. My understanding is they are centered near former railroad depots as that is how the materials were delivered. My love for this style of house is enough to stay on this boat for as long as it takes to either find property on which to build something like this or to find a bungalow already built and in need to tender loving care. 

As sweet as Ocracoke Island is, it's just too far from anything to look into buying this particular one, and the fact that is wasn't even for sale made walking away from it that much easier. The Chesapeake Bay doesn't have beaches like the Outer Banks in North Carolina, but if I am going to afford this and retire in a timely fashion, I am staying close enough to my current employer. There is too much invested in my retirement to play around this late in the game. Kurt remains flexible, as always.

Which leads back to the topic of money. 

I firmly hold the value that money is meant to be spent. 

I was raised by one very frugal parent and another parent who taught us to “spend quick before you run out”. Seems the latter is my preferred way of being which is why boat living seems to be my best option. It's why my inheritance was spent on renovating my house and raising my children outside of my means. It's why the proceeds from the sale of that house financed the start up of my acting career, paid off all my debt and saved two of my children a little bit on college loans.

Money, like politics and religion, is a hard thing to talk about and I try to avoid it. I’m not sure these sentences will be published, but it’s the core of this adventure. Money. Its value. Its purpose. My value and my purpose. Kurt’s value and his purpose. Part of what I fell in love with was Kurt's very deep conviction that money is not the goal. People and this earth are the goal. He has lived his adult life consistently living with this ethic. As for me, I am still working out my relationship with money, I think. But I chose Kurt knowing full well that it will be a life lived out loud. There will be no ulterior motive. He told our families at our wedding that our home will always be a safe place for anyone to land. We hadn’t discussed that ahead of time and it surprised me to tears as he made that declaration. And that’s really all that matters. We both work in jobs that we value. Jobs that help to make the world a better place. We could have chosen differently, but we didn’t. We mean this. 

We both make far less money than our relatives and childhood friends who chose other career paths. But we like knowing that there are a couple of kids out there whose lives are better because we opened up a path of understanding useful to them.

Somewhere on the internet is a meme that equates the hoarding of newspapers with the hoarding of money. One hoarder is considered mentally ill, the other hoarder is considered brilliant. That was a new and interesting concept to me. I know that I have judged others and myself fiercely for not having enough money or handling it more wisely. But I also don’t understand why people spend so much of their energy, life and health trying to save and build a portfolio that could carry them generations into the future. I am all for people who use their time and talents and gold to help others or clean up messes. On the other hand, I am completely confused by folks who seem to need to show that they have greater personal value as their financial accounts increase. 

In another life, I was witness to a love, not Kurt, who lost a ton in the stock market crash of 2008. He was devastated as he tried to explain how much money he lost in one day. I was sincerely amused as I patiently explained to him,  “It’s all Monopoly money until you sell anyhow. So, no, you really didn’t lose money, you lost the perception of money.” My former love patted my head for not understanding the complex ways of the grown-up financial world. I understood then and I understand now, it’s an invented value system I don’t buy into. It's why I don't spend my time and talent trying to learn the system. Maybe I'm an idiot for judging improperly. Too bad for me, maybe.

**A quick thanks to the oil industry for producing an abundance of oil, so gas prices are not breaking our bank. AND a quick shout out to Wawa's consistent stocking of the Smartfood popcorn. And to their new grilled cheese panini! It's kind of like fast food, but the burnt cheese on the edges makes traveling so much more pleasant! 

Happy New Year to all. May we all live our lives as we damn well see fit so long as it doesn't hurt the earth or others!

Kurt Says:

Alison told me I wasn't allowed to read her post on "money" until I commented on it myself. Money, sigh. 

Choosing philosophy as my primary major in college probably sealed the deal -- I have never been interested in pursuing money. It is a means to an end; the end being living a fully human life here, in this place, and now at this time. Money is necessary, of course, but its acquisition is not, I think, a worthy goal in itself.

Living Simply:

Part of living a fully responsible human life on this fragile little blue ball is the commitment to live simply, to consume as little as possible and be very clear about the distinction between what is needed and what is wanted. "Live simply so that others may simply live" has been a guiding principal of my life. I chose a life of voluntary poverty and for the first 20 years of my adulthood I lived on less than taxable income, i.e. significantly under $6000 annually. Spending a decade working with children and families living in extreme poverty taught me how to do this with dignity and pride and they really showed me that money, though a cause of great stress, is nonetheless important. At least enough to cover the basics.

Retirement:

There comes a time when living simply, choosing a life of voluntary poverty, and the realization that one is not going to die young collide. It is called retirement. Sadly, while I have been working constantly since I was thirteen years old I have no savings, and no retirement other than social security. So in 2004, at the ripe age of forty, I decided it was time to settle down and make some money. Unfortunately, not having it in me to pursue money as an overriding goal, I found employment with the local public school system. Not much money there but the work was meaningful and there was a retirement package. Today I earn the national median income, the first time I have ever had a living wage. It does not leave much room for extras but I can afford to pursue my love of photography and pay the basic bills. I will work this job until I retire, they fire me, or something significantly better comes along.

Suburban Woman Learns to Live on a Boat - Part 1

This post took two weeks to write, see rule # 3. And please excuse the video quality, blogging has rules that I am learning...

Alison says:

As I left for work in the dark on Friday Kurt and I couldn’t agree on whether this was my second or third Friday. I had to remember things like which weekend I spent the night at my coworker’s house in order to get up and out early Saturday morning and which weekend was the weekend we did laundry. Forget about trying to remember when Thanksgiving happened. That was an entire life time ago. So it took three stoplights to finally realize that all I needed to do was pull up the calendar on my phone and look how many weeks it’d been since Thanksgiving. It has been three. Three short weeks have brought me to being able to breathe deeply enough to reflect. I live on a boat. I live on a boat with my husband. We live on a boat with HIS cat. And I survived the Laundromat.

Lesson #1: Just be tidy. 

There is no room to move, so there is even less room to leave stuff strewn about. My former ritual of trying on 3 -4 outfits each morning and leaving the rejects on the bed till tomorrow’s try-on is no longer a useful ritual. Decide what to wear and just wear it, seriously. It’s really not that big of a deal. No one at work really cares what you wear. Your students will entertain their bored brains better if what you put together really doesn’t make sense. And nothing is strewn, so no one on the boat has to trip over it. Wins all around! I do still need to figure out where to store everything that I use regularly. My shower backpack is settled in the back seat of my car for when I arrive home exhausted and smelly. I have no excuse to stop off at the boat to pick it up. I simply park outside the bathhouse and shower, now. It kind of takes the commute stress off my bones and I am kind of a nicer wife when I do finally step onto the boat. And I get to go to bed earlier.  The make up bag is a whole other story. Do I leave it under my desk at work, carry it in the car or haul it on and off the boat? That I haven’t settled. Regardless of where I leave it, I need it wherever it is not. No one at work has mentioned to me that I should wear more or less make up. It’s kind of not clear whether anyone really cares. And I save a bit of money and time not putting it on or having to take it off. Kind of revolutionary, really. And then there are the shoes. The plastic bins in the back of my car are working well to hold the bulky, but fashion forward boots and scarves. So shuffling to my car in the morning in whatever I have left on the boat allows me to change my shoes at some point in my commute. Almost every thing has a place and almost everything is in its place.

Lesson #2 – A boat can stand a bit of decoration.

Not sure if I have mentioned this before, but this world of Kurt’s can stand some changes and he welcomes all of them. When I brought on my pillows and blankets I was worried it would be a bit excessive, but it only makes this place feel more like home. There is great comfort in comfort especially when the nights are cold. So that bit of decorating has led to pulling out the Nativity scene, hanging a few stockings and taking out the candles for dinner each night. We’ll need to put up photos soon and frame that art I gave him for Christmas last year. And then there will be the reupholstering of the settees. Not sure what the fabric needs to be, so that will have to wait for more information. All of this on top of the renovating Kurt is still working on, mostly cosmetic at this point. He did make a killer countertop out of throwaway wood from my house. Doubled the counter space while looking right nice! That same brilliance will install some shelving to take care of the books and such that migrate here from school most weekends. There also is no place for the crocheting projects I have been putting off, but must be done this week! Oh, and where can we put those other blankets that we don’t use anymore now that my pretty blankets are aboard?

Lesson #3 - Everything takes longer

So breathe deeply. Getting dressed in the morning with two people in the space made for one takes a bit of maneuvering time. I haven’t gotten into the strict habit of setting out my clothes at night, so fumbling in the cold, dark while Kurt fumbles in the cold, dark means someone has to step aside while the other does what needs to be done. Just breathe.

The internet still isn’t figured out. Verizon is ridiculous and I can’t make my phone a hot spot until my new plan changes over January 1, so I have to use my data sparingly. Online shopping has been quick and productive for present purchases. Although most of that was done at Starbucks as we were both low on our data. Only one trip was needed to the Southern Maryland strip malls. Thank goodness. I miss movies and Jeopardy. But I am reading more. And sleeping a whole lot more. It gets dark early, but that changes today! Only more sunlight from now until June!

Lesson #4 – The Laundromat is a trip.

Luckily I have had a washer and dryer in my own home for the entire time I’ve been an adult. It was a necessity (first world) while raising three kids and then a necessary luxury that I grew into as they all started leaving the house. I honestly didn’t think I could return to Laundromat life and I’m still not sure we will ever get along.

Quick story – Kurt took me to his favorite Laundromat (I’ll have to share his life story one day and you’ll understand why he doesn’t care and why I am willing to go with him on this one) in the part of town that requires a security guard at Food Lion. It took a bit for me to get over the shame/pride of needing a public place to wash my unmentionables. I actually watched myself stay close to my man as he showed me the new, much improved washers. They weren’t anything like the ones I had used in college or San Francisco in the 1980’s. Three loads can go in at once! BUT NOT ALL CLOTHES CAN BE WASHED IN HOT WATER. In fact none of my clothes need to be washed in hot water, whimper, whimper. So we set up two – one cold and one warm, got them started and sat down to read. As it was 70 degrees outside, I sat on the bench outside facing the machines and Kurt took a walk. Just after he disappeared, one of the really nice folks inside quickly opened the door to tell me my washer was leaking water. Of course, of course, Kurt takes me to this part of town and abandons me to a malfunctioning washer. The masses point to my purple panties stuck in the door. The same purple panties that Kurt promised me would come unstuck once the washer started washing. That little bit of fabric allowed an opening for the water to leak out of the front-loading washer with a clear door. All my clothes were on display for all the people to see. Many solutions were offered and the only one that worked was to hit the red emergency stop button and wait patiently for the washer to drain all the water out. Then and only then was I able to carefully open the front-loading door, quickly reach in to catch my wet clothes and grab the purple panties and throw them all the way into the washer. I thanked all the kind people and restarted the washer. They all cheered. My introverted and first world self adjusted my attitude and cheered with them as I sat back down on the chair inside the Laundromat, just in case there was another problem. I stuck my little head back into my little book and the place quieted down. Then and only then did Kurt return from his walk and sit down next to me. He was kind of curious about my growling in his general direction. Yup, he laughed as I whispered the story. He laughed way too hard for my comfort. The others looked up from their folding and chuckled along with him. Grrrr. Maybe not all my clothes have to be washed in cold water. Maybe Kurt can hit the Laundromat on his way home from work like he always used to do. He could be done by the time I even cross the river into Maryland. Laundromats are not my happy place.

Hyperbole #1 - The commute sucks the living spirit out of my soul.

Home is the one with the lights

Week one odometer reading

The best candy ever

Living Aboard, Week 1 Spoiler alert: It’s all first world lessons here.

Alison says:

Spoiler alert: It’s all first world lessons here.

‘Twas more like “move into my car” week. My carbon footprint may not have been reduced by giving up the townhouse with its utilities and cable internet. Sharing the boat with Kurt truly was refreshing after having always lived apart, and he did good on his promise to have dinner ready for me when I returned from work. The new appliances in the “kitchen”  (what IS the marine word for that? I can’t remember, and apparently people care about correct vocabulary.) work quickly and efficiently. But most of the week was really just about jumping up at the alarm 5:00 AM, taking 11 minutes to get dressed, teeth brushed and rolling into the car. Pit stops at the well-lit bathhouse are easier now that I know where to turn in the predawn darkness. That took until Wednesday to get clear into my geographically challenged self. My average time to school this week was an hour and thirty minutes. Afternoons led into evenings quickly with racing out of school as soon as the last student leaves at 4:20ish which gets me back in time for dinner. Tuesday night’s math class was painful, but the trade off was zero traffic at 7:00 PM. And the darkness at 7:30 PM is really the same as the darkness at 5:30 PM this time of year. Pollyanna lives!

When I reset the odometer Monday morning my goal was just to figure out what an average week’s worth of gasoline would look like. I had absolutely no idea that it would turn 1,000 MILES in one week. ONE THOUSAND, FIFTY-TWO miles to be more precise. Pulling into the marina parking lot this afternoon after today’s staged reading gig in DC and a girls’ day near Charlottesville, Virginia yesterday, marked the end of a really long week of driving. Next week should be significantly less, but I had to refill my 13-gallon gas tank every other day. Grrr. Thank goodness for cheap gas averaging $2.00 a gallon these days. So this month of baseline budget data collection is going to be more complicated than I expected. I am sure there will be variations in my driving pattern and I am sure I’ll get used to it. But I’m not sure I can reconcile the fossil fuel consumption. Is this Tiny Living offsetting it and making the commute a less horrific impact on the earth? For now, I have to focus on getting this down payment savings started. The good news is the commute does cost less than renting in Arlington, so there will be significant savings this month. In fact I have paid off one outstanding debt and am ready to knock another out. Those are two goals I have been chipping away at for months, and now they are purged! Kurt and I will even have money for Christmas gifts without going into debt. So my decision to do this crazy live-aboard project IS like having a second job as Kurt has suggested. Only my second job isn’t like my colleagues’ moonlighting jobs of tutoring, babysitting, retailing, dog walking or marrying well. My moonlighting job is to drive long distances and live with my love. Sure wished Kurt and I lived in a country that actually cared about the people who care about the children. But we don’t live there. Looking on the bright side and ignoring the gasoline consumption, it was a good week.

Random things I learned this week:

It takes 10 miles driving in normal I-495 (Beltway) traffic to consume a peppermint Tootsie Pop.

“Tell the Bartender” is the preferred, story telling podcast in the morning, but “On Being” works well to unwind in the evening, with the grand exception of Krista Tippet’s interview with John O’Donoghue from 2008. I listened on Tuesday morning (when an accident extended my commute to two hours and fifteen minutes) and it inspired me to find one of his quotes as soon as I got to school and use it for my daily poetry inquiry with my sixth graders! An awesome conversation ensued.

The guy at Starbucks in Lusby thinks I don’t know that he filled my cup with regular coffee on Monday when I was still in shock for my first commute day. It took me until Thursday to figure that out. I ordered an Americano. I needed espresso. The Friday barista got the order correct, so I will continue to order Starbucks on the mornings I don’t need gas. Or maybe I’ll start experimenting with life the way my sister lives and not be so dependent on coffee. Not any time soon, Heidi.

On the mornings I do need gas, I have learned that Wawa coffee isn’t very good, but it can be doctored without too many calories. As a trade off to bad coffee, their sausage, egg and cheese croissant keeps me happy for at least 30 miles.

It’s very good to come home to my husband.