A Tough Decision

There's so much to love down here. The 90 degree temperatures have been surprisingly comfortable. It truly is the humidity, as the cliche goes. Night before last we had what passes for rain: passing sprinkles and two brief (1 min) showers where you could actually hear the rain drop off the roof and hit the ground. As a result, yesterday morning for a couple hours it smelled like the desert, that wonderful scent I fell in love with years ago. I suspect it might be sagebrush, or mainly so. And yesterday while that was still in the air, I emerged from a building with exquisite desert landscaping to see a roadrunner strolling casually away from a spot 10 feet from where I stood.

The problem is finances. Not only did the move cost plenty, but the unexpected sewer repair erased my cushion, on top of which the bills are going up. My auto insurance jumped enough that the combined auto-RV-homeowners bill doubled, now that I'm not living way out in the boonies. Electricity and gas have big start-up costs, and we certainly used plenty of water with 6 people here plus all the cleaning and, again, the sewer repair. Garbage pick-up requires the whole season paid in advance.

On the plus side, energy and water costs should drop back in Minnesota with just two in the house. Gas prices here are coming down a bit, to where I paid $3.41 yesterday. I need to fill up every two days rather than every one, with so little work available. The car got paid off before we left, and major maintenance work done. And Steve listens when he has a wonderful idea but meets with my, "Not yet." His own budget is sending him to the library this morning for their book sale, hoping to return with a basketful of good reading.

So the level of work available is the big crunch factor. It has been increasing, but there are still big gap times, and  the long driving has pretty much been chasing after runs rather than hauling them. That doesn't pay well. Unless they charge way more down here per distance than up in Minnesota, I can't be making a living. I don't know yet. We don't get that information with the runs like we did years ago. We'll get it with our pay stubs, so unless I walk in and convince somebody to cough up that information, I'll know just how dismal it is after Thanksgiving: it's work 2 weeks, get paid the third.

By then I may have decided to be back on my way to Minnesota where I can really earn a living, despite the snow and ice, despite leaving Steve down here to enjoy the climate, no transportation but a scooter with a front basket. That would be a very tough decision, indeed.