30 Years in a Housetruck

Chapter Three - Page Twenty Two: The Schoolhouse

July 4, 1975

Morning arrived, and we considered what we should do with this first day of our new independence. I was still interested in going to the coast, but Woodley wanted to go back and see what Rosalie and her house mates had decided about allowing us to move in. Since we had no idea how far away the ocean was, but knew that it was only ten miles or so to our possible new habitation, we eventually decided to go that route, taking back roads over the ridge and into the Camas Swale valley, arriving some time around mid afternoon.

Since we didn't want to be too forward, we parked our trucks on the side of the road below the house and walked in. Rosalie told us that the house mates didn't hate the idea of renting to us, and that they were more interested in what type of people we were than where we slept. She also told us that there would be a House Party that night in celebration of the holiday, and that we should plan on staying so we could meet the other residents.

We told her that our house trucks were parked alongside the road, but not really all the way off the pavement, and that we were uncomfortable leaving them there after dark. She told us to pull them up into the driveway to clear the road.

The party that night was mellow, we met the other residents, whom I will introduce over the course of the next few installments. Rosalie's boyfriend, Chuck was there, and perhaps a few other acquaintances, and/or neighbors. There was a meal of organic, home made vegetarian pizza with hand-cranked banana-carob goat's milk ice cream for dessert. Party favors included red wine and beer and other consumables. Music and lots of talk.

A bit after dark, a vigorous thunderstorm blew into the area, and we all went outside to the deck on the south side of the house watch the "natural fireworks". Everyone was getting off on the aerial displays and crashing thunder until the bolts from above started hitting the top of the small ridge behind the house, about 500 or so feet away. I'm not sure that we were any safer inside the house than out, but being that close to such a large amount of raw energy was too much for our heightened senses, so we took cover in the living room.

The night wore on, the wine and beer ran out and the consumables were put away while there was still some left. Everyone packed into cars for the trip home or shuffled off to their room/cabin/housetruck, and the night, the party and the holiday were over.

And that was that. We were moved in. No one ever even asked about it again, we were just accepted into the household.