Hot Air balloon floating over Deluxe Mobile Home Park.
Other Half and I are back in Ohio for a good chunk of the summer. We’re once again located in Walbridge at Deluxe Mobile Home Park. We’re fortunate to have gotten our spot back this summer as this place is popular with the traveling trades – men and women who move from job to job across the country.
The trades come in serious work trucks with a variety of rigs – fifth wheels, travel trailers and motor homes. They also come with a variety of dogs, everything from 10 pound Yorkies to 150 pound Great Danes. It’s an interesting place to be.
At it’s heart, Deluxe is more of a neighborhood than a campground. In addition to the trades there’s a community of year round residents. Since this is our second time here, we’ve gotten to know a few of our neighbors and their dogs. One of our neighbors has a Corgi puppy, now there’s a CUTE dog.
We’re happy here. The place is clean and the people are great. Both of us were anxious to get back and once we’re here it’s all about reconnecting with family and friends.
It’s also about feeling weird.
It feels weird to look forward to a grocery store trip, especially for me since I’m known to avoid it until we’re running out of coffee. Meijer’s is the grocery store I frequented while living here. I have to admit, I was excited to shop Meijer’s ASAP when we got back.
It feels weird to be happy about pickles. There’s comfort in shopping where you can find your favorites – like Tony Packo’s Sweet Hot Pickles. Despite limited storage space, I bought six jars and plan to stock up again before we leave (even if they get stored in Other Half’s underwear drawer).
It also feels weird to know it’s possible you’ll see someone you know while knocking on a watermelon. A familiar face is unlikely on the road, but I always look just the same. In my pre-Open Road life I viewed grocery shopping as a chore to be completed as quickly as possible and incognito. Now I welcome a chance to see someone I may actually know.
It feels weird to be here and not be the place for Sunday dinners. We do still cook and we can have a couple people at a time here for dinner, but it’s not the same. We no longer have the big house with lots of seating and lots of silverware for lots of people. When I’m here I miss preparing a 3-pound meatloaf and a vat of mac and cheese. When I’m on the road, not so much.
The other thing that feels weird when we’re here but not when we’re on the road is being a one car family. That’s something I was certain I would never agree to. So much for certainty. One SUV, one bicycle and one Big Rig, that’s our current transportation options. We make it work.
So why did we put ourselves in a position that makes everyday stuff feel weird?
I’ve been thinking a lot about that. We could have easily stayed put in our comfortable home living our comfortable life. Our life was fine. In lots of ways it was much better than fine.
But somehow fine just wasn’t fine anymore.
So here we are, feeling weird. But it’s all good. It’s ok to feel weird. In it’s own way, feeling weird feels exciting.