By Perri
Back when we were raising our teens, living in a house, working jobs that required a to-and-from, dirty dishes were one of those not-so-little annoyances. I’d wake to find that the kids had been feasting: Pots of mac n’ cheese scum, yolky plates, and post-sizzle dumpling pans choked our generous sink.
For an early-riser, trying to catch a few peaceful hours before the head-on press of teaching middle school, this was NOT my favorite part of the morning.
My attempt to solve this problem was a handmade sign declaring “The Sink is Closed!” I’d clip the sign to the kitchen faucet once the dishwasher was set up at night. In theory, the kids would load up the leavings of their nightly chowdown, run the dishwasher, and voila!, easy mornings!
You can imagine how well this worked out. (Not so great)
But the sign itself had legs! It became a family joke. “The sink is closed!” was probably one of our most repeated phrases in those late-teenage years, when the three kids were hustling out to sports events and games and school on their own. We used to text each other pictures of that sign… hanging forlornly above a sea of dirty dishes. Humor was important in those years.
I still feel sentimental about that sign.
And now… no sink at all.
Freedom isn’t Always Free (of Dishes)
But that doesn’t mean that clean-up is easy. I miss the days when I could casually rest a plate in a safe, designated spot like a sink and get around to it later.
One of the unexpected things about van living: there is presto-chango, all of a sudden “freedom”.
Chores don’t go away. They become more immediate, pressing even. Unwashed dishes mean flies and sun-baked food scraps. They just can’t happen.
We do our dishes as soon as a meal is done now and in a wholly different way. No warm dishbath. We conserve a spritz of soapy water like nobody’s business, rinse and wipe with a spray bottle of vinegar. Put those dishes back in the chuckbox because otherwise they take up ALL our counterspace.
Van chores require innovative new systems. We even have to think about what direction we face the van when we park up and where we will set up our table to maximize shade and wind and ease of dinner prep. In other words, chores take up brain space.
Do or Not Do. There is no Later
Van-life has an immediacy that’s hard to describe. There are so many things that have to be done… and no getting-around-to-them-later.
If we want to eat, we have to set up our kitchen. If we want to work, we have to sort our power needs, either drain the Jackery or find a park or cafe with power outlets available. Refilling water tanks is not negotiable, neither is laundry, which grows to Bunyan-like proportions if not attended to weekly. Even showers and (ahem) pooping require pre and post planning.
Sometimes people ask me what I do all day at camp. And, aside from exploring and walking and reading TONS more books than I used to…..I’m really not sure. The days hum along: setting up, taking down, poring over maps and planning grocery and laundry stops, cooking, cleaning. Each day feels interesting and long and busy. There’s hardly time for anything else.
It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a couple of months on the road. Iowa was soooo long ago. Our life “back home” even more distant.
Time passes slowly when the sink is always closed.