Silver Streak: Why the Hell are we doing this??!!

Paul and I moved to Oregon on September 3rd. The four-weeks following brought record rainfall and an awning-crushing windstorm. We've struggled with propane leaks, clogged plumbing, more painting then I ever thought possible, dripping skylights and windows that refuse to close all the way. And just last Tuesday I arrived home to find the Silver Streak buried beneath a foot of snow.

December threw us into the coldest week on record since 1972, when ironically my parents were living in a trailer in Oregon and their pipes exploded and turned the inside of their tiny home into an ice skating rink. Good thing they had that experience to pass on to us so we didn’t have to experience it ourselves…

Our grey water tank froze solid which meant we had to disconnect everything and go without water for several days. We live just a few hundred feet from my Uncle’s house where we can shower and wash dishes, so it’s really not that big of a deal. But this is America. The land of convenience. And living without water is a HUGE inconvenience (just ask some of the fine folks of rural Alaska or watch this short film). In times like these I can’t help but think… wow, we could have easily rented a house in Portland and continued our comfortable urban lifestyle… but instead we decided to live in a thirty-year-old trailer with erratic plumbing and virtually no cell phone service. Why the HELL are we doing this?

Well, this is why…

I believe in living small.

When Paul and I take the time to put our clothes away, wash the dishes and clear the clutter, our little home feels like just enough space. Moving into the Silver Streak has forced me to downsize and really examine what I do and don’t need. I don’t need a giant wardrobe. I will never need four bathrooms. I don’t need fancy dishes. And too many pairs of shoes just get in the way. Someday when we decide to buy or build a house I hope to maintain a balance between minimalism and excess. I like to be comfortable, but I don’t want my comforts to pacify my sense of adventure or restrict me financially. I want to maintain a clear understanding of my needs vs. my wants.

Family is important to me.

Paul and I are fortunate to share 100-acres with my aunt, uncle and my grandparents. We cook meals together regularly, we run errands for each other, and at least a few times a week we chat over coffee, chocolate and graham crackers. My brother lives thirty miles away in Eugene along with two of my cousins and my grandpa. Whether its mushroom foraging, running, hiking, lunch dates, vodka tonics or sampling Oregon’s finest brews, I see all of them every week. And there is nothing better. The only heartache in all of this is missing Paul’s family back in New York and New Jersey – we are working to remedy this with relatively frequent and lengthy visits.

I am learning how to fix things.

While I’ve always been pretty resourceful, I barely have the spatial reckoning to comprehend the inner workings of a window crank… How does turning a funky gears from the 1980’s make the window open? I’ve never really understood why things work the way they do. Like electricity… Why do lights come on when I flip that switch? Or gas of any kind… Why does propane make the heat turn on without causing explosions? I will never know the answers to these questions if I don’t have proper motivation. And proper motivation includes being cold and sitting in the dark. I don’t have all the answers yet, but I’m working on it.

Convenience makes me soft.

We used to put our trash on the curb twice a week without really thinking about it. Now, a trip to the dump takes at least an hour and costs $15. Making the least amount of dump runs possible has become a kind of game. A game that can easily be lost by purchasing too much prepackaged food or too many bottles of wine. The store is also really far away so I have to think about what I’m going to eat and how I’m going to get it here. A lot of the food we eat grows on the property so we are also constantly considering the weather, the wildlife and the human attention that goes into it. Believe me, if your 87-year-old Grandpa planted a walnut tree, gathered the nuts every fall, and spent hours painstakingly removing the husks before drying them by the fire, you wouldn’t dare drop one on the floor.

I was recently visiting with a friend who said that he hoped to one day have enough money to hire a personal chef and a laundry service so he would have more time to do important things. Sure, that would be nice, but it would also make me soft. Even worse, convenience allows me to lose track of my impact. I am human. I breathe air. I drink water. I eat food. I have dirty laundry.

When we are directly connected to our food, water and waste we can better maintain a clear understanding of how our actions affect the very elements that keep us alive.

Paying off debt requires sacrifices.

Getting out of debt meant we had to do things differently. Leaving Brooklyn was a start. As much as I love New York City, I rarely left my apartment without spending at least $20. Everywhere I looked there was fun to be had… the type of fun that is all at once delicious, intoxicating, magnificent, exciting, one-of-a-kind, brilliant, and beautiful. And, almost never free. I have very little self-discipline in the face of fun, so for me, the answer was to move far, far away from it. Our current life plan allows me to stay on track with photography and allows Paul to continue playing music for a living, all the while paying off debt, and maybe even saving for a bigger house someday.

And yes, we still have fun. As illlustrated in the video below.

 

  

 

Comments

[Shelley Toon Lindberg]

I love your musings about your new life here in Oregon. First, they make me smile because you are learning at 30 what I learned at 40. Overachiever! You are on a noble path with a good partner to share it with...what more could you need.

Love and light to you both.

[Katie]

My husband and I are trying to live a more simple, less materialistic life after becoming a one-income family after the birth of our daughter in 2012. We also tend to have little willpower with the temptation of fun, but we are doing pretty good I think. We play little games, like go one week without Starbucks and then we can have a nice Saturday morning breakfast at the local coffee shop. (we live in suburbia) Our food budget tends to be our biggest expense, as we buy organic, high quality food; not pre-packaged junk.