Radio Kuralt

More PT Camper Conversion Info

Katie — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 04:47:31 +0000

Thanks to a request for more info by a visitor here I’m going to go into a little more detail on how the Cruiser was turned into a camper.

First things first: All seats were removed but the driver’s seat. This left a huge bit of cargo space.

The weirdness began when the seats were gone and I started driving it around town. On one hand I felt kind of cool like a mail carrier and I felt as if I was sitting up very high. But I never really realized that I always put my hand on the back of the passenger seat when I was back the car up, so when I automatically went to do that I almost fell out of my seat.

Next, Kenny built a platform to level everything out. We wanted it to be as long as possible and the exact width of the interior – I also needed every space utilized so the under platform cubbies were ideal. Plus I could store things out of sight.

These areas eventually held my two burner stove and gas, lantern, rope, binoculars, tripod and monopod, toilet, emergency battery charger, electric fan, wasp spray, tissues, tp, baby wipes, jumper cables, and a few other things you’ll have to read the upcoming book to learn about.

Then the shelf and bed…
The shelf was a simple rig that proved highly effective, just a shortened piece of those closet storage plastic coasted wire jobbies. The bed was an extendable toddler bed from Ikea.

The tricky part was making sure the shelf was stable and strong but also flexible enough to move, if need be. Once we found a driver’s seat angle I felt I could live with for however many months (yeah right) then we zip-tied the piece to the head rest of the driver’s seat and then to every latch and hook the PT thankfully provided. Still a little wobbly so we tied a simple cord between the shelf and hanger hook…

My storage bins were cheap plastic jobbies from the dollar store that I zip-tied to the shelf so that things wouldn’t go flying with any quick stops or turns (a choice that would prove wise on many occasion).

The storage bins held my sheets and thermal curtains, as well as a light throw and I also had a junk drawer for everything else…

As you can see, the junk drawer contained everything from tear gas to a head lamp, to fog horn, to knife, to nag champa… the finer things in life.

I also had to be very careful while rooting around not to lock my keys in my car so I created the ritual of always hanging my keys on an extra bit of shelving right behind my front seat. In my entire trip I didn’t lock my keys in my car but did it within about one week of coming back to Orlando.

In deciding how to store the rest of my stuff under the shelf I went back and forth on what to do. I didn’t need the entire width of the bed so the area under the shelf was free game, though I didn’t like stuff near my feet while sleeping but I also didn’t want to hurt myself or be annoyed by banging into something in the middle of the night. I strongly considered canvas boxes but nixed it because of the angles. Instead of spending more money I just used all the cotton grocery bags I’ve collected over time and simply tied them through the under side of the shelf, in between the baskets above. Eventually I would collect so much crap that all I did was wedge them back under the shelf instead of tying them.

The slats in the shelf made themselves useful time and again, from holding lights to acting as a picture gallery. Those touches of home kept me tethered and centered when the anxiety rushes sometimes kicked in. Won’t lie, had more than several occasions when I wondered what the hell I was doing and why, let alone waking and wondering where I was. I’m pretty good at figuring it out quickly now.

One thing I didn’t get to set up before leaving or while on the trip was a kid’s toy hammocks that I was hoping to stretch taut up on the ceiling of the car and then use that for storing light clothes. Never got to it, though.

And my big mistake was in taking WAY too many clothes and shoes, never considering that in a few months I’d need winter clothes. Wasn’t sure I’d really be gone that long seeing as I left in early June. I’d also become quite a hiking junkie and soon had the gear to prove it, if not the space to store it. Snow boots, snow jacket, two hiking packs, an extra walking pole and then a suitcase for a possible emergency fly back to Florida all made for one very cozy camper. I had clothes stuffed under my front seat too, that I never wore.

Note the red satin heels I love dearly and never wore once.

Because of the tight quarters it was a constant shift required, where in the day in town I’d have my laptop, cameras and audio gear all tucked under the hatch shelf and the curtain (my old shower curtain) velcroed up in place to hide it all. But then at night all that stuff would need to come out and up so I could sleep. So the back bolster pillow went up, everything else went up on shelves or in front seat and then the pillow went on top of the cooler (which added loads of head space) and then my feet went under the hatch shelf…

This photo of course shows the setup sans crapola and it’s also before I figured out to aim the cooler in the passenger seat area toward the rear of the car and put the pillow on top. I had to reverse it and sleep with my head under the shelf once or twice, based on the level of the car wherever I parked, but I didn’t like that at all. Except that if in a very public place the dark green sheets and my head under a shelf made me disappear completely.

In the beginning I always put the curtains up on the finger hooks I had drilled into the car but eventually I was more comfortable being able to see out even though that meant people could see in…

At the start, camping by myself was scary as shit. And it also made me very cautious of how much liquid I consumed because I did not want to be peeing in the woods or traipsing to the bathroom in bear country. At the risk of TMI the freshette girl peeing funnel is AWESOME and so are Gatorade and Arizona Ice tea Bottles. And if I were rich I’d buy stock in unscented babywipes, just saying. As my road savvy increased I started eyeing bottles specifically for their potential pee worthiness. This from a girl who used to put on makeup to run to the 7-11.

Marfa, Texas is where I got the chance to become comfortable car camping because the town is so quiet and safe. The weather there was extremely hot in the day but then got cold one night and hot the next, so the mosquito netting came in handy (but for flies). I just got a huge net from Bass Pro shop and cut it into pieces and then opened a car door, draped it over and long enough so nothing would fly up and in and then closed the door on it and lowered my windows some. Once I put one quarter curtain up just to block the moonlight I slept like a baby.

The bolster pillow that I debated on taking (which in truth was just the extra piece of the toddler bed) was a great multifunctional item. It not only blocked the back window when I needed privacy, it also turned my bed into a couch, which yes I used (though these picts are from before trip).

I ended up spending a lot of time in my car because it was really the only constant I had. It’s where I regrouped if things got weird. That’s also why it was important to set it back to rights every morning by folding up my curtains, putting things back in their proper place, even knowing that by night’s end I’d just reverse it all again. But this was my home, such as it was, and though tiny I needed to have it back in order in the day to feel good. If I could have worked out some sort of Zen look at night I would have loved it but it looked like a freaking train wreck every night.

Plus having it in order made it nice to come back to when unexpected things laid me low, like sun poisoning at the Grand Canyon…

Overall I was careful to keep a low profile because I was not only a female traveling alone, I also had Florida plates and my few things of value in the car (laptop/cameras/audio gear) are how I make a living. But some people were really cool and curious, like a neat couple in Austin and some great folks in Prescott, AZ. It was a hoot to see them look the camper over and exclaim they didn’t know how I could fit in there. Truth is I’d look at her from the outside and wonder the same thing.

And the beauty is the car is so unassuming from the outside. Like one day I was supposed to meet a friend in Denver but I was really early and it started to rain, so I pulled over on the side of a road, locked the car and took a nap. Hell, I’ve done that here in Orlando plenty times since and I kind of regret on a daily basis taking the camper back apart, even though I’ve still got all the goods for it.

We went though so much together, this little car and I, and I have to admit that until this trip I really just thought of it as a car and nothing else – which is so unlike me. She became much more like the little engine that could, even though sometimes she couldn’t (see my stories about being towed over the Rockies or breaking down outside of Tuba City and in Flagstaff, and the Grand Canyon, etc).

We didn’t make it all the way through the route I had planned, due to all sorts of reasons from dwindling funds to winter coming on. But we also took a number of beautiful detours, saw so many awe-inspiring sights and met some fascinating people. While in it I was mostly just one foot in front of the other, not really processing how crazy a journey this was on some levels. And only occasionally would I look at my little camper with a jaundiced eye, as if seeing how it might look to someone who really didn’t understand it all. But even those I thought might judge were actually incredibly cool – and though they didn’t look at me as if I were a hobo who was tetched in the head, everyone I encountered cared for me and nurtured me in a way that makes me believe in humans in a way I never thought possible. Yep there’s a lot of pain in this world and some unsavory characters – but overall I was treated with love and kindness and dignity, even when I became so raw that a hug was my undoing and my idea of sheer luxury was a bathtub, a warm meal, a glass of wine and a dog, cat, or donkey to pet.

This trip took it all down to the core about what matters: communion, kindness, shared experiences and new perspectives. It’s been one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been given.

Ah So That’s What I Am

Katie — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 21:48:17 +0000

I recently thought about the fact that my website’s called Radiokuralt but it’s been months and months since I’ve done any radio. Until recently I looked at each career ebb and flow as some defining factor – a nudge from the Universe disguised as a big photography gig, “Oh well I’m a photographer.”

Then projects like StoryCorps and Marketplace came along and I got the powerful notion I was a radio producer.

And right now my bread and butter is coming to the table thanks to the written word.

But what’s changed is that I am still all these things, yet now okay with that. I like communicating my ideas and the ideas of others in whatever way seems most appropriate.

Do I have bionic ears that always hear a symphony in the cicdas? No.
Can I always get the image in my mind to be truly reflected on paper or on a screen? Not hardly.
Are there days when the nuances of “your” and “you’re” elude me? Oh hell yeah.

I envy my ridiculously talented friends who focus and really excel at their one big outlet. I think if I ever did that I would be world class at something. Instead I dabble and people thankfully enable me on all sorts of levels.

In doing all these things, and by some grace, I sometimes touch peoples’ hearts. On a gloomy day of the soul that actually means a whole lot. Because in seeking the truth of my existence I found out I currently have no purpose for being. And that sucks but I didn’t always feel this way. I felt I was here to make a difference, to make the world a more connected place. I don’t know that I buy that any more but I do know that I once had purpose so can probably find it again.

Until then I’ve got what arts advocate Margot Knight calls a Princess File, the good reviews and career highlights that document my existence. My work.

So to every artist I’ve interviewed, every story I’ve shared, to every sight that prompted me to schlep out my camera, to every thought that just needed to bubble out – thank you.

And to every listener, reader and viewer who’s said something positive or constructive, THANK YOU.

And to the industry that finally came up with a title for us free spirits, I thank you.

I am a multimedia producer. I will most likely never be at the top of my game in any one arena. But I don’t like games anyway. And I’m a hell of an interesting guest at a dinner party. And through it all, the highs and the lows, I’ve had a really good time.

Happy Birthday Shine Salon and Nora’s Wine and Cigars!

Katie — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 15:13:10 +0000

Shine Salon celebrated its 13th anniversary with yet another AMAZING party. It was booty shakin and off the chain meets great talks with some of Orlando’s most intelligent and talented people. Yep, only at Shine. (Disclaimer: if there are any photos of the event you should know now that I was not at the party and the girl that looks a good bit like me is an impostor).

I just wanted to give some props because I have a lot of friends who are independent shop owners, so to see both Shine reaching a milestone and Nora’s Wine and Cigars celebrating its 7th anniversary makes my heart swell with pride for the people behind the counter and in front that keep the doors open year after year.

As I mentioned with my last post I feel my place in Orlando is somehow shifting but I hope you know how much I love this town. In working on getting my own life in order I will be a lot less likely to sign up to help spearhead this call to action or that, but whenever possible I will be there on the sidelines showing support. Let the tireless ones pick up the baton and run with it. I’ll be outside under the stars talking with some beautifully brilliant people about where we’re all going in life (and also shaking my can til I’m ready to drop).

I Know Miss Munchenstrew

Katie — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 15:18:42 +0000

Ok so I’ve been back in Florida for over a month now. And it’s been strange. Wonderful strange, not-so-great strange – the gamut. I felt a driving need to get back to see my family, family by blood and family by choice. And it hasn’t been without its growing pains, akin to a college kid coming home thinking he knows it all, I guess. Except different because instead of learning and growing and deciding I know it all I really see how very little I do know about myself, about others, about life.

I’m still rolling, though now in my own back yard. I tried to put the front seat back in the Cruiser but then had a string of bad luck incidents and decided the car seat was the culprit. Yes I guess I have officially embraced my more honest role as an eccentric. The seat still exists, thanks to an old friend who retrieved it from the Will’s beer garden. And I’m not so far gone that I think throwing away a couple of hundred bucks worth of car part is the greatest idea. But it felt good at the time.

I’ve been dividing my time between family in Fort Myers and friends in both Clermont and Orlando. “City Mouse/Country Mouse” is what my friend Erynne calls me. I’m still processing the trip, won’t really be handled until I make a book out of it, but right now it’s all about getting my finances on track so that I can take the next step in life (if I ever even get there and whatever that “step” might be).

Just like with the road trip I am deliberately trying to not pigeonhole my plans or ideas because I have no idea where my heart and mind will be in the not-too-distant future, but no matter what I need to hunker down and work, knock out some debt and become financially independent for the first time in my life. Which is why the posts might not be coming as quickly as they have in the past. I’ve got other stuff to write and I am thrilled beyond measure that people are actually paying me to do it.

And as weird as it sounds I have developed an allergic reaction to the Orlando scene. It does not mean that I don’t value the community I was in and it’s various off-shoots. It does not mean that I don’t value the remarkable people that make up said-scene.

You are family.

It does mean that I am still far more comfortable grabbing a beer or coffee with one or two people than I am chitchatting at a show. The conversations don’t have to be all life-changing and deep, I’m still a dork. But I prefer more authentic interactions with more genuine people these days.

Most people I know and love are absolutely heartfelt and genuine but that doesn’t mean that our connections are at any given moment. We’re often like kids with shiny toys/moths flitting around a flame/eyes never lighting on any one person for too long. “Let’s do lunch, no really.” With five other engagements scheduled for the same evening, never truly centering and focusing on any one of them. That’s the person I was and that I’m working to let go of. That’s the person that now makes me as uncomfortable as walking amongst a group of angsty frat boys or seeing a drunk that I know in my gut can turn mean.

It doesn’t mean the people I love who are still in the game and I can’t hang, but it does mean we need to find a new way together if we’re going to be able to move forward as friends. It’s tough, like graduation day and it hurts a lot. I have cried buckets since recognizing this shift and seeing it play out again and again. But the major upside is that I value my genuine relationships (old and new) all the more for it.

And what’s weird about this shift is that I’ve had some amazingly profound conversations with people I only once knew in passing. I’ve also had some blazing misunderstandings with others I’ve always loved and admired. It’s like two best friends ending up in different schools or something. I’m still finding out what friendships are going to withstand the test of time and change. I’m still finding out who my people are, aren’t, and really never were.

I’d say it sucks if it weren’t so much a natural part of growing as we do this crazy living thing.

But I will ask this: Think for yourself.

All too often the good part of a close-knit community can get distorted into something very ugly if there’s a good story to sink our teeth into. I have lived this truth, and on both sides of the equation. I used to think living my life a certain way meant something; it still does but not for the reasons I once imagined. My truth is mine just as yours is yours. Sometimes they’ll resonate, sometimes they won’t. But my truth does say that none of us “owe” each other anything. Just as you don’t “owe” me your understanding and love.

Yes, it would be nice if hurts could be healed, misunderstandings could be talked through and unraveled. It would be nice if we took the tragic loss of great people as a reminder that we never ever know when our number’s up. It would be nice if we could all just be happy for the sake of being happy instead of finding something or someone to vilify to lift us up; to make us feel More.

More happy, more sane, more talented, more justified – whatever.

But we’re humans and this is what we do. Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery” is not fiction.

Though we also do amazingly beautiful things – together and as individuals. So much so that Orlando is home no matter what.

But I’m moving into my own house, metaphorically speaking. I’m working to clean it up, to care for it, to call it mine. You are always welcome to visit but please call first. And if you need a place to crash of course I am here for you, until I discover that the relationship is one-sided or lacking in any real depth and then it’s a heartfelt “love and light to you” as I shut the door.

We fill up so much of our time and expend so much energy on too many people who would never really have our backs. Why is that? There are only so many burners we’ve got so why do we do that? I don’t know.

So anyway this is where my head is at as of Stardate 1/30/2012. I currently come and go into Orlando and I love seeing friends (old and new) and talking about where the other is at in life. And I still love being goofy and raising a pint. But I have no desire to be one of the fish in the fishbowl any longer. Big fish/little fish – any size. If you have questions about something please ask; If you have something to say, please say it. If you have the urge to say something about someone that you’d never say to their face, reconsider. And if you love people let them know.

Or don’t. Your road is your own just as mine is mine. But if and when they intersect I hope it will be with a smile and an open heart.

Until then…

Facebook Sucks.

Katie — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 18:44:13 +0000

Most folks know of my love/hate relationship with Facebook. I’ve been off of it since August (?). And here’s what I’ve found: I have deeper and more genuine conversations with a few people now because I am not in their pocket 24/7, nor are they in mine. Some of my friends actually pick up the phone, email or shoot me a text because they want to talk, and I do the same with them. Some of us even make plans to grab a cup of coffee or a beer. And some of us actually follow through on said-plans and actually have the cup of coffee or beer.

Novel.

Here’s what else I’ve found: With all the “connecting” that Facebook does it also creates a false sense of knowing between some people, and yes sometimes can strengthen and cement friendships, too. (I do see the benefits of the medium, of course).

But on the whole we are sliding around on a very slippery path and here’s why – I have recently received second-hand news about different friends who have had an ER visit, a motorcycle accident, the birth of a baby, and two wedding engagements. Why did I hear this all second-hand? One reason is I guess I’m not as close to these people as I originally thought, or it’s the basic ebb and flow of friendships, which is totally understandable.

Though what I’m thinking is the real reason is a much more insidious thing – it’s because I choose not to be on Facebook and everyone else chooses (and I mean EVERYONE) to streamline their information output and input through one social media source. A source that will most likely fall by the wayside when some new flavor of the week comes along.

So here’s what I ask – out of love and out of a bit of a different perspective because I chose to step away from something I felt was personally unhealthy for me: Love your people; tell them; show them. Live as genuinely and feelingly as you can but don’t forget to have fun, too. Remember who your people are while you’ve still got them. Life is incredibly fragile and if we all rest our communication and engagement efforts into the one basket that is Facebook then we are all missing out. Love and friendship is not effortless; it takes making a conscious effort to be in another person’s life and putting in the work. And I am just as susceptible of losing track of the days and thinking I should be in better contact so please don’t think I’m not looking at my own ways of engagement as well.

But what I’m seeing is an all too rampant superficiality and yes laziness when it comes to maintaining friendships. And where it concerns me is that I’m seeing it from remarkable people who are not superficial or lazy at all. This is all a side-effect of the times. So I’m asking for one of a few things: please consider streamlining your cyber “friends” to a manageable minimum (or at least to people you’d actually consider grabbing a beer with) and also remember that people you love/people who love you are not all on Facebook. Look at who really matters in your life and keep them in your life in a real and valuable way, because when they’re gone you can’t simply hit the Refresh button. Please try to do what you can to maintain the real friendships that matter to you and I’ll try to do the same.

Though I doubt anyone will read this because I didn’t post it on Facebook.

Sing it, Iris.

Katie — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 17:28:30 +0000

A vid of one of my favorite drives…

Katie — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 04:08:48 +0000

Highway 145 (going through the San Juan Forest in Colorado) has got to be one of the most beautiful drives I’ve ever had the joy of experiencing…

To learn more about the San Juan National Forest look HERE.

The Little Engine That Could (When she could…)

Katie — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 22:21:34 +0000

I loved this drawing so much I had to share. Drawn by JD Cliffdweller of the Grand Canyon, Salida Colorado, Washington State, etc…

Light bulb and Driveway moment…

Katie — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 15:57:56 +0000

As I mentioned, I’ve been trekking around Florida, staying with family and friends while doing my multimedia work. I’ve also been researching spots for a new place to live. I love the idea of hiking in the mountains on a regular basis but I’ve been thinking the energy of the NC Triangle would be better for me, overall. I’ve also got documentary making friends in the area and that’s more comforting than residing in a town without knowing a soul. As this trip winds down, the challenging part has been in settling into a new space to get into a work routine, then moving on again. Everyone I’ve stayed with has been lovely and willing to let me stay for however long but ultimately I need my own space.

The thing is working to save up for the first/last/and relocating expenses of the few things I have left (what’s in my car and an 8 X 5 storage unit). The Durham area is looking really good but there’s been something sticking in my craw; something I couldn’t figure out until I went out to my car last night. I sat in the back for a while to get things reorganized because when I started this trip I didn’t have a snow coat, snow boots, two hiking packs, hiking boots… these are things that are useful, or will be further north, but they’re taking up space that doesn’t even exist. But as I rearranged the camper/car I felt a sense of calm and focus and remembered a saying that my friend Patti sent me, “Quit waiting for everything to be perfect. You have everything you need right now.” And while I appreciate the sentiment and it’s a good optimistic way to look at things it couldn’t really resonate with me until I sat back in my car and realized how it made me feel, which was comfortable and at home in a surprisingly tiny space.

I morphed the catch-phrase to my own angle and said “What do I want and what “things” really matter to me?” Because I had been without a lot of my possessions for 7 months and the few things I hauled around made me feel at home and centered, even with the constant change.

The theme of a home that’s mine has been swirling around in my mind long before ever embarking on this journey. But the idea of gathering up the initial $2,000 for the privilege of getting a roof over my head and to house my “stuff” somehow seemed like a back-step for me, personally.

We all have different needs, goals and priorities, and while I some day dream of owning land and a home I don’t feel so hot about sweating it out for a place that isn’t really mine, in any one year-round destination. I have friends who are blessed with property and others who are shackled by it; many who dream of it and sometimes pine. I’ve been there.

But on many occasions on this trip my Cruiser was my home and I loved it.

Was it ideal? Hell no.

Didn’t I sometimes feel too confined? Yes.

Yet at the time it was the most sensible choice to help make a dream become reality. Still, in coming back to Florida I started to think in the old way I did before leaving, in the way that we were all brought up to think. Grow up, get a career, buy a house, have a family… I don’t look down on any of these things by any stretch of the imagination but I’m really trying to look at my particular circumstances and how to live as true to Me as I can. The world has changed, there is no job security any longer. And as a freelancer I’m afforded certain freedoms but also limitations because of my career choices; and as a freelancer it also scares the hell out of me to try and commit to a yearlong lease in a brand new town.

So long story longer, while the idea of saving up money for another apartment doesn’t feel so hot I am ready for some consistency again in my life. I’ve tried to feel at home wherever I went and I made huge strides but I’m also a creature of habit and am far more productive when I set myself up with some sort of routine. So instead of finding home wherever I go I think I really want to aim to keep my home with me.

Instead of gearing up to settle down in an apartment I’m strongly considering saving up for a little camper and doing it up.

I’ve got a lot of research to do to see if this move will truly be cost-effective in the long run or if I’ll be spending about the same to park it here and there, but with less comfort than in a more traditional home.

I’ve always been obsessed with Airstreams, little Burros and canned hams and always viewed it as a lottery fantasy or something I did “when I retire”. But who retires these days? The whole point of this trip was in enjoying it Now. But I always thought that “home” and camper would be two completely separate things; not so much now.

Frankly, the idea of paying to haul stuff to another town (spending more than the stuff is worth) to live in an apt I can’t paint whenever I damn well feel like it makes my stomach jump. Whereas saving up to make a mackdaddy little camper my permanent yet portable home really excites me and can possibly tackle many of my logisitcal concerns (Loving Colorado, Southern Texas, NC and Florida… wanting to see more of the country, having my own space, living a financially more simple life…) Again I have to see if this is feasable but it’s where my head is at and while it might not sound “normal” it feels right to me.

And yes I have some lovely things; some old, some new, and some things I would never ever get rid of but others are just “things”. I think I’d rather have fewer things that I really love than a 2br apt full of filler; a smaller space is going to put that theory to the test.

I won’t do anything rash; family treasures need to stay in the family… but it looks like in shifting priorities the 6ft red couch I love but couldn’t figure out how to transport may end up finding a new family to help me reach my goals. I’ll keep you all posted.

So anyhoo, that’s where my head is at right now; I’ve got a lot of things to look into and this may not end up being the best way but right now I’m going to focus on this path. If you can send good energy my way I would greatly appreciate it – and if you hear of a sweet-ass deal out there I will be looking for the following…

A small camper trailer (13 – 16ft and needs to be under 2,000lbs while I’ve got the Cruiser)
With sink, stove, fridge, toilet, shower.
I love the old vintage campers but it has to be physically sound, though in need of cosmetic repairs is totally fine.
Some styles and brands to be on the lookout for: Scamp, Casita, Shasta, Scotty, Airstream (lotto fantasy), Burro, T@B, or any no name canned ham-style campers. See picts for inspiration!

This is an attempt to help manifest some awesomeness and to bring awareness to the task at hand. You’ve been with me the whole way and it’s meant the world to me; if you all can be so kind as to keep an ear and eye out I would greatly appreciate it! I’m also totally up for receiving any links on cool designing tips and ideas, too.

Until, happy 2012 and I hope that it’s everything you hope for!!!

Some inspiration…

(lotto fantasy…)

Hi all.

Katie — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 21:22:41 +0000

Just wanted to let you know that I am alive, I do exist. Making the trek back to the Southeast took some doing, which consisted of working/stopping… working/stopping. Here’s a big heaping thank you to the folks that fed me, housed me, made me laugh, gave me dogs and cats to adopt, if only for a few… The kind folks at Mondello Manor, Marty’s Mansion, Chrystian’s Corner, and Butch’s Bodega are some of the key players in this return journey; and many back west who didn’t want to see me go still helped me make it happen – The Richardsons, Reeds and more… all of these folks are the truest of friends. And you pals across the country who continued to donate to the fund when I said or wrote something that struck a chord – no words can express my gratitude.

The big drive to return was that I was real homesick for my family and wondered if I had it in me to face another financial or logistical setback; that with my hiking bros heading to Michigan I knew it was time to make my way back for a few. I limped into Ft.Myers 6 months/1 week after I left Florida, nursing a good dose of bronchitis, a gimpy car and a kind of raw disposition. But there’s nothing like family to cure such a thing (well family and also a Z-pack). My sister made some beautiful meals, I awoke to coffee every morning, and woke up once in the middle of the night wondering where I was (I still do that a lot) and was so happy to know my Mom was in the next room over. I lost two friends while I was gone and I couldn’t help but worry I might not make it back to see the people I love most, or that they might not be around when I did. But thankfully everyone’s accounted for. I shot numerous rounds of HORSE with my nephew, had some liberal doses of spiked homemade egg nog and celebrated Christmas with my closest peeps.

I then came in to Orlando to see a number of friends and was shown great hospitality by friends Patti and Brian and Nora, as well as all who bought me a beer, made me a meal, offered me a hug and some genuine conversation, thank you!

Seriously. The love shown has been overwhelming.

And now I’m roaming the various towns of Florida, visiting gracious friends, working on numerous paid web gigs and formulating a plan for my next adventure. Yes my car’s still a camper, and most likely will stay that way until I finally find my new place to call home. My current plan is to hunker down, build up some cash and to set up shop in a nearby State in order to start a new life but to also be within a day’s drive of my tribe. It’s time to process everything I’ve experienced on this journey. And yep, write another book.

My brain is still scrambled, the constant moving has rewired my synapses or something so that even when I know where I am I’m still programmed to morph it with previous places (seeking out the red cutting board from Stone Mountain while in Chattanooga and remembering it to be from Denver is one such instance; and then physically starting when my friend pointed out a Publix because until she said it I had forgotten I was back in Florida).

Yeah. So it’s been a trip, for sure. It’s one of the greatest gifts I have ever received, both by me and by you.

More details soon, but until then have a WONDERFUL and prosperous 2012.