In March of this year we traveled in our RV from Texas to Colorado to get married in a remote castle. We stopped in Amarillo, TX to stay the night at an RV park to split the road trip into two travel days. I visited the giftshop and found a particular treasure that’s grown in significance in our home.
A small pewter toothpick holder in the shape of a hedgehog.
It’s weighty’ in feel for being slightly larger than my thumb. And the back has tiny sporadic drilled holes to accommodate twelve toothpicks. I actually purchased it for aesthetic reasons because I appreciated the contrast of the warm natural wood toothpicks against the metallic cold pewter.
When we travel in our camper the hedgehog is intentionally secured in the silverware drawer as to not fling off the counter during transit. It’s become a part of our “setting sail checklist” of securing any detached objects. Upon arrival to our new site, it is repositioned back in it’s rightful home on our kitchen counter. We rarely use the toothpicks for it’s designed purpose of teeth maintenance and the distinction of contrast is still appreciated aesthetically but it’s true purpose has morphed into a symbol of togetherness.
We sold our 3,000 sq foot house in December of this past year and June 20th will be six months full time in our RV; the longest we have ever lived in our camper for consecutive period of time. This is a temporary season for us as we continue to search for our next home. It’s been interesting to see what new routines and habits surface while in a home on wheels.
When we lived in our house, we would return from the grocery store, the sacks would be abandoned to the counter and strewn about the kitchen floor. My husband and son would “leave me to it.” I didn’t particularly mind being left alone for a good duration of time to reset the fridge. I often times even savored this lonely task of wiping out the drawers and shelves for a speedy tidy before restocking groceries in a new orderly fashion. It was an instantly gratifying task but I found myself always forcing my husband and son to return to the kitchen to peer into the fridge to see what I accomplished. They would ewww’ and ahhhh’ dramatically for a moment and snag something off the shelf and return back to whatever I interrupted them from.
One of the new routines that camper life has brought about is resetting the fridge as a family. Of course it first began due to proximity as we now live in a 37 ft bumper pull. The sacks are still strewn about the floor and it feels even more chaotic because there is actually no where to stand in our humble 365 sq foot quarters.
We step up into our camper and the door is shut and we all begin with our designated jobs. My husband has a list of items that we divvy up that go to the garage or toy hauler portion of our camper. And I line up an assembly line of tasks for my son Atlas to work through: the plastic egg storage container is set on the floor with the carton of eggs. My son’s role is to move all the eggs up to the front positions of the container followed by him restocking the new fresh eggs to the rear. I also set the plastic Kleenex boxes on the ground for restocking, a bin that’s designated for apple sauce pouches and other miscellaneous straight forward tasks that a four year old can accomplish with ease but still requires commitment.
I quickly found I savored this feeling of togetherness and working as a cohesive unit on the same task more than the old days of the solo resets. Once Atlas has completed all of this tasks, the final job, the most important one is restocking the toothpick hedgehog. This is a signal to my son and now to us that our shared mission is nearly complete. Often times the rounded wooden toothpicks do not require a full restock. Quite often it’s only requiring one or maybe two empty toothpick holes in need of replenishment. But with a quick slight of hand, they are discreetly discarded. I hand an empty pewter heavy little hedgehog to my eager son and place a small pile of rounded toothpicks in his other open palm.
It’s the most tedious task even for me. And he’s had moments where he’s knocked it over emptying all the toothpicks and has become frustrated at times. He’s never given up and we’ve always managed to get all twelve toothpicks re-homed in it’s holder with minimal tears and massive feelings of triumph. The hedgehog most certainly is the hero of this story. A reminder that small things can hold a large amount of weight, and triumphs are generally sweeter when earned together.
I’d like to invite you to take the deepest breathe you’ve taken all day.
Inhale…2…3. Exhale…2…3…4.
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Breathe in, Breathe out gently.
BeckA 🎠
Blooper Audio Clip