Up here in my high mountain camp, I believe I am the victim of a conspiracy. I’m not talking about a conspiracy theory. I’m talking about the real thing.
It started with my longtime friend whom I was planning to visit. I reserved 3 weeks at a Thousand Trails campground not far from her, and was looking forward to hanging out. But she let me know a few days in advance that she took some housesitting gigs to earn needed funds and she would be out of town most of the time I would be at the campground. I believe she is part of the conspiracy.
So I went to the campground anyway because I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. People on my FB groups speak highly of it. I asked the guy at the entrance station if he could help me find a site as I’m very confused the first time I get to a new campground. He said no he could not help me find a campsite and gave me some BS story about how it was a liability issue. I believe he is part of the conspiracy.
I drove around the campground and absolutely hated it with a passion. Crappy dirt sites and geese and geese poop and green canals. I thought: “The word aversion was invented for this moment.” Massive aversion.
I realized there was no reason for me to be there, so I quickly changed my reservation to my favorite campground not too far away and near a high-altitude, artsy fartsy hamlet that I love, love, love. I arrived in my happy place and set up camp.
Two days later I went to a spiritual support group meeting down in town and the leader was a rabbi and she said she was giving a memoir-writing workshop in two weeks. She is part of the conspiracy as well.
As it happened, when I was trying to purchase The Tiny in December 2016, I promised the universe that if it all worked out and I could buy the trailer from my friend, I would use it to write my memoir. But with all the time and effort it has taken to adjust to life on the road this past 7 months, I had completely forgotten about my promise to write my memoir. A few days ago I borrowed an audiobook from the library to listen to on my daily walks, and it happened to be a memoir. Suddenly I recalled my plan. This memoir author is part of the conspiracy.
It took a lot of participants to place me on this mountain at the time of the upcoming 3-day memoir workshop (where my dog is welcome to come with me). I assume there was a meeting, perhaps some kind of video conference call with my friend and the guy at the campground and the rabbi and maybe even a few geese, and together they hatched this plan for me.
I’m grateful they went to all that work on my behalf. I am blessed.