Vermont to Virginia

Hi Pond Pals, Well, we are on our way! To start, I had my hair done on Friday for a new look that would be sassy and also easy to maintain. Both Troi and I were disappointed that the purple did not take as well this time as last but overall, I am pleased. Shake my head, run my fingers through the hair and voila, looks good. Easy peasy and pleasies-me! For those of you new to our blog, I try each day, depending on how tired I am and how good the internet connection is, to send two emails--one of the pictures of the day as a link to Snapfish and one as an explanation of the pix and any additional musings that strike me about the whole day. Not sure what is the best way to deal with them--read first and then pix or pix and then read or somehow try to look and read at the same time. My narration is in the same order as the pix. Maybe the veteran virtual travelers can chime in with what works best for them. Anyway, Betsy came up to the house on Sat morning to have a farewell breakfast with us and I took the time to hug my baby cat, Attila, good-bye. Those who know me well will be amazed at my attachment to him since I'm really a dog person , but I've been smitten with the kitten from the start--have no idea why. Shadow was hiding out from Betsy somewhere upstairs so the farewells with him were prior to her arrival. We got on the road about 10:20 am --the temp was 34 degrees and there was a slight drizzle. Roads were fine and though the rain was heavy at times, it was a pretty good drive. When we reached Bridgewater I commented on the lines of cars headed toward White River and we were, for a short time, at a loss to explain the traffic in that direction. Then we noticed that most of the cars had Massachusetts plates so I've named my picture--Escape From Killington--like rats jumping ships, the Massholes, as I've heard them called by some, were making their way to the Interstate at White River to head home before the wet roads iced up. Skiing would have been pretty wet and squishy so an early departure for home made perfect sense. Long Trail was packed though! LOL So, some may have decided to just wait it out at the pub! Once we made it over the summit of Killington I sighed with relief but then we saw our first salt truck and checking the temp as we started down the mountain into Rutland we found the temp had dropped to 29! Still the road remained just fine, though the trees were covered with ice! I'd forgotten my meteorology and that temps in valleys are often colder than at elevation because cold air sinks! As we continued toward Fair Haven, a home protection company van joined us on Rte 4 and I was amused to see the license was from Kansas--a house call, perhaps? Between Whitehall and Fort Anne, my sister called to say that her driveway was treacherous with ice as was her porch and that she'd heard from my nephew that the roads in Saratoga and Clifton Park were quite icy. Although she was going out to salt her driveway, where her car was encased in ice, she wanted us to have a heads up. Fortunately, we had no icy spots and by the time we arrive at her house, the rock salt had done the trick. So by 1:45, we'd arrived safely in Saratoga Springs for the night. This stop gets us almost 200 miles on our trip, gives us girls time to exchange Christmas gifts, the three of us to catch up on the news, and just generally feel relaxed for the next leg. Barb had a terrible bout of the flu before the holidays and still is quite weak and so rather than cook, we order in Chinese take-out. That is really a treat for us, too, since we never go out for Chinese anymore and God knows there is no delivery of anything to Post Mills! We had a great time, watched some Olympics--biathalon and hockey with Bill and then figure skating once he went to bed --with a break for Victoria, of course. I retired at 11:30 and Barb sat up watching the Indian Doctor to the wee hours. Up at 6 this morning, who knows when Bill got up?, got Barb up at 6:30 and had breakfast together. After good-byes, including some fortune cookie bribes to get a hug from Damien, we were on our way by 7:30. Out through Ballston Spa and Amsterdam, Florida and Scotch Bush, took pictures of my favorite Church and farm. Then we reached I 88 and headed to Binghamton. Eventually, the dry but really cloudy gray day with 33 degree temperature turned partially sunny--so good to see the patches of blue, despite the fact it remained cold. Soon, we came to the Susquehanna on the outskirts of town and continued on I 81 toward the South--once more it became a bit drizzly and though the possibility of black ice was not far from our minds, the road remained fine. So, into Pennsylvania, easily by Scranton and Wilkes Barre which are sometimes congested with traffic and construction but clear this year. As we continued through Pa, the weather continued to clear and the snow cover diminished--and then, by Chambersburg, the ground was bare, with green grass spots and I found another farm to compare to the one in New York. In Harrisburg we crossed the Susquehanna, the same River from Binghamton! Soon, we were approaching Maryland and I saw a truck pulled over on the brow of the hill. I just knew he was obscuring the welcome sign--and guess what? Guess you don't need common sense to drive a truck. After just a few miles, it was into West Virginia for about a blink of the eyes and into Virginia. We called Choice Privileges and reserved a room at the Sleep Inn in Winchester. Then went to Chili's for dinner, where our barmaid spent a long time chatting with us, since she is from Keene, NH--small world. When her parents drive down to see her, they, too stop in New York State, Tarrytown, at her brother's house for the night before continuing on to visit her. Small world. So, at 6pm, filled with a Caribbean salad and Fajitas for Bill, we checked in and got settled. It is now 750 and Bill as already falling asleep. I'll catch the end of Jeopardy and then watch some TV on my computer since I forgot my book in the car and there is nothing on TV. So in two days we have left snow banks taller than Betsy and 29 degree rainy weather, for no snow on the ground, sun and 50 degrees. I'll take it. Until our next stop--take care and talk soon--KandB

Nomadland by Jessica Bruder-a True Story About Middle Class Survivors in 21Century America

Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century by Jessica Bruder
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Not sure if it was the subject matter or the author's style but found it easiest to read this book in short servings--it seemed repetitive and padded at times, therefore, slow-moving. Still, the basic story of people who are either at traditional retirement age or close to it finding it impossible to stop working and survive is both disheartening and on some level, scary. Most of the people, vandwellers, whose stories Ms Bruder told, either as a one off encounter or a continuing saga, have worked all their lives and either did not make enough money to save, or didn't have a pension, or were laid off and unable to find new employment. They found themselves losing their homes to forclosure, if they owned a home, or used up all their savings as they searched for work and incurred more and more debt. As a final resort they have rid themselves of most of their possessions, found a portable home of some sort, and cut back drastically on expenditures. They travel from place to place picking up part-time low paying jobs, seasonally. They work in Amazon's Fulfillment Centers, campgrounds, Walmarts, concession stands and park the trailer, gutted out car or schoolbus, in parking lots, vacant lots, residential streets.

There are Facebook pages, blogs, websites etc that help to keep them informed about life on the road. Friendships are made at gathering spots such as Quartzsite, Arizona where an annual rendezvous occurs. And, of course, there is email and texting. Many are singles traveling the world alone though many do have families--siblings, parents, children --with whom they do not live, wanting to be independent and not a burden. They forge their own temporary communities and look forward to meeting up again in the future--they call themselves vamilies.

It is amazing to read the physical and mental strength of these people , some of whom are in their 70's and 80's. They do not consider themselves homeless but rather houseless and better off financially for it. They fall somewhere above impoverished and middle class and most have gotten there out of the diminishing middle class. The chasm between the affluent and poor is rapidly growing and the middle class is rapidly disappearing. Laws are being enacted throughout the country to impede the lifestyle of the vandweller and this begs the question, what will become of them??

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