Serenica Landship / by Rebecca Tillett

 The Serenica Landship

The Serenica Landship

On November 8th, Mike and I purchased a beautiful used RV, a 1996 Raven XL with less than 50 thousand miles on it. The sellers (the wonderfully sweet Hendersons) were only the second owners and had kept it garaged the entire time they owned it. They also took immaculate care of it and so in many ways, it feels brand new. It is outdated, however, which isn't surprising since it's a '96 so we have big plans to renovate the interior to modernize it as well as make it ours, this spring and summer.

This will be our home for a while.

Our condo lease is up in July. If we manage to get everything done before then (including shedding most of the possessions I currently own) and can find an RV park to live in for a few months (I have a B.A.S. to complete by next December), we'll move into it. If not, we may sign one more lease at the condo and move in the following summer.

I'm not yet sure where life will take us in this beautiful beast (dubbed the Serenica Landship for anyone curious, a nod to two tv sci-fi ships and a pretty great episode of a hilarious animated Fox series I won't name because let's be honest, there's so much entertainment in making people guess), but I'm okay with that. The road is enough. The road is beautiful. The road is host to so many fantastic possibilities. There's something thrilling and freeing about embracing the unknown, about being tied to nothing but each other, about movement and escaping a static and stationary presence. I suppose there's something poetic in acknowledging the forward motion of life in such a literal way.

Most importantly, however, I'm doing this because it terrifies me. Don't misunderstand me. it's excites me, but it also scares the shit out of me. It is a daunting task trying to shed the skins of so many past lives; everything we've been taught to do and say on our misguided American paths to happiness. I am challenging myself to rise above 33 years of good-intentioned but ill-advised indoctrination. I don't doubt that I'll feel homesick for roots and stability and for the many things I gave or sold off to lighten the load but I think every now and then, a purging, both literally and metaphorically, is an absolute must.

I'd like to document the interior renovation here so if you're interested in coming along for the ride, check back or subscribe to this blog. And if you've ever done something similar and have some words of wisdom you'd love to share, I am all ears. In fact, I insist.