live. work. dream.

Our rig has been parked on the streets of L.A. for the last few weeks, while we catch up on the chisme with family and friends. Life here is as hectic and noisy as it gets, and every day Jim and I are reminded of why we chose to leave urban living behind.

We started 2009 with one goal; find Jerry’s Acres. Seven months into it, we did. Our Colorado retreat now sits underneath several feet of snow, waiting for our return.

With that behind us, we’re getting the other big part of our life in order, namely, making a real income again.

Our defnition of “real income” is different from most people’s. While we would love to be able to spend money on the finer things in life (like picking up a $20 bottle of wine instead of our old standard, Two Buck Chuck), we also aren’t willing to surrender our freedom in order to do so. My very short gig at Satan’s Castle was a good reminder about that.

People wonder, what do we do. How do we make any money? Well, we don’t do any one particular thing anymore. We don’t want to have one business again. And we don’t want to rely on one job to bring in money. We believe that putting all of your eggs in one basket is risky business, much moreso than varying your skills and finding multiple ways to generate income.

For us now, tiny bits of money trickle in from various web-based outlets that utilize our technical, design and writing skills. In 2010, we’ll work on building up our income revenue streams in these areas.

The money is iffy, the hours are long and uncertainty always looms over our heads, but we are much happier than we ever were in our previous lives. While we are still officially in the red and dipping into savings, I know that 2010 will be the year we are back in black, finally. It would be great if we could actually contribute to our retirement accounts once more. When that happens, I’ll know that we’ve truly been successful these last two and a half years.

On that note, I’ll say “Adios!” to 2009, and give 2010 a great big welcome. May this year bring the prosperity, joy and peace that we all need more of in our lives.

And many thanks to all of you for being a part of our world. Life would be pretty boring without you!

Regular readers may remember that Jim and I aren’t exactly big gearheads. With our frugal lifestyle and relatively non-existent income right now, we must carefully choose the gear we need, to get the most out of our budget. And we understand that there’s a difference between being cheap, and being frugal. Buying cheap gear is always more expensive in the long run.

Take for example, this North Face jacket I’m wearing during our stay at Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park in Colorado. The jacket has served me well for the last 8 years, but lately I’ve been thinking that it’s time for a replacement. This one was cutting edge at the time, but by today’s standard it’s bulky, heavy, and army green isn’t exactly the most flattering color. It’s also overkill for our winter travel adventures in the temperate southwest and should probably be left at our Colorado home base.

Coincidentally, I was introduced to The North Face Resolve jacket today, through Webtogs, an online retailer specializing in quality outdoor gear.

The North Face Resolve jacket features include:

• seam sealed, waterproof, breathable fabric
• soft, lined collar
• stow-away hood
• mesh-knit liner
• storm baffle front zipper with double front closure
• big pockets on both sides
• athletic cut with a drawstring cord for tailored fit

As you might be able to see in the photo, I’m a walking billboard for North Face gear. My boots and jacket are North Face and so are the base layers I wear. Their products last forever and hold up beautifully, making them a frugal RVer’s dream.

The North Face Resolve jacket looks compact enough to fit in our tiny RV wardrobe closet, yet sturdy enough to give me the protection I need from the spring rains in Texas.

With Christmas around the corner, I think it’s time for an upgrade, don’t you?

It wasn’t the work that did me in. It was the fact that I cannot be part of an organization that does not value the Individual.

From high school to my first office job at an insurance company, large impersonal institutions and I just never got along. Had I remembered this before I decided to work at Satan’s Castle, I could have spared myself some grief (and been in a warmer climate by now).

Last week we were supposed to start 12 hour shifts, but instead, almost every day, we got sent home after just a few hours of work. “The volume isn’t there,” said the outbound shipping department manager. Soon it became clear that the long hours and overtime Satan used as bait wasn’t going to materialize. His cheerleaders have been hitting the airwaves on NPR and CNBC, yet things have been very, very slow for us here at the Nevada warehouse.

With each shift cut short, I wondered if I was going to be able to cover the cost of December’s rent at the RV park. My patience was wearing thin.

Even more frustrating was that I just learned via Workamper that the lower-paid cogs in Kansas are getting more hours than we are. My theory is that Satan is cutting costs by shifting the bulk of the work to locations that pay less.

The Final Ingredients

Sunday morning, one of Satan’s minions walked up to me with a clipboard in hand. She was one of the nicer ones, who actually tried to remember workers’ names. The first thing she said when she saw me was “Rene, you’re going to hate me.”

She put her clipboard on my workstation, and showed me a warning notice that said I wasn’t “making the numbers,” one week into another outbound shipping job I was put on. The warning was based on the volume I processed, just two days into the new job.

I was stunned, because the Agency’s rules state that we have four weeks to get numbers up to that level. Yeah, I knew I was slow during my first few days, but for the last three days, I had consistently “made the numbers.” I couldn’t understand why I was getting a warning based on week-old volume.

The notice stated it was a “Final Warning,” but this was technically my second, because I had been kicked out of my first job for not being a “team player.” Every employee is supposed to receive three warnings before getting fired.

As a final insult, my name was misspelled on the warning.

Satan’s Minion was asking for my signature to acknowledge the warning. But I didn’t, and instead I said to her “They’re full of crap. This is only my second warning, and I was told I have four weeks to get to that production level. Why aren’t they following their own rules?”

The Minion got a distressed look on her face, and then out of nowhere, she started crying.

“I’m so sorry Rene! I hate this job! This is all I do all day long, and I only get fifty cents an hour more than you do! Yesterday I had to fire a 70 year old lady with Parkinson’s because she couldn’t make the numbers. They’re having me fire people after just a few days into training. This place is horrible! I just put in my two week notice because I can’t take it anymore!”

She stood there crying, while I looked on, stunned. She was very pregnant, and said she really needed the money, but she just couldn’t work for a place that treated people like crap.

I felt badly for her, but I was going to stand my ground.

I refused to sign it. I told her “I’m sorry, but I want them to tell me why this is a ‘Final Warning,’ and why I’m being expected to meet Week Four quotas. They’re ignoring their own rules. I won’t sign it, I can’t.”

She agreed it was wrong, and she said she would look into it, but couldn’t promise anything. Then she left, and five minutes later, another minion came by to announce that we all had to go home, two hours into our shift. There wasn’t enough work. “Come back tomorrow,” she yelled to us.

What’s It Worth?

As I clocked out and walked through the metal detector exit, my head was spinning. Could I stand working there for just four more weeks? Could I live with the uncertainty of the hours I was getting, or of being fired any minute without just cause? What if all this agony doesn’t even cover the $400 in rent I had just paid for December?

On my way home, I remembered that the RV park owner had said that if things didn’t work out during the first four days of the month, she would refund the rent and charge me a daily rate. That’s when I knew what I had to do.

I pulled into the park and stopped at the office. I asked the manager if I could take her up on that offer. Thankfully, she did.

I went to the rig, and told Jim what happened.

I won’t work for a company that relies on fear tactics and bullying. Maybe some people can tolerate that kind of environment, but I won’t. I have my self-respect, and cash-crunch or not, know I am worthy of better treatment. Life is too short.

Then I picked up the phone, and made my stand. I called Satan’s Agency to tell them I quit.

Jim is thrilled, and now I feel like a huge anvil has been lifted off my head.

Looking back, I realize that I took this job because I was letting fear rule my life. Almost three years into our sabbatical, our dwindling savings account is telling me that we have to get serious about making money. But instead of buckling down and earnestly working to make our new business venture happen, I opted for what I thought was the quick and easy way out; the false sense of security one gets with a paycheck. What a sham.

Instead of following our dream, I took the paved road to hell, and paid dearly for it.

Over two years ago, when our last box got taped shut and we bid farewell to our remaining stuff, I wasn’t sure if I could live with the few essentials that we had packed in the rig. I assumed we would end up buying duplicates of things we had put in storage.

But in all this time, we only needed to acquire a few household things that we had put in storage. They were:

• Two kitchen serving spoons
• Some dish towels
• Drink pitcher
• Toaster
• Cookie tray
• Rechargeable batteries
• One Pillow

Keep in mind that this is just household stuff. The clothes we’ve acquired along the way are a whole different matter . . .

I’m kinda proud of what we’ve lived on for the last two years. One rule we’ve lived by for the fulltiming RV lifestyle is, when it comes to kitchen stuff, whatever utensils we have in the rig must serve at least two purposes. A single use tool has no place in the RV galley. In our new home base, I think I’ll stick to that rule.

The best advice we got for packing? Carol White’s Live Your Road Trip Dream book. Don’t hit the road without it.

Fort Collins is great because it’s a small town with big city amenities, especially when it comes to food. With three farmer’s markets, and plenty of natural foods stores, including Whole Foods (aka “Whole Paycheck”), I haven’t experienced the gourmet foods deprivation I’ve felt in other small towns.

But too much of a good thing is wreaking havoc on our budget. Yesterday I went into Whole Foods chanting the usual mantra “I just need a few things.” All I wanted was some produce, some bulk foods, and good lunch meat for Jim. Two bags and $56 later, I walked out while shoving the receipt in my wallet without giving it a second glance.

To my horror, today while going over the receipt, I discovered that those tasty organic “essentials” included a small bag of bok choi that cost $5.10, and two apples at $1.56!

In preparation for our upcoming home purchase, I’m freaking out about money. We’ve been kind of careless about our food bill since escaping the grind of homeownership two years ago. So today Jim and I discussed things we can nix from our spending habits to make life a little less expensive.

At the top of our list of things to avoid is Whole Foods. Unless we want to go broke before we settle into the new digs and get another business off the ground, we won’t be setting foot in that upscale foody store again.

Too bad there isn’t a Trader Joe’s here!

A few weeks ago we jumped the gun. In our excitement to actually commit to something tangible again, we told you about a fixer-upper house we were in escrow on.

I’d like to apologize for our premature announcement. We didn’t get the house.

Instead, we pulled out of that nightmare-waiting-to-happen, but only until our offer for a better property was accepted.

We haven’t wanted to say anything, fearing that we might jinx the deal. But now it’s safe to spill it, since we are closing escrow Monday at 11 am.

What Really Happened

We are now the proud owners of a 3 bedroom 2 bath mountain home, on 4.98 acres in Red Feather Lakes, about 50 miles northwest of Fort Collins.

A few weeks ago we learned that our fixer-upper had a very questionable foundation lying underneath it. Cosmetic repairs are one thing, but buying a house with bad foundation can be a horrible mistake. The heartbreaking news brought back bad memories of our previous money pit, of which we had to put a $23,000 foundation underneath. I cried as we debated whether or not to move forward on the deal.

That’s when we received a beautiful statue of St. Francis, from our friend Heather.

St. Francis was sent in honor of the 9 month anniversary of our Jerry’s departure, which happened on the Feast of St. Francis. Heather sent this to us on Jerry’s behalf, with an encouraging message essentially telling us to hang on to our dream. She had no we were already in escrow for the fixer-upper. “It’s out there,” she said, don’t give up.

Days later, as we were just about to give up on our search here, we saw the listing for something that sounded too good to be true.

Why We Bought It

Priced way below market value, the sellers are divorcing and just wanted to dump their weekend getaway. As soon as we saw it, we knew this was the spot we’ve been looking for.

It fits our criteria perfectly. It’s a simple, affordable property that won’t get us into debt. It sits on manageable mountain acreage near a town we love. And it’s almost within 2 hours of a major airport (Denver). The house is 9 years old and has hardly been used. It’s in perfect working order; it even has running water and heat! Other than the ugly kitchen cabinet doors, we love it.

The house lies in a beautiful mountain subdivision with exorbitant HOA fees, but they get us year-round road maintenance, and all the fishing Jim wants on about a dozen private lakes and river frontage. We could live here all year if we wanted to.

At 8400′ above sea level, Red Feather Lakes is a cool summer escape and a winter wonderland for Fort Collins residents. There’s a small community nearby with a couple of restaurants, a bar, a convenience store, gas station, and a post office. Many people live here year round, as Fort Collins is an easy drive to make. What more do we need?

It’s as close to perfect as we can get, but there’s just one problem:  Unlike the last place, which had a big flat space for RVs, this house sits on top of a gradual slope. and the driveway isn’t big enough for more than two RVs, at least until we do some grading. But, the good news is that the subdivision runs a nearby private campground with full hookups ($20 a night) for property owners’ guests.

So, with many thanks to Jerry and his pal St. Francis, and everyone who encouraged us to hang in there, we can safely say that we have found our dream property at 21 Hopewell Court, Red Feather Lakes Colorado.

I know my thoughts about the homeownership myth seem contradictory to what Jim and I are doing right now (buying a house), but hear me out. . .

For too long, Americans have been shammed into believing in the homeownership myth. We have been fooled by our banks, our lenders and even my financial guru, Suze Orman, into believing that buying a home is the greatest investment we’ll ever make.

It’s a lie. Over the years there have been studies that show that if you take the amount you spend on a home and put that same amount into the stock market, even in horrible markets like we have now now, the stocks will always yield a greater investment over the long term than the house will. So, why have we always been so convinced by financial “experts” that overextending ourselves to buy a show home is such a great investment?

Now that people are waking up to the fact that buying a house isn’t going to get us on the Forbes Who’s Who List, could we be entering a new era when people finally understand the true cost of home ownership?

I just finished reading John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley, his classic road trip journey into the heart of 1950s America. In one section of the book, I was pleasantly surprised to find Steinbeck’s musings about the exciting new era of trailers and mobile homes in the 1950s. He was captivated at the thought of a home on wheels, and interviewed trailer park dwellers to ask them about their choices to live in a trailer instead of a stick house. One of them explains:

“Who knows that is in store tomorrow? . . . If a plant or factory closes down, you’re not trapped with property you can’t sell. Suppose the husband has a job and is buying a house and there’s a layoff. The value goes out of his house. But if he has a mobile home he rents a trucking service and moves on and he hasn’t lost anything. He may never have to do it, but the fact that he can is a comfort to him.”

Steinbeck goes on to say that even if the homes are financed through a lender,

“the payments, even if high and festoned with interest, are no worse than renting an apartment and fighting the owner for heat. And where could you rent such a comfortable ground-floor apartment with a place for your car outside the door? Where else could the kids have a dog?”

And so, I ask you, dear reader, when was it that trailer parks started getting such a bad rap?

Steinbeck asks a father living in a trailer court: “One of our most treasured feelings concerns roots, growing up rooted in some soil or some community.” How did they feel about raising their children without roots? The man answers him with:

“How many people today have what you are talking about? What roots are there in an apartment twelve floors up? What roots are in a housing development of hundreds and thousands of small dwellings almost exactly alike?”

Steinbeck wonders, “Don’t you miss some kind of permanence?”

The father answers::

“Who’s got permanence? Factory closes down, you move on. Good times and things opening up, you move on where it’s better. You got roots and you sit and starve. You take the pioneers in this history books. They were moovers. Take up land, sell it, move on. . . “

He adds: ” . . . suppose the place I work goes broke. I’ve got to move where there’s a job. I get to my job in three minutes. You want I should drive twenty miles because I’ve got roots?”

Even back in the 1950s, being able to go where the money is just made so much sense. I’d like to know when this ideaology fell by the wayside, and we started believing that being a chained to a mortgage and a big house was the smart thing to do. Everyone wants a nice place to live, but what’s the real cost of that lifestyle?

So, why are Jim and I buying property? Because there’s got to be a happy medium, dontcha think? For starters, it’s nice to have a break from campground fees. And we also need a place for our stuff! We think we can reconcile our need to roam with property ownership, because we’re only buying what we can afford, and won’t be indebted to a bank. Without that threat hanging over our heads, we’ll still have the freedom to live on relatively little income, move with the seasons like snowbirds, and go where the work is, if and when we need to.

At least, that’s the plan.

We got our home inspection report back and among all of the other things we know need to be fixed, it pointed out that the house is sitting on a poorly constructed foundation.

Jim isn’t as concerned as I am, he’s confident the house is still a good investment.  Me, on the other hand…I”m freaking out. We’re getting estimates on the repairs now.

Today I was just about ready to back out of the deal. Foundation work is expensive. We had to put a foundation under our last house, and it cost in the neighborhood of around $25k.

But then we talked to our realtors. They wanted to help us feel better about our decision (whether we went forward or not), so they helped us come up with a negotiating tactic that might lower the cost. Whether or not the bank will go for our demand is anyone’s guess.

Meanwhile, our realtors dropped everything to spend the entire day with us, and showed us a dozen other properties in our price range. Every single one was a dump, none were as cool as our current one. After seeing the junk we could get with our money, I did feel a little better about the scary foundation report.

At least there aren’t any earthquakes here, right?

The search is over, all votes are in. After two years and about 40 states, we’ve determined that Colorado is our favorite spot, and Fort Collins is our ideal town.

But many other people also know this, and real estate prices here remain high, even in a supposedly down market.

The search for our dream property has been frustrating and emotionally charged. After two months of hard searching here, we finally accepted the hard truth;

we have enough money to buy a few acres of land, but not enough to build the kind of house we want.

Living in our RV is fine, but the whole point of buying land was to put something on it that could hold our remaining stuff (presently in storage in California), while we continue roaming the country as digital nomads. We thought about just building a garage, but after doing so, it wouldn’t leave us with enough funds to build a future house too.

And so, we widened our search criteria to go beyond raw land, and include fixer upper houses and cabins. That’s when we walked into the sad new world of bargain basement foreclosed homes. Our realtors have tons of experience with repo properties, making the process less daunting.

Last week, we made an offer on a sprawling ranch house set on nearly one acre of horse property, about 10 minutes from town. The offer was accepted.

We instantly liked this place because:

• The area is rural and quiet, but still close enough to the fun stuff in town.
• It needs a ton of work, but extensive house rehabs are nothing new to us.
• The property is big enough to park multiple RVs on (hear that, NuRVers?)
• At the peak of the market, it sold for twice as much as we’re buying it for now.
• And the biggest reason we took the plunge: it’s a bargain, and we can stay debt free, even after repairs.

Surprised? So are we. It’s not quite what we had in mind when we first hit the road in search of Jerry’s Land. We originally had visions of off-grid living in some remote, rugged location like Lake City. But the last few months have been a good reality check. We’ve learned that:

If we want a seriously rural lifestyle, we’ll need a lot more money to do it comfortably, not Ted Kaczynski style.

We don’t feel like this is a compromise. We’re getting into this property because it’s practical; it fits much of our criteria, and everything indicates we can double our money after repairs.

We like the home enough to live on indefinitely, but it’s still one more step we’re taking to reach our ultimate goal. Like Jerry would say, never give up!

The house won’t be livable for some time (notice the leaning chimney?). It’s stripped clean inside (Jim is standing in the kitchen area in this photo), and needs extensive repairs from new plumbing to a roof. While it looks scary, we’re not running away. At 1,895 square feet, the house isn’t exactly small, but not nearly as daunting as our previous fixer, a 3,770 sq. ft., 106-year-old Victorian.

In the meantime, we’ll spend the rest of summer here, go back to Texas in winter, and return in spring. We’ll live like hillbillies in our RV out in the horse pasture, and one by one we’ll knock projects off our punch list without a contractor. In-between, we might even start a small garden and grow some kind of specialty item to sell at local farmer’s markets. We’ll need the funds.

Escrow closes sometime around the end of July. Stay tuned. More adventures are sure to follow.

In Colorado, it’s easy to find biodiesel distributors in major cities along the Front Range. We recently fueled up in Fort Collins, and were pleased to find that the cost of biodiesel was more reasonable than ever. It was about nine cents higher per gallon than regular diesel, but not as bad as the last time we went looking for it.

But my joy at the cheap price quickly disappeared a few days later, when I read the latest news about the biodiesel industry’s assault on the rain forest and orangutans. As oil prices rise, the industry is  accelerating rain forest destruction, just to grow the palm trees needed to produce this alternative to oil. Manufactured biodiesel is now as morally corrupt as anything big oil manufactures, if not worse.

I used to be a real believer in biodiesel. But these recent relevations are just so depressing. From now on, we’ll only be purchasing biodiesel if it’s made from 100 percent waste oil, or we’re making it ourselves.