live. work. dream.

Back in the 1990s, New Year’s Eve was my favorite time to be an office worker in San Francisco’s Financial District. At the end of the last workday of the year, office trolls like me would gleefully fling the sheets of our desktop calendars out windows, off balconies, and in the air as we left The Office on the final workday of the year.

There was always a huge smile on my face as I biked home and rolled over the littered pages. Crappy boring workdays were now blowing in the wind, just another piece of trash that would get swept up by a street sweeper. As I headed home, I would think to myself, “next year’s gonna be different . . .” I was going make some real changes in my life, do the things I always wanted to do, and go places I always said I would visit.

But as the new year went on, I would fall back into the same routine as before. Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Then, in 2007, real change happened to both Jim and I, when we sold the farm and hit the road. We were finally doing the things we always said we would do.

Yet, even last New Year’s Eve when we were in Florida, I wasn’t certain if that New Year’s Eve would be our last one on the road or not. In the back of my head, I thought there was a chance we would end our road trip as planned, settle down somewhere, and slip back into the routines of domestic life.

Wrong!

We will not be “settling” anytime soon. We love this lifestyle, and will keep our wheels turning wherever the wind blows us, for the foreseeable future.

On this New Year’s Eve, 12/31/08, I can honestly say that next year will be just as wildly different, unpredictable, and spontaneous as the year before. And I’m betting that by mid-year, much of what I expected would happen, won’t. And things I never imagined possible, will suddenly be within reach.

This is the biggest reward I get out of living like a gypsy. If I fully embrace this unpredictable lifestyle with flexibility and a good sense of humor, our year will always be more exciting and enjoyable than I ever dreamed of, during those days long ago when I left The Office on the last day of the year.

Finally, I’m getting to experience the kind of real change that I’ve always wanted in a new year.

Happy New Year everyone! May 2009 be full of joy and happy surprises for you.

Didn’t mean to be such a Holiday Downer. So here’s a quick recipe for some Holiday Cheer…

Let’s get one thing straight first: When it comes to fine cooking and cocktails, I don’t like recipes. But I will turn to one for inspiration and run with it. For instance … Liz’s theme cocktail at her Christmas party this year was a pomegranate martini of sorts.

I forget the exact name on the printed recipe placed by the ingredients, but I was more than happy to oblige as mixologist for the night and improvised with the following:

• Lemon Smirnoff Vodka
• Pomegranate Juice
• Cointreau
• Fresh Lemon
• Soda Water (Optional)

I proceeded to make a pitcher of mix as requested so we could shake, chill, and serve upon request. I doubled the first batch, but it was way too dark. I mean really, three cups of juice!?

I like to taste the vodka in my martinis. I also left out the soda water, after all it was “optional” and no martini I know of calls for bubbles.

The end result was pretty tasty though … if I were to try and remember how I’d got there – for you recipe minded folks – I’d say start with a couple ounces of vodka, add a half ounce Cointreau, splash with pomegranate juice, rim your glass with the lemon, and save the soda for the morning. My only change might be to opt for Absolut Citron inshtead of Shmirnoff.

Living in a stick house with a well stocked bar, this is all fine and dandy. Believe me, ours was well stocked. But living on the road has it’s limitations when it comes to libations. With a cabinet full of bottles we once enjoyed the variety and choice of rum, vodka, tequila, gin, whiskey, brandy, or some combination thereof.

Living in an RV, we now drink the cocktail of the month. Without room to stock multiple bottles, we now focus on quality over quantity and buy one big bottle of good stuff at a time. It’s either Margarita time, or time for a Bombay Sapphire tonic. In a plastic glass of course. Or this time of year, perhaps brandy and cocoa in a travel mug.

So what am I to do with the large bottle of Bailey’s and two real glasses I got in this year’s White Elephant present exchange? Trying to polish off the sweet stuff by the time we hit the road will have us seeing more than pink elephants!

This one is for those who think they might have had a less than Merry Christmas…

Having not been home for the holidays the last two years, it was my turn to play Mr. Claus for the annual Agredano tradition of passing out presents to the little ones Christmas Eve.

Dressed up like Old St. Nick himself, I stepped outside the house where our family party was in full swing. Inside, the youngest nieces and nephews were anxiously awaiting Santa’s arrival.

Bag heavy with gifts in hand, I practiced my Ho Ho Hos, and prepared for the mayhem that usually ensued.

About five miles away, at about the same time, another Santa approached a different house, with less than cheerful intentions.

I was greeted by cheers and proceeded to put smiles on little faces.

At the Ortgea house in Covina, a young girl heard the knock and ran to the door to greet Santa. He immediately shot her in the face.

As the family screamed and ran for their lives, jumping out second floor windows, Bad Santa Bruce Pardo topped off his shooting spree by spraying everything with his homemade flamethrower.

Before the night was over, nine lay dead, the house was engulfed in flames, and 16 children were left orphaned. Here I thought I had it bad by getting a little headache and sweaty brow.

The next day, Christmas morning, Pardo was found across town with a self inflicted gunshot wound. An end that was much to good for him if you ask me.

It’s eerie to think this was all going down while I was doing my own Santa thing just a few miles away. Tragic stories like this one make us wonder how there can be such evil in the world. It makes us realize just how disturbed people can get.

But hopefully, they remind us how fortunate we all really are. And how when faced with troubled times, no matter how bad it gets – whether it be a divorce (like in Bruce’s case), the economy, or world famine – there is no need to go crazy with the racing fuel.

I did have a very Merry Christmas. Obviously much more than some others. I hope you can reflect upon yours and realize how wonderful it was too.

I’m feeling homesick … for our trailer!

We’ve been staying with friends and family for so long now that I long for the comfort of our own home sweet home on wheels.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s great to visit with family and catch up with old friends. But packing a bag to stay in their homes just a few hundred feet from the comfort of my own bed is another thing. I feel kinda like Goldilocks. My back is a wreck from sleeping on beds too soft, or air mattresses on the floor.

And while it’s already been a couple weeks, it’s only just begun. We’re curbside once again, this time for the duration. Of the holidays that is. It may be L.A. but at least we’re staying put, where we’ll get lots of love and plenty of good food. I’m not counting the days yet, but do look forward to getting on the road again.

Silent night? Maybe where you are …

Nevertheless, we really do wish you a very Merry Christmahannukwanzukah and the Happiest New Year! May all your greetings be seasoned.

We may not be all that glad to be parked in Los Angeles for a month, but we are certainly happy to be spending time with family after more than 18 months on the road.

Thanksgiving was spent in our trailer at the foot of Mt. Shasta where my sister and brother-in-law have built and off-grid home.

It was great to see all the kids, who aren’t all exactly kids anymore. And I was able to catch up with my brother, who apparently doesn’t think we’re all that crazy for taking this trip of ours after all.

Christmas will be spent with Los Agredanos, and it’s well overdue. We’ve missed out on all the tamales, chocolate and quality couch time for two years in a row now. And yes, it may be L.A. … but it’s good to be back!

When you live in your rig in the wintertime, your RV oven can do double duty. It’ll warm your belly with great food, and keep your rig nice and toasty too!

Recently, I found this fabulous Skillet Cornbread recipe and tried it out on a helluva cold night.

The bread is the best I’ve made in the RV to date, and it came out great, even though I didn’t have any corn kernels, pimientos or scallions on hand. Give it a whirl next time you’re feeling a chill in the air.

Skillet Cornbread
Recipe courtesy Family Circle Magazine

Cook Time 25 min
Yield 8 servings

Ingredients

• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup cornmeal
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup milk
• 3 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1 egg
• 1 cup fresh corn kernels (about 1 ear of corn) or 1 can (7 ounces) corn kernels, drained
• 1 jar (4 ounces) pimiento, drained
• 1/4 cup chopped scallions (about 2 medium-size)
• Pinch paprika

Directions

Heat oven to 450 degrees F.

Place medium-size cast iron skillet (8 inches in diameter) in oven to heat.

Whisk together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder and salt in a medium-size bowl. Whisk together the milk, 2 tablespoons of the melted butter and the egg in a small bowl. Stir milk mixture into flour mixture until evenly moistened. Fold in corn kernels, pimiento and scallions until evenly distributed.

Using an oven mitt, carefully remove the hot skillet from the oven. Brush the bottom and sides of hot skillet with the remaining 1 tablespoon melted butter (butter will sizzle as soon as it hits the skillet). Pour the batter into the skillet, spreading it to the edges of the pan. Sprinkle top with the paprika. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until the top of the corn bread is golden and begins to crack slightly.

Remove skillet to wire rack and let corn bread cool 10 minutes. Invert skillet onto cutting board; remove skillet, leaving corn bread on cutting board. Cut cornbread into wedges and serve warm.

Since we wrote about meeting new full-timing friends we’ve made online, it’s only fair we give respect to our old home town party people from Eureka.

We had a wonderful Humboldt visit and caught up with many old friendly faces. Much fun was had by all as seen in this short video tribute, with original soundtrack by yours truly on the Yamaha DJX Beat Box that JD Headcase kindly let me go crazy with:

A funny side note … when we originally left Eureka over 18 months ago, we thought about staying at Redneck Acres. (Uh, I mean Redwood Acres.) After a quick drive-by we thought, what a dump!

Remembering this upon our return, I thought no way we’re staying there for a week. Considering the limited choices, I reluctantly agreed to check it out. And when we pulled in, I thought “Hey, this is pretty sweet!”

After some of the places we’ve seen after eighteen months on the road, I guess our expectations have changed quite a bit.

546 days. One year. Five months. Twenty seven days. 13,104 hours.

That’s how long we were away from our comfort zone, the town where our life came together during our 30s, where our business flourished, and where lifelong friendships were formed with great people.

It took us a decade to build up our life in Eureka, but in less than two, our world has been turned upside down.

As we headed back into the overcast skies of Humboldt County, I thought about all the friendships we left behind. We keep in contact with many old friends, but there’s only so much about our respective lives that email can convey. Since our departure, we’ve missed so many important events, celebrations and small town gossip. I wondered:

Would anyone care that we were back? Would our old friends really want to get together, to see us? Had our respective lives moved on so much that we wouldn’t have anything to talk about?

Then, our friend Chris emailed, and said that he and his wife Elaine wanted to throw a party for us at their house. We were stoked, and honored, because the Crawfords do parties right!

My fears were put to rest. Our old friends really did want to get together and see us!

We had a blast at Chris’ house, and throughout our stay in Eureka. For the first time in recent memory, we landed someplace and didn’t feel like strangers. It was like walking into Cheers. Everyone knew our name, and our history. We skipped right past the introductions, and dove into the heart of good conversation among old friends.

Humboldt County is a special place. At four hours away from the closest city, it’s a relatively tight community where residents will come together to help each other through everything from natural disasters to cancer treatment fundraisers. Most residents share a common bond; they live there because they want to, not because they have to.

But it’s not an easy life; the economy has always sucked, and there are numerous logistical challenges that make life expensive. Overall, rural living in a place like Humboldt is much harder than life in a mega-city, but it has far more advantages. The people are at the top of my list.

Ten years ago, we thought that Humboldt would be where we settled down indefinitely. But the weather finally got to me, and real estate prices have gone so high that even if we wanted to buy there now, we couldn’t. I’m glad we returned, because it confirmed what I’ve known for a while; I’ll always cherish the friends and memories we made in Eureka, but we won’t be living there again.

Many world weary travelers warned us; the road changes you. And it’s true. Our priorities have shifted away from buying a home and building another thriving business, to embracing all that life has to offer through travel. It satisfies a spiritual need that I didn’t know I had in me until now. Jim and I both agree that staying on the path we’re on is our key to happiness for the foreseeable future.

And while our chosen lifestyle might not stuff our bank accounts, it does feed our souls. And when all is said and done, isn’t that what living should really be about?

In the past, I was a planner. Our vacations always had an itinerary and our route was always mapped. But I changed my tune after our adventurer friend Ted Simon offered some great advice to me, just prior to hitting the road. “Don’t plan” he said. Forget the itinerary; don’t get a GPS; make wrong turns; and remember, it’s the journey, not the destination, he advised. So far, I think I’ve done a good job heeding his advice.

Take for example, my spontaneous decision to jump into the cold waters of the Oregon Hatchery Research Center, in Alsea.

We had stopped by to visit our friends Jim and Mary, who are workamping there for a while. The morning we were going to leave, Jim and Mary were working with the scientists, taking scale samples and tagging gigantic salmon with a hole punch. They asked us if we wanted to give it a go.

Jim wasn’t feeling good, so he didn’t want to do it. But I was torn; we needed to get on the road to make it to Eureka in time for our party. But, there was my chance to play ichthyologist for the morning. What to do?

I hesitated for a minute, but then told my inner trip planner voice to shut up , and went for it!