Earlier this month, I blogged about buying my new Toyota RAV4 Plugin Hybrid. It was a (typically) long post that covered a lot of my thinking about buying a new car and, specifically, a plugin hybrid, to eventually replace two of the vehicles in my “fleet.”

The Decision

To recap the decision making process, I was interested in four things:

• A practical car that would serve me (likely) for the rest of my life. (I keep cars forever — or so it seems.) I needed something that was comfortable, could seat 4 people, and could carry stuff. It also needed to be able to handle the two miles of gravel road I live on, which is sometimes very washboarded, and foul weather.
• A fuel efficient car that would get good local and long distance fuel economy. These days, hybrids were the best option for that.
• A car that could take advantage of the cheap power where I live. That meant plugging in while at home.
• A reliable car built by a company with a good reputation and dealerships able to service it all over the country. That meant avoiding weird new manufacturers. I want a trouble-free car ownership experience.

Despite the low electricity costs where I live, I was not interested in a full-on EV because I was not interested in planning road trips around charging facilities and charging times. You might have an EV that you love and don’t think charging on a long trip is a big deal. That’s nice for you. I’m simply not interested in trying.

(I do want to mention that if someone sold a super small, no-frills EV, maybe just two seats with enough room in back to stow groceries, and priced that sucker under $10,000, I would consider it for a local-only car.)

I didn’t do much research. I’ll admit it. I knew Toyota’s reputation and I knew they’d been making hybrids for nearly 20 years. I thought about a plugin Prius, but it didn’t meet the practicality requirement. Everyone was talking about RAV4s and when I tried one on, it fit. So that’s what I bought.

The Woodland trim I went with has additional rugged road features that makes it even more practical for my life. I don’t have to worry about breaking it if I go on a rough road.

I made the decision, I started my search, I waited, and I picked up the car. All that’s covered in my earlier post about buying the car.

The Drive Home

I would make this post a lot longer than it needs to be if I went into a lot of detail about my drive home from Boise, which I did as a scenic road trip over three days. All I have to say is that the car performed exactly like you’d expect a brand new car to perform: flawlessly. It was comfortable, the air conditioning worked well in excessive heat, and the Apple CarPlay feature was something I’d been pining for for years, enabling me to follow a map on a big screen while listening to audiobooks and podcasts through the car’s speakers.

I stopped at Hell’s Canyon Overlook on my way home from Boise. The haze is due to wildfires in Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. I’m sure the smoke got worse after that.

Understand that my newest vehicle up to that point is a 2012 Ford Truck. Although it has some nice features in its Lariat trim, it’s nothing like what’s available in a mid-range car built 14 years later. My only experiences with many of the car’s new features were in cars I’d rented throughout the years. Some were great, others were okay, and a handful were simply annoying. (More on that in a moment.) The point is, there are lots of new features in new cars and it was fun to explore them.

One thing I want to point out, though, is the fuel efficiency. When I left the dealer showroom, the car’s hybrid motor battery had just 6% power available. The fuel tank was full, but the battery was nearly empty. The sales guy, Troy, told me that they had just begun carrying plugin hybrids and weren’t set up to charge them. Of course, the batteries were not fully charged during shipping. So although they could top off the gas tank, they could not top off the battery.

(Personally, I think this is a pretty lame excuse. After all, you don’t need a special charging station to charge plugin hybrids. More on that in a moment, too.)

The car has a battery display that indicates the battery level. It didn’t take long for it to go from 6% to 0%, but it built back up when I went down long or steep hills. Unlike a regular car, where you throw away energy when you use the brakes, a hybrid takes that energy and stores it in the battery for later use. This totally changes the way I drive. I am accustomed to using the brakes as little as possible to avoid throwing that power away, often getting to the top of a hill at a slower speed, knowing I’ll pick up speed on the way down. (This is especially true in my truck.) Now it seems to make more sense to try to keep a constant speed since braking is turned into useable power.

Although there was nothing stopping me from charging the battery along the way, it simply was not convenient to do so so I didn’t bother. That was the point of having the hybrid, no?

Anyway, I did 459 miles before refueling for the first time in Walla Walla WA. I took on a total of nearly 11 gallons. The math says I got just over 41 miles per gallon. Not bad.

At Home and Local Driving

At home, I backed it into the garage bay recently occupied by my Jeep. (The Jeep is now where my truck used to live while my truck is in the RV garage with my slide-in camper in its bed. My garage will always have enough room for all of my vehicles and trailers.) It was a tight fit — or at it least seemed so. I needed to get used to using the cameras to get the car in straight; I’m much better doing it now. (I always back my cars in.)

My most recent parking job. I never seem to get it truly centered because of have to navigate around my trash and recycle bins. (I’m thinking I should paint that back wall in the garage.)

After unwinding from my trip, I took out the charging cable, plugged it into the wall, and plugged it into the charging port. The charger that comes with the car works with a standard wall outlet. I have a 20 amp socket just inside the door to the house so that’s where I plugged it in. The cable was just long enough to reach the port on the car which is forward of the driver’s seat, over the front driver’s side wheel. The car makes some unusual clicking sounds when you first plug it in.

There are two little doors that look like fuel tank covers on the driver’s side of the car. The one up front is for the charging cable. The cable just reaches with the car backed in.

There was some confusion over the first day or two about a charging schedule. I’m still not sure if it was set up right and my changes messed it up. The car has an app (if you can believe that) and it was preset with a charging schedule that set charging times. The idea is that in lots of places power rates change based on the time of day. (I remember that being the case when I lived in Arizona; power was cheaper at night.) But that’s not the case here. My power is cheap — 2.8¢/kWh as I write this — all the time at residential usage levels. Anyway, at first it wasn’t charging. I made some adjustments to get the charger going.

I won’t lie: it took a long time. 12 hours to 74%. That’s as far as it got before I had to use the car. I set it into Eco mode, where it prefers EV driving over regular hybrid driving, and went into town. 21 miles round trip took it down to 42%. Then 12 hours (overnight) of charging to get it to 100%.

Now I’ve got the charging schedule stuff figured out so it charges every time I plug in until its either 100% or I pull the plug. Nine times out of ten, it’s fully charged before the next time I drive it.

As far as power is concerned, the Toyota app shows that, too. I did a prorated calculation from the first three charging sessions shown here. 0% to 74% took 12.062 kWh. Divide that by 74 to get the number of kWh for each 1%: 0.163. Multiply by 100 to get the power for 0% to 100%: 16.3 kWh. Now multiply that by my power rate of 2.8¢/kWh: about 46¢.

So yeah: it costs just 46¢ to fully charge my hybrid car’s battery from 0% to 100% power.

Every time I go into town — a round trip of at least 20 miles, depending on where I go — the power level drops by 35% to 50%. So I’m using, at most, about half the battery power. The gas engine only engages during rapid acceleration in Eco mode — for example, when I turn onto the Malaga Alcoa highway where the speed limit is 50 mph — or when I’m climbing hills. A gauge on the dashboard indicates whether I’m in EV (Eco) or Power (Hybrid) mode. I can moderate how I use the accelerator to keep the car in EV mode, theoretically not using any fuel at all. But honestly, it isn’t worth it.

Because I live at a higher elevation than town, I can get all the way down to Malaga Alcoa Highway — a distance of about 6 miles — and not lose a single bit of battery charge. Still 100% when I get to the bottom of the hill. The trip back up eats up a lot of battery charge, though.

Another indicator tells me how my hybrid miles until empty. I can go into town with that reading 333 (using a recent example) and come home with it reading 332. I drove 20+ miles but it says I only used 1 mile worth of fuel.

This might all sound confusing to you if you’re not a numbers person like I am. I absolutely love these stats. I even keep a logbook in the car to list all the mileage and battery usage info. That’s how I’m able to spit out these numbers for you. They’re in my book.

A Fully Charged Road Trip

I made my first trip to Bellingham in late July. Bellingham is 199 miles from my house. About 1/3 of the trip is on winding mountain roads that cross the Cascades at Stevens Pass. Another 1/3 is on the I-5 freeway. The remaining 1/3 is on regular roads with speed limits ranging from 15 to 60 mph.

I started the trip with 100% battery power and enough remaining hybrid miles to get me there with miles to spare. I set the car to Normal mode. And then I drove as I normally would.

The battery dropped to 0% long before I reached Stevens Pass. I should have noted exactly where; I will on my next drive there. It gained a small amount back on the way down the mountain. And then it pretty much stuck to 0% for the rest of the drive.

I did not note the remaining hybrid miles on arrival but it was low enough that I decided to fuel before coming home a week later. I had driven 516 miles since my last fueling in Walla Walla. I put on 9.4 gallons of fuel, which comes to a very nice 55 mpg average.

So yeah: I’m definitely getting the kind of fuel economy I wanted.

I can do some more math here. I normally took my truck to Bellingham. It gets about 15 mpg when I’m not hauling anything. So I’m looking at roughly 27 gallons of diesel for that round trip drive. The RAV4, at 55 mpg, needs only 7 gallons of fuel for the same trip. That’s a savings of 20 gallons and with fuel prices around $5/gallon these days — remember, I live in Washington state and there’s a war in the mideast (for some reason) — I’m saving $100 on every trip.

Other Charging Stuff to Consider

Reality check here: I’m getting the best fuel economy on short trips where most of the trip is done on EV power. So the average MPG I calculated for my second fill up really takes into consideration the local driving I did between fill ups. If I had topped off the battery in Bellingham somehow — I’m sure there’s a charging station somewhere — I would have gotten better fuel economy. I’m not sure how it would have affected my overall cost, though. What does a charging station cost to use? I have no clue. I do have an adapter that enables me to charge with a Tesla charger; one of these days, if the battery is low or 0% and a charging station is convenient, I’ll give it a try. But I seriously doubt it’ll be anywhere near as cheap as it is at home.

I’d love to see what MPG I can get with local driving only. But if I only drove locally, I’d probably go months before needing to top off the fuel tank. My dealer claimed that he had a customer who only drove her hybrid locally; she drove 1,500 miles before needing to fill up her tank.

As for using a standard wall outlet as opposed to a fast charger I can get installed at my home, it doesn’t bother me how long it takes to charge at home. Remember, all I need is 50% to take advantage of the Eco mode features for short jaunts into town. And I don’t use the car every day anyway. I last drove it on Friday (I’m writing this on Sunday morning); I plugged it in Friday evening at 54% power and it was fully charged before 4 AM the next day. It’s been sitting in the garage, plugged in at 100% since then.

And before I consider a fast charger installation, I need to consider what it would cost me. Likely several hundred dollars for the parts and labor. And that’s if I have room in my electric panel for a 220v circuit (I actually don’t).

Comfort, Convenience, and the Other Stuff

If your brain isn’t fried by all those numbers by now — mine almost is — here’s some info that isn’t related to numbers: the things that make you like or not like a car.

I’ll split these into pros and cons. First the pros:

• Fuel economy. I already covered that in excruciating detail. ‘Nuff said.
• Comfort. The car is comfortable. The seats, which are a nice kind of fake leather that isn’t sticky or ugly, adjust all kinds of ways, including a lumbar support. The seats and steering wheel are heated. The climate control can split zones to make a front seat passenger happy. The mirrors adjust perfectly. There’s a moon roof with a shade that I can use to ventilate the car when I park in the sun.

• 
  I found an excellent fast charging USB-C curly cord for my phone. This was before I realized that the shelf had a magnetic charger built in.

  Convenience. There’s a push-button start and stop; I just leave a fob in my pocket or purse. (I admit that took getting used to; none of my other cars have a fob.) The doors automatically lock or unlock with the wave of my hand in front of a door handle. It has single press electric windows for both front seats, up and down. There’s a push button opener and closer for the hatch back. There’s USB-C built in at the dashboard. (There’s even a magnetic charging pad, but I doubt I’ll use it.) And did I mention Apple CarPlay? I had a taste of that in rental cars; to have it in my own car is great! There’s also an AC power outlet in the cargo area — for a cooler, I was told, so I bought one. And the rear seat split and fold down nearly flat.

• Handling. All I can say is wow. This is an SUV, right? Or whatever the hell a crossover is? But it has nice, tight steering and very aggressive acceleration. Not much body roll. Nothing like I expected it to be. It’s not as fun as driving my Honda S2000 — that car is, after all, my Joy Machine — but it’s a hell of a lot better than driving my truck.
• Practicality. It definitely has that covered with the ability to comfortably seat 4 or 5 people and plenty of space in the cargo area. Fold down the seats for just two on board and you’ve got a lot more cargo room. There’s also a roof rack. I’ve already bought a tent that can attach to the back of the car to turn it into a comfortable car camping setup. And it can tow up to 3500 pounds, which is probably more than my Jeep can tow.

There are a few nitpicky cons:

• 
  The color choices available for RAV4 cars as I write this. The website shows a red one but that’s not an option. Go Figure. Mine is Storm Cloud.

  The color. Although I like the color, I wish it wasn’t so dark. It gets nearly as hot in the sun as a black car would be and probably shows exactly the same amount of dust after several drives up and down by road. But other than white, all of the RAV4 Plugin Hybrid colors are dark.

• Excessive “safety” features. Let me start by saying this: I have been driving since I was 16 years old. We’re talking nearly 50 years here. I have a very good record of safety. I know how to drive and I know how to do it without causing accidents. In fact, I’m also a pretty good defensive driver. This car includes all the safety features car designers could possibly have come up with. Cruise control slows down if it thinks I’m getting too close to the car in front of me. The wheel shakes or actually steers the car (!) if I get too close to a lane dividing line. And the one I turned off before reaching my first destination: it monitors the driver’s eyes and beeps with a warning message on the instrument panel if the driver’s eyes aren’t on the road. Yes, these features can, for the most part, be disabled. I can see the attraction of them for people who like machines to think and act for them. I’m not one of those people. Rely on a system and you’re kind of screwed when that system is not available. No thanks.

• 
  The seatbelt extender I use to defeat the seatbelt warning chime when I need to.

  Annoying seatbelt chime. For the record, I wear my seatbelt when driving the car on a road. I don’t wear it in my driveway, in parking lots (especially when backing up), or on slow speed rough roads. I don’t need an annoying chime to tell me to put it on. I am an adult. I turned off this chime on my Ford truck and my other two vehicles are too old to have the chime — they just have lights. The local dealer refused to disable it for me. So I went out and bought a seatbelt extender like the kind my Dad had in his Mustang. Leave that buckled in and buckle the seatbelt into it when you’re ready to buckle up. (Highly recommended.)

• Overall appearance. Let’s face it: it looks like half the freaking cars on the road. I’ve already tried to get into the wrong car twice. I’m not used to having such an ordinary looking vehicle. It’s attractive enough, but … yawn. Good thing I plan on keeping the Honda forever, too.

The drawback of having a dark colored car on a gravel road is that no matter where you wash it, it always has dust on it after a drive. Here it is after the first time I hosed the dust off. Damn hard water left spots.

Overall Conclusions

Despite my nitpicking, I love the car. I can’t imagine anything else meeting my needs so well for the same price.

And I’m very glad I didn’t wait to buy it.

For a single person living alone with no kids, I have a lot of cars. I occasionally refer to them as my fleet.

• I have my 1999 Jeep Wrangler, which I bought brand new, beat the crap out of, and use as my local around-town vehicle. It’s in decent shape but wouldn’t win any awards at a car show, despite it’s age. A trailer hitch on the front makes it the perfect vehicle for shuffling around trailers in the garage or driveway.


My Jeep in its younger days, crawling over rocks in Sedona AZ. It’s on its third soft top now.

• I have my 2003 Honda S2000, which I bought brand new and took good care of. It’s my Joy Machine and makes me happy every time I drive it. It’s fast with tight steering and good brakes. The convertible top makes it almost as good as a motorcycle for feeling the air around me — but no helmet required! It’s impractical as a vehicle, but has decent fuel efficiency and is oh so fun. I use if on road trips when I don’t need to carry a lot of luggage, as well as on day trips up into the mountains.


I can’t imagine any car being more fun to drive than my Honda S2000.

• I have my 2012 Ford F35 SuperDuty Diesel Crew Cab with an 8-foot bed, which I bought in 2015. It’s my workhorse and I use it to haul just about anything that needs hauling: building or garden supplies, my slide-in truck camper, and my (oversize load) boat. I also used it on my trips to and from the marina in Bellingham where my boat lives, mostly because it can haul all the stuff I need to drag along with me when I go out on my boat.


My boat weighs 13,000 pounds on its trailer. Good thing my truck can tow 16,000 pounds.

Each vehicle is different. Each has its pros and cons. If I had to get rid of one of them, I’d have a hard time choosing because they each do different things for me.

They’re also each paid for in full and have their own space in my larger-than-average — okay, humungous — garage. Cheap to keep, easy to take care of. Always ready when I need them.

I Want a New Car

But I’ve been wanting a new car for a while. Remember, the last new-to-me vehicle I bought was my truck, 11 years ago. Before that, it was my Honda, 22 years ago. Sheesh.

It would be nice to buy something more fuel efficient, possibly to take advantage of the cheap power where I live. Electric would be nice, but not on a road trip. Hybrid would be nice for a road trip, but it wouldn’t really take advantage of the cheap power at home. The answer was, of course, a plug-in hybrid. Something I can keep plugged in when not in use and then use for virtually free local driving and more fuel efficient road trips.

And wouldn’t it be nice to have a vehicle with all the new bells and whistles I’d experienced in new rentals cars over the years? All those cameras and Apple Car Play?

I certainly did not need a fourth car. And I couldn’t get rid of any of the ones I have because they each do their own special things for me. So I figured I’d wait until I started downsizing. The truck wouldn’t be needed when I sold the boat; I’d sell the slide-in truck camper with it. The Jeep wouldn’t be needed when I got rid of my utility trailer and the boat trailer. When I sold those, I’d buy a nice plug-in hybrid SUV or “crossover” vehicle to replace them. Then I’d be down to just two cars, like a more normal person.

That was the plan, anyway.

In early June, as I steered my truck through the mountains on the long drive back from Bellingham, I started questioning this plan. I wasn’t getting any younger. Why should I wait? It’s not as if I’d get a big windfall from the sale of a 27+ year old Jeep and a truck with nearly 200,000 miles on it. I was turning 65 at the end of the month. Didn’t I deserve a big birthday present for such a big birthday? And why shouldn’t I have a new car while I was young enough to enjoy it?

And wasn’t my boat named Do It Now for a reason?

So just like that, I decided to buy myself a new car for my birthday.

Choosing the Car

I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t do much research. Most of the folks I spoke to raved about the Toyota RAV4, which was now available as a plugin hybrid. Toyota is the maker of one of the first hybrid cars out there: the Prius, which they first sold in December 1997. They still made and sold that car and I suspected that they’d learned a lot in the nearly 20 years since its first release. Everything I read and saw online in car guy videos confirmed this.

So I went to look at one, all ready to buy. The local Toyota dealer only had one on the lot and it was sold. But I got to see it and sit inside. It met my needs as an eventual replacement for the truck and Jeep as far as practicality was concerned. It even had limited towing capabilities. I could keep the Honda for fun and use this as my every day car.

The local dealer didn’t seem to understand that I was ready to buy the car. He kept saying I should think it over and get back to him. Instead, I asked when more were coming in. I told him I was ready to buy. It’s a shame (for him) that he didn’t have one to sell me. This was early on in my limited research and I didn’t know much about the various “trims” they sold. I probably would have bought the first one he offered me. But there was a list and he put me on it. The car was in high demand. It might be a few weeks.

In the meantime, I did a bit more homework and decided that I wanted the Woodland trim. This was a middle-range trim with some good rough road features. There was even a video on YouTube of a guy taking one “off road.” I told him I’d take any color except white, black, or green. (That left a shade of blue and a shade of dark gray.)

Waiting for the Car

And then I waited. For more than a week, nothing. I called to see if anything was coming in and he said there was but they were already spoken for. I reminded him I was ready to buy.

I sold 100 shares of Apple stock for a generous downpayment and put the money in my savings account.

After that, every once in a while he’d text me about cars coming in that did not match my criteria. The first was a low-end SE model. Another was a white Woodland. And then there was the XSE model that he said was very rare and he’d have to charge a $5k premium for it. I didn’t want it and now he was pissing me off.

So I started working the phones. I talked to Toyota dealers in Washington, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, Idaho, and Oregon. A few said they only sold locally, which honestly made no sense to me. Wouldn’t they rather sell the car to someone out of the area so they wouldn’t have to deal with warranty service and repairs? Some made promises and started sending me info about what was coming in. One guy even called on his private cell phone because he claimed they were required to sell locally but he was willing to make an exception for me.

WTF?

Eventually, I struck a deal with Troy in Boise. He managed to find the car in inventory being prepped for shipping to the US. Did I want it? Blue Toyota RAV4 Plugin Hybrid with moon roof. Yes. Sign this contract and send a $2K deposit. I did.

That was in late June. The car would be ready sometime between July 5 and August 11.

Life went on. My friend Janet came to stay with me for about two weeks at the end of June and into July. We camped with the truck and camper in the North Cascades and then took the boat out around the San Juan Islands and into Canada for 10 days. The local Toyota dealer kept texting me about cars that didn’t match my criteria.

Then I got a date from Troy. The car would be ready on July 13.

The timing couldn’t be better. I would be back from my boat trip and had a full two weeks before my next boat trip. (Long story there.) Plenty of time to get out to Boise and have a nice, leisurely road trip back. We set the pickup date for July 14, exactly two weeks after my 65th birthday.

Picking Up the Car

One of the things few people know about me is that I am a logistics whiz. I quickly determined that the quickest and easiest way for me to get from the Wenatchee area to Boise ID was to rent a car. I got a one-way car rental out of Wenatchee with Enterprise, left my pups with a neighbor, and headed out early in the morning of July 12. By 5 PM local time, I was checking into a nice hotel about a mile from the car dealer.

The next morning, I dropped off my luggage at the dealer, returned the rental car, and made the short walk back to the dealer. By then, my car was out in front of the building.

Troy took this photo of me with my new car before I’d even sat inside it. The funny thing is that I wore that shirt to match the car, thinking the color was the light blue in the shirt. It turned out to match the dark blue in the shirt. The other color was weird, but I was mentally prepped for it. This color is a lot more normal and although I like it, I’m not sure if normal is a good thing for me.

Then there was the paperwork. There was a lot of it. Payment was made more complicated because Toyota Financing’s systems were down and, for some reason, my transfer of $30K from my savings to checking account was delayed. Finally, things were settled. I did buy the 10 year extended warranty — remember, this is probably the last car I’ll ever buy. They got me a good loan rate because my credit score is “exceptional.” By 1 PM, I had all my stuff loaded into the car, shook hands with Troy, and drove out of the lot.

Since Then

That was just over a month ago. I did a 3-day road trip through central Idaho and into the Hells Canyon area before coming home. The car drove great. It was comfortable and had a lot of features. In many ways, it’s a computer with a car attached. I learned a lot about it on that long drive and have learned a lot since.

I stopped at a riverside parking area to eat the lunch I bought at a supermarket after leaving the dealer. From here, I drove up to McCall ID, a place I last visited in 2005 in my Honda.

But this blog post is already long enough. I’ll have to write another one with my observations.

I’ll just say one thing for now: I’m glad I didn’t wait.

When I sat down to write this post this morning, I thought I was starting a new series. But then I looked at my list of about 3,100 blog posts here and realized I already had a series it could fit into: Writing Tips. So with a little bit of editing, I wrangled what I’d written today to fit that series. I do, however, want to start with a new introduction.

About Me and This Series

I’ve been a writer since I was 13. I was always driven to write, to tell stories. I wrote them in spiral bound notebooks with the Bic fine point pen I preferred. I filled notebooks with my writing and I still have many of them. This was before the days of computers and word-processing, mind you. The two choices available for writers was longhand or typing. (It wasn’t until much later that I’d get my first typewriter.)

I’ve been a published — yes, by a real publisher — author since 1987 when I was about 26. (You can do the math; it won’t bother me.) That was an article for a professional newsletter. No money, but my first published clip. (There’s a chance I still have it around somewhere; I should hunt it down.) My first paid writing gig came in 1991 as a ghost writer on a John Dvorak book. I wrote 4 chapters and was paid $500 per chapter. My writing career took off from there — I’m sure I’ve covered its trajectory somewhere.

(Hmm. I just did a quick search of blog posts and can’t find one with the full story. I guess I’ll have to write it. In the meantime, here’s a list of all of the books I’ve written and all of the non-blog articles I’ve written.)

The point is that I’m a real writer. I’m driven to write, I have written books and articles that have been published, and I have even made a good living as a writer. Although I’m mostly retired now, I still write; my most recent article for Passagemaker Magazine was published this past week.

I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know who this series is by and for. You know about me; how about you? This series is for people who want to write. It’s not for people who are being forced to write by a boss or job requirements or even a teacher. It’s not going to cover things like grammar and spelling and style. It assumes you already know enough about all that to actually write.

This series is for the folks who, for some reason, want to write but are having trouble doing it. If that’s you, read on.

The Simplest Writing Tool and System

I’ve been thinking a lot about writing lately, looking at ways to get more motivated about doing it and seeing all kinds of weird (to me) posts on my social media platform of choice (Mastodon) from people writing or struggling to write. Two of them just came up in my feed today. I’m including screen grabs of them here for reference and have purposely omitted anything that identifies the poster. (I don’t want to embarrass anyone. If this is your post and you want to be identified as its author, let me know and I’ll modify it for you here.) These posts motivated me to sit down and answer the questions they posed, which I also answered online in replies to them.

In both examples, the author is talking about writing tools or systems to help them write. One mentions bullet journaling, the other lists software platforms. Neither seems ready to acknowledge the simplest tool/system available to them. I’ll give you a hint: it’s the same tool I used when I was 13 years old.

A pen and a notebook.

The Writing Tool/System Trap

Let me start by saying that I was also caught up in the writing tool/system trap that these folks are in. In today’s world, there is always an established and promoted solution for a problem. If someone can cash in on potentially solving a common problem, they will.

That’s what I think of bullet journaling, anyway. It seems that the guy who “invented” it is writing books and creating videos and selling notebooks with dots (instead of lines or grids). You can’t look up “bullet journal” without seeing him pushing his products.

As for software tools, it seems like a race to give writers the perfect app or platform to get their thoughts out there. Even Apple got into the game with its disappointing Journal app. (Why disappointing? Am I the only one who doesn’t want to lock my writing into a cloud-based app?) I even went so far as to spend good money on the app that every writer seems to use and rave about. And then not use it for writing. (I did find another use for it.)

Julia Cameron and The Artist’s Way

A few months ago, still searching for something to help motivate me to sit down and write, I began reading The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. This book has been around for 30+ years and still sells well. Every professional writer I know — including me — would love to have written and published a book like this.

Not only did I begin reading it, but I also listened to the audiobook version at the same time — a process some people refer to as “immersive reading” — and took notes. I wanted to squeeze everything I could out of this volume.

I didn’t last long. You see, Julia’s philosophy leans heavy on “spirituality,” her poorly disguised religious beliefs. In her world, a person’s success as an artist (including writers) relies on support from a Great Creator. Although she denies throughout the book that she’s talking about God, you’d have to be an idiot to believe her.

I’m a firm believer that we are each ultimately responsible for our own successes and failures so her Great Creator did not sit well with me. I stopped reading after the Week 2 chapter where her list of 10 “Rules of the Road” included three affirmations that rubbed me the wrong way:

In order to be an artist, I must:

…
6. Be alert, always, for the presence of the Great Creator leading and helping my artist.
…
8. Remember that the Great Creator loves creativity.
…
10. Place this sign in my workplace: Great Creator, I will take care of the quantity. You take care of the quality.

I found #10 especially offensive. (Here’s a newsflash for anyone waiting for a Great Creator to edit their writing: He’s already busy not stopping wars, famine, and injustice. What makes you think your writing is more important to Him than all of those other things that He apparently ignores anyway?) And since it became clear to me by then that a certain amount of religious belief (which I lack) would be necessary to get the most out of the book, I decided not to waste any more time with it.

Anyway, religion aside — I’m certainly not willing to discuss it here so keep your comments about it to yourself, please — I did come away from the book with one thing of great value: Morning Pages.

Morning Pages

The Artist’s Way program requires writers to write Morning Pages every day.

Morning Pages are three full pages, handwritten, about anything you want to write. It could be what you’re thinking or doing or seeing. It could be stream of consciousness. It could be notes for a book you want to write or are already working on. Anything. Words on paper, handwritten.

Since this requirement is stated early on at the beginning of the book (before I decided the book wasn’t for me), I started writing Morning Pages every morning. I had a spiral bound, college ruled notebook — the 8-1/2 x 11 inch kind, not the smaller ones they make to save money on paper. I was already using it for occasional notes, including (ironically) the notes I was taking while reading The Artist’s Way.

I did my Morning Pages every morning during my coffee in bed time with my pups. I’m an early riser, often up before 5 AM. I get up, make coffee, and bring it back to bed. I had been using that time to do some puzzles, catch up on Mastodon, and write a quick journal entry in a blank book I had for that purpose. But instead, I started doing Morning Pages and following that up with the journal entry.

It was easy. I can’t begin to tell you just how easy it was. If I can keep myself distraction-free, I can knock it out in 30 to 45 minutes. That might sound like a long time, but we’re talking about three densely packed pages of writing, roughly 1,000 words. With distractions, the time stretched. But in the 71 days I’ve been doing it — I number the entries — I only missed two days and did a short entry one day — all due to scheduling-related time constraints.

One of the reasons I think it’s so easy is because it doesn’t matter what you write. I usually write about the previous day and what I got done. I write about things I thought about, people I communicated with, and things I want or need to do. I write about the weather and the air quality — it’s smoke season here, after all. I write about my health. I write about ideas for blog posts and articles. I scold myself for not doing things I should be doing.

Seriously: I write about anything that comes to mind. It’s rapid-fire stuff with no formatting or editing. Heck, I don’t even create paragraphs. In one sentence I might wish for rain and in the next I might start writing about a new decorative paper process I’d like to try in my studio.

What is this doing for me? Well, it’s a brain dump, to be sure. Isn’t that what both of the Mastodon post examples I shared above seem to be looking for? It helps me organize my thoughts and create threads that often lead to new thoughts or solutions or even action plans. (I’ve actually begun writing my Morning Pages with my To Do list for the day nearby so I can add items to it.) It has also replaced my journal, which I had been keeping quite faithfully for nearly 2 1/2 years. I was a bit sad to see it go, but I realized that there was a lot of repetition. The additional space I have in that spiral notebook makes it possible to go into detail I could not fit in the old journal page format.

And it’s easy enough to make into a habit. Isn’t that specifically what one of those Mastodon posters wanted to do? Set a time of day to do it, make sure you’ve blocked out enough time, and just get it done.

It also reminded me of how I wrote way back when I was 13. Those notebooks! Those pages of neat printed writing in ink! I was able to be creative back then, to write longhand without editing.

Oh, how I rejoiced years later when word processors made typewriters obsolete! But did they really help me? Or hinder me? Morning Pages makes me wonder.

How Writing Tools/Systems Stifle Us

I mentioned earlier that I was once stuck in the mindset that I needed to use a special tool or system to be productive as a writer. Like the folks I quoted above seem to be. And I tried (and set aside) many software-based tools over the years.

Why? Well I found that once I had decided to use a specific tool to do all my writing, I could not write unless that tool was handy.

For example, when I write on a computer, I want to use a keyboard. A regular keyboard that I can touch-type on. I’m a pretty quick typist when I have the right keyboard, a normal sized one that fits my fingers. I can type nearly as quickly as I can compose in my brain. But needing a keyboard means I have to have a desktop or laptop computer with me to write. I cannot write on a phone or tablet. Unfortunately, it’s not possible to have a laptop or desktop with me all the time. So without that tool, I don’t write.

That’s the most basic problem. The problem is worse when you have a cloud-based tool such as the sites listed in the second Mastodon post I shared above. They require you to be connected to the Internet to use them. Another hurdle. While many folks can’t imagine not being connected to the Internet, I can assure everyone that there are times and places where it simply is not possible to connect. What do you do then?

Using a specific writing app locks you up the same way. When you don’t have access to the app, do you find other ways to write? Or do you not write at all?

That pen and notebook are looking better all the time, no? Pretty easy to slip into a purse, messenger bag, backpack, or tote bag, no? (It doesn’t have to be letter-sized, you know. Try a steno pad.) Easy to pull out when you’re waiting for a friend to meet you for lunch or while killing time at the local DMV or even when heading out to the park for an hour of people watching or mindfulness exercises. I’ve begun taking a tote bag with me when I leave home to do my errands. Guess what’s in the bag? That same Morning Pages notebook; I can write anything in it.

If it’s always there with you, ready to receive what you want to give it, there’s no excuse not to use it to write.

Just Write

Even if you don’t like the idea of Morning Pages, there’s something you can take from them: the idea of writing longhand to get what you want to remember out of your brain and onto paper.

Isn’t that the goal of writing? To write?

Don’t worry about having your writing in a format that isn’t “usable.” You can make it usable later. Consider what you write a draft. Then, when you need to create a final work based on it, you can edit it as you type it into your word processor (or blogging platform or whatever) of choice to create your second draft.

Oh, and I need to clarify one more thing. If you’re already diligently working in a writing tool — like maybe a word processor? — to write a book, story, or article, the advice here might not apply to you for that project. If you’ve already established a writing routine that works for you to create specific pieces, keep using it! The advice I’m offering here is mostly for brain dumps, journaling, and getting the random thoughts floating around your head out on paper where you can consult them later.

Is Writing Important to You?

If it is, stop making excuses that revolve around finding the perfect tool or system. Buy yourself a note book and a good writing instrument and just sit down and write.

But wait! There’s more!

This is not the only thing I’ve written about writing. I’ve been writing about writing since the very beginning of this blog. If you want to do a deep dive, I recommend checking out posts in The Writing Life category or posts tagged writing. Remember, all posts are listed in reverse chronological order with the most recent ones first.

Shame on me. After blogging regularly here since 2003, I stepped away for more than 3 months. I can feel the air of neglect here.

Understand that my blog has always been a place where I share my thoughts, opinions, and ideas, as well as providing an account of what I’m up to. It’s not as if I have nothing to write about. I do. I’ve been keeping crazy busy this summer, with plenty to blog about: boat trips, new client jobs, writing for hire, exploring artistic endeavors in my studio, and even an unexpected road trip. I’ve been keeping very busy. But what I haven’t been doing is making time to blog about any of it. And that’s a failure on my part.

But I’m back and hope to post new article at least once a week. There are three swishing around in my head right now and I’ll likely get started on the first one this morning.

There is one thing in particular that I’d like to mention here — and will mention in all of my upcoming blog posts. That’s the simple fact that I wrote every single word that appears on this site (with the obvious exception of attributed quotes). I did not use AI in any way, shape, or form. This site is entirely human-created and it always will be.

If you’re sick of reading AI slop — I know that I am! — I urge you to support the human writers who maintain blogs like this by visiting frequently, sharing links to posts, adding your comments at the end of posts you have something to say about, and, when deserved, sending a small contribution via a tip jar, “buy me a coffee,” or paid subscription. This is currently an ad-free, subscription-free blog and I’d like to keep it that way. But your participation is what motivates me to keep writing.

I’ve had a pretty busy few months this year.

February

After a nice two week stay at the Holtville Hot Springs in my camper, with visits to the tubs at least once a day, I started the long drive home. It had been a very mild winter in central Washington State and there wasn’t any snow on the ground. In fact, my housesitter reported that things were already starting to green up. In mid February.

So I headed home, with an overnight stop at Death Valley — where the superbloom would not peak for at least two weeks — and some town on the Idaho/Oregon border that I can barely remember. I was traveling heavy, towing my utility trailer behind the truck with the camper on it. I was 56 miles from home when a tire on that trailer blew out, delaying my return by about 90 minutes while I waited for Good Sam to change the tire. (Yes, I know how to change a tire, but I’m not going to do it myself if I’ve already paid for roadside assistance that would do it for me.)

The superbloom was just starting in Death Valley when I drove through.

Of course, we had a heavy snowfall just a few days after my return. I managed to get everything in my big garage beside the boat, which was hogging up a lot of space. The snow mostly melted and the relatively warm weather returned. I got some stuff done, but not enough. I had been road weary — as I normally get at the end of my winter travels — and just wanted to bask in the comfort of my home.

But that wasn’t going to happen. I got a sort of emergency call from a woman who needed to move her Mainship 32 from Fort Myers to Cocoa, FL. Her husband was recovering from an illness and the boat needed to be moved. She didn’t feel comfortable doing it with a male captain and I was the first female captain who returned her call. I was on a plane to Fort Myers the next day. The job took a week; during that time I lived with a stranger on a relatively small boat. (Okay, so it’s bigger than mine, but mine is relatively small, too.) I’ve been living alone for about 13 years now and it is totally exhausting for me to spend just about every waking moment of my day with someone else. So after a week of that, I was glad to get back home.

I’ve never seen as many alligators as I saw along the edge of Lake Okeechobee in February.

March

I did some work on the boat — mostly cleaning the anchor locker and re-marking the rode before putting it all away. I’d planned to apply PropSpeed to the prop but soon realized that it was beyond my capabilities. A weather window opened and I towed it back across the mountains. The boatyard lifted it off the trailer and blocked it. While I worked on some basic cleaning tasks, they put me in the queue for PropSpeed, a trailer rash hull repair, and a bottom paint job. And hull detailing, which I honestly think was too expensive for the quality of work provided.

I spent a lot of the time — no, too much of the time — trying to document my stay on the hard in videos for my YouTube channel. I’m telling you, recording and editing video isn’t difficult, but it is a chore. It’s no wonder YouTube is being overrun with AI Slop; it just isn’t worth it to put in the time and effort to create original content.

In all, I was there for 11 days.

The boat was finally launched and after dumping the waste tank and topping off the fuel, I put it back in its slip at the marina. I went home for a few days to take care of things there — mostly in the yard and garden — and get a case of trigger thumb treated by a hand specialist in town.

April

I met with the local Medicare expert, Suzie, and learned, to my delight, that medicare would start a full month earlier than I expected for me. Being able to skip my June health insurance payment was like getting $950 put into my pocket. Best of all, it looks like my out-of-pocket medicare expenses will be under $300. That was some good news.

Then it was back to the boat — did I mention it’s a four-hour drive? — for three more days. I had to pick up the plastic panels a local canvas guy had made to order for my boat’s cockpit screened in room. I installed all that canvas and plastic and when the rain started, I was very happy to have it. It really expands my all-weather living space. Of course, all that canvas and plastic will need to come back off the boat when I turn it over to the charter company for the season; I suspect it would be ruined by charter guests pulling it off and rolling it up carelessly.

I got a chance to go sailing on a 42-foot boat in the rain in 18 mph wind. I would have been a nervous wreck if it weren’t for the fact that my three companions were seasoned sailing instructors. I did get a nasty chill, though, and worried that it would have me sick three days later. (It didn’t. Maybe those vitamins I take now do help?) There was an owner and instructor party and I was prepared to go with an early departure, but they had to-go boxes so I made my dinner and headed out very early. I was home by 7 PM.

The next day, I was on a flight to Seattle to catch a redeye to Orlando. I got about two hours of sleep on the flight — seriously, what was I thinking picking a redeye? — and was picked up at 6:30 AM by my client, the same woman I’d helped take her Mainship 32 from Fort Myers to Cocoa in February. This time, I’d be with her 10 days and we’d take the boat all the way to Savannah, GA. We had amazing weather and because she pushed us hard to get to Savannah early, I wound up with a day to wander around Savannah, which I hadn’t done since passing through there on the Great Loop for the third time in Spring 2024.

Then it was back home, where the biggest chore was mowing my tiny lawn (three times) and making sure the irrigation worked properly. Then back to the boat, this time with the dinghy loaded into the back of my truck. I’d had to repair a panel on the transom, which is why I hadn’t brought it with the boat in March.

I had a hectic day of chores to get the boat prepped for a training client. I wound up spending another four days with him, cruising the San Juans so he could learn how to drive, navigate, dock, anchor, and moor. We managed to get a hike in on Sucia Island and I let him explore on his own at Roche Harbor. By that time, I was completely exhausted. Although he was a great guy and I enjoyed his company, I admit to being glad when he got off the boat in Bellingham and I was alone again. (I did mention how much I enjoy being alone, didn’t I?)

We anchored in Echo Bay at Sucia. Do you know how many times I anchored there in less than perfect weather before I realized you could see Mount Baker from there on a clear day? We had great weather for our whole trip.

The Joy of Rest, Relaxation, and Solitude

And that brings us to yesterday which was a Wednesday. After a quick sea trial with my mechanic to show her a steering issue that we hope is caused by air in the hydraulic steering lines, a stop at Trader Joe’s for groceries, and another quick stop at Walmart to pick up some bottled spring water, I found myself with nothing that I had to do. I couldn’t go home because I had to attend the Bellingham Yacht Club season opening event on Saturday, with lots of food and a swap meet where I hoped to sell off some extra equipment I didn’t need. While I could stay at the dock, why would I want to do that? Wasn’t 10 days on the hard in March dull enough? So I headed out with my pups.

I wound up in Inati Bay on Lummi Island. The anchorage was empty for the first time I’d ever come there. I think more folks were at the new Smuggler’s Cove mooring field farther up the coast of Lummi. Fine with me.

I spent the afternoon just relaxing. I napped, read, did puzzles, snacked. I watched a great blue heron fly around, squawking loudly as it was chased by two juvenile bald eagles. I took my dogs to shore. I made dinner and ate. I flew my drone to take photos of the boat at anchor.

Afternoon at Inati Bay.

This morning, I woke up before dawn (as usual) and watched the sky brighten. I saw first light touch the rocks on the shore nearby, illuminating a waterfall I hadn’t noticed the day before. I watched a sea otter swim around slowly, then disappear under the water. I heard a harried heron in the near distance. I saw gulls flying around as if looking for the perfect place to land before settling down on the glassy smooth water.

First light at Inati Bay. Can you see the little waterfall in this photo?

I enjoyed the silence and solitude.

I felt a surge of happiness I feel occasionally, but not often enough. I think it requires me to stop doing and just sit back and get in tune with my surroundings. It made me want to share this thought with you.

So I’m blogging about it.

Because yes, it’s difficult for me to truly relax.

But besides that, I really wanted to share this moment. The feeling of joy you can get when you go to a special place, put down your phone, shut the hell up, and pay attention to what’s around you.

Today and Tomorrow

The plan for today is to head over to Vendovi Island for a hike in the preserve there. (I hope I can bring my dogs.) Then, after lunch, I’ll head down to La Connor for the night. It’s a cute town I breezed through once; I’d like to really explore it this time.

Tomorrow, Friday, I’ll head back to Bellingham where I have things to do again.

But I admit that I’m looking forward to a lot more days on the water this summer, with no plans and the ability to really soak up the peace and quiet some of these anchorages offer.

I towed my boat from home to its summer home in Bellingham on Friday. It was a stressful, time-consuming non-event. The road over Stevens Pass was wet, but not icy. A landslide closed the northbound lanes of I-5 just south of my destination, so I had to take a detour with an oversized load in tow.

Fun times!

Anyway, shortly after arrival, they lifted my boat off its trailer and blocked it up in the boatyard. I need a bit of bottom work done so it’ll be on the hard here for about a week. I’ll be living aboard — yes, on blocks — for about 10 days.

As they were working, I used my phone to record the process on video. Here’s that video, edited for length — the process took about an hour — and narrated. I think it’ll give most folks a look at something they’ve never seen in real life.

Here’s the video and description on YouTube:

It’s boating season again in the Pacific Northwest! I’ve towed my boat from its winter home in my garage to its summer home in Bellingham, WA. In this video, I show the process of removing the boat from the trailer with a boat lift and blocking it up in the yard. The whole thing is narrated (and I can’t wait for viewers to comment on all my mistakes). If you’re like me, you’re fascinated by the use of highly specialized equipment and skilled workers to perform tasks that most people have no idea about. Enjoy the video!

Many thanks to the folks at Seaview North for letting me record them at work. I know my boat is in good hands.

And remember, my boat is in a charter program at San Juan Yachting in Bellingham. YOU can take it out for a week on your own or with me as your captain. Visit https://www.SanJuanYachting.com/ for details. Tell them Maria sent you!

—

My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.

Support my blogging and video efforts!
– DONATE: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
– BUY ME A COFFEE: https://bit.ly/BuyMariaACoffee
– SPONSOR a future video: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH

Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir

At the end of the boating season, instead of leaving my boat in the water (in a slip I pay for regardless of occupancy), I bring it home for safekeeping. After all, it is trailerable and I have a trailer and truck to move it. I also have a cavernous garage where the boat fits snugly with whatever other stuff I cram in there. This is infinitely better for the boat than leaving it in the water all winter for stuff to grow on the bottom and moisture to grow mold and mildew on canvases. Honestly, how could they expect me to leave my boat there when I have this option?

Having the boat at home before the season also gives me a chance to do some maintenance, especially on the bottom. This year, I’d planned to do some touch-up paint on the bottom, put PropSpeed on the prop, and wash and wax the red painted part of the hull. To that end, I got to work this weekend. And since I think the bottom of my boat is kind of interesting, I made a video of what it looks like before I scraped off the dead sea life.

Here’s that video, along with the description that appears on YouTube.

Description:

Boating season is quickly approaching and I’m prepping my boat to be launched before month end. Right now, the boat is on its trailer in my garage, staying cozy warm and waiting for attention. In this video, I show you what’s under the waterline on the stern of the boat and the kind of work I need to do before launching it. My cat, Rover, makes a special guest appearance.

Keep in mind that my boat is available for charter through San Juan Yachting in Bellingham WA. Take it out for a week in the beautiful San Juan Islands! Or, if you’d like me to take you around for a few days and teach you how to drive a single engine trawler like this, get in touch on my boating blog: https://mygreatloopadventure.com/contact-me/

My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.

Support my blogging and video efforts!
– DONATE: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
– BUY ME A COFFEE: https://bit.ly/BuyMariaACoffee
– SPONSOR a future video: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH

Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir

This winter, I spent some time with my friends Jan and Tiff in their Arizona home. I’ve known them since 2013 when I swapped my old golf cart for a towable helicopter landing platform. Back then, they owned a helicopter flight school in Mesa AZ. I got to be good friends with them and their partner, Woody. In those days, Jan and Woody were airline pilots for America West, which was eventually gobbled up and merged into US Air. Now they’re both retired and still living in Arizona. They sold the flight school a few years ago.

Enter Tovala

Anyway, neither Jan or Tiff cook so they basically eat out or order in all the time. I’ve become used to it when I visit with them and often pick up the tab (when I’m fast enough) when we eat out. But this time was a little different. I noticed that they had a fancy toaster oven on their countertop. Long story short: they’d signed up for a meal kit program and the oven had come with it.

The program is called Tovala and it’s absolutely perfect for anyone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t want to cook. You sign up and get the oven, which is a smart device (more on that in a moment). You commit to a certain number of meals per week — the minimum is 4 — and they come once a week in an insulated box full of little meal boxes, often with meat or fish in a vacuum-sealed pouch. Everything is fresh and the quality seems to be good. At mealtime, you open a little box, follow the instructions on the card to put meal components into aluminum foil trays, pop the trays in the oven, scan a QR code on the card, and push the oven’s start button. It’s automatically programmed to cook the meal for you, usually in oven mode. (The oven can also toast, broil, and air fry.) When it’s done, you plate it up, add provided sauces and/or toppings, and eat it.

Here’s an unboxed Tovala meal. Everything comes in the tan box. Take the plastic off the trays, put them in the oven, scan the code, and the oven cooks it. Some meals do require a bit of assembly before cooking, but it’s all so easy a 5 year old could do it.

It’s absolutely idiot-proof, making it possible for someone who can’t cook to get a hot meal at home without ordering out. This is perfect for Jan and Tiff, mostly because Tovala meals tend to be healthier than restaurant or takeout food. (More on that in a moment, too.)

Worth a Try

I’m the opposite of Jan and Tiff when it comes to meals. I know how to cook and I can do it pretty well when I want to. I actually like to cook — sometimes. But I also like to have a wide variety of food and don’t necessarily want to track down recipes, shop for ingredients, and then make a whole recipe for my one-person household. Yes, I do it once in a while and I normally eat leftovers the next day and then vacuum seal and freeze additional portions. But I also have a busy life and cooking can become a chore. So I eat a lot of what I’ve put in the freezer or make meals of almond butter or avocado on crackers, or ramen with veggies, or even store bought or frozen prepared foods. It’s just not good for me in so many ways.

I thought Tovala might give me the variety I crave without the effort of making it myself or the cost/bother of going out to eat. (Understand that I live 10 miles from town and no one delivers up here.) I did the math and the price wasn’t outrageous. 4 meals a week cost about $65, which is $16-$17 per meal. I’d spend at least that if I went out, and I’d still have at least 20 miles of driving to get into town and back.

And yes, I know I can eat a lot cheaper with groceries. I’m not an idiot. I can and often do prepare a good balanced meal based around a normal meat or fish protein for under $10. But I considered this a treat and, if I could, I’d just get two or three meals a week from Tovala.

Observations

I’ve had four weeks of deliveries so far.

The first week was pretty much a loss; the food arrived on Friday and by Saturday morning I was on my way to Florida for a boat captain gig for a week. I left the food for my housesitter who was not impressed.

The second and third weeks were pretty good. Everything cooked pretty well with just a scan and the touch of a button and the vegetable or pasta combinations were good. The beef dishes were very good, which surprised me. I quickly discovered that the chicken and fish cook better than the pork, which dries out. The side salads were a sad little joke, barely more than garnish with dressing.

But, in general, the portions were good and the food was definitely fresh. I could always eat more — but then again, if I like something enough, I could probably eat it until I exploded.

I liked the flavors, which is why I’d signed up. So in that sense, I was satisfied.

But Is it Really a Good Match for Me?

Unfortunately, I came back from Florida realizing that I needed more calorie-conscious meals. (Yes, while I was traveling this winter, I porked up, as usual, and needed to start dieting again to feel more fit.) And what I was facing from Tovala were extremely tasty but not very diet-friendly food.

You see, you need to order (or skip) your meals at least 10 days before you actually get them. For example, the meals I’ll get on Friday, March 27 have to be finalized by Wednesday, March 18. So because I’d ordered tasty comfort food before going on my trip, I faced two weeks of that instead of more calorie conscious choices.

And I’ll be frank: their idea of “calorie smart” is not the same as mine. I expect a lower calorie meal to come in at less than 500 calories, preferably less than 400. (And yes, it’s doable. I made grilled salmon with a salad the other day with a total calorie count of just 170.) I think they’d have to lean heavily on their puny salads to make that happen. I’m capable of grilling or baking a protein with a handful of power greens, some tomatoes, and a tablespoon of dressing, so I don’t need something like that delivered. (Maybe someone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t have time to cook or shop might feel differently. Think Jan and Tiff.)

Of course, once I started tracking calories, I started looking very closely at the nutritional information for the Tovala meals I was eating. Calories were important, but so was sodium and added sugars. And what I was learning was that some Tovala meals were definitely fine-tuned for flavor instead of nutrition. I know that adding a lot of salt and sugar is a restaurant/catering ploy to make their food taste better, but in my mind, a savory entree should have zero added sugar. And come on folks! Stop with the salt. It’s easy to add salt but impossible to remove it.

Going back to the 10 days advance notice, however, this has proved difficult for me, as my calendar is always in flux. Last month’s last minute captain gig is just one example: I got the call on Friday and was on a plane Saturday afternoon. One of the things I like most about my life is its spontaneity — I can decide at any time what I want to do and when I want to do it. Having to lock down whether I get meals 10 days before they arrive means that if I change my plans, I need to either take the meals with me (which is only possible when I have a way to store and cook them) or find someone else to take them for me. That just adds another thing to think about when I make or change plans.

AI Support

I had ordered an egg rolls add-on for one of my meals (before I knew I really wanted to watch my calories) and tried to remove it. I couldn’t figure out how. Neither the app nor the website made it possible to remove just an add-on item. (In hindsight, I suspect I could have removed that entire meal and maybe the add-on would have gone with it. Then I could have re-added the meal. That might have worked.)

I tried technical support chat in the app and my highly specific request was handled by an AI that provided me with links to options that did not apply. When I said I wanted to chat with a person, I was told to enter my email and message. I did. No person joined the chat, but I did get an email response — from an AI. This included instructions to remove the add-on that simply did not work. I tried chat again, told it I wanted a human, and waited. Within about 4 minutes, a human joined the chat. Based on the subsequent chat, I am 98% sure she was human. She resolved the problem by finding the item and removing it for me.

But the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. (No pun intended.) A problem that I struggled with over the course of more than 40 minutes with a ton of frustration could have been quickly resolved if a human had answered the chat in the first place.

I cannot tell you how much I hate dealing with AI systems for technical support or customer service. 90% of the time, these systems cannot resolve my problem. All they do is tell me that the company I’m dealing with cares so little about their customers that they won’t even hire a sufficient human support staff. Instead, my needs are handled by a fucking machine that can’t even get things right.

And if you try to tell me in comments that “this is the future,” let me respond right now: only if you let it. I won’t. Don’t we deserve better when we are paying for a product or service? I know I do. Stop following the rest the herd and say no to AI.

Not For Me

So after four weeks of Tovala meals — two of which are still in my refrigerator — I have decided that Tovala is not for me. Between my fluctuating schedule, my need for more calorie conscious meal choices (that do not rely on a salad I can make better myself), and my absolute hatred of AI-based support, I don’t think I can continue using Tovala on a regular basis. That might change when I get my weight down to where it needs to be or spend more time at home, but for now, no.

Don’t get me wrong. If you’re like Jan and Tiff, can’t be bothered cooking, and are tired of the bother and expense of eating out or ordering in, Tovala might be perfect for you. (If you want to try it, here’s a referral code that’ll get you a free oven.) The food is good and fresh and the meal choices are interesting. And it seriously can’t be any easier to prepare your food.

But I will be getting two more weeks of Tovala food. You see, when you sign up and get the oven for free or at a discount, you agree to buy 6 weeks of meals within 6 months. I have two weeks to go. They’ll likely be in late May because my schedule for April is filling up very quickly. I don’t mind — again, I like the food. And, to be honest, I probably won’t cancel the service entirely. But I’m not sure when I’ll feel comfortable ordering food 10 days in advance.

A lot of folks criticize me for (or are in awe of) the number of “irons I keep in the fire.” Simply said, I have a lot of interests and when something really strikes my fancy, I dive in headfirst and do what I need to do to become an “expert.”

That’s how teaching myself how to use computers in the early 1990s paid off with a career as a computer how-to book author, speaker, and educator, freeing me, once and for all (at age 29), from the 9 to 5 grind of corporate America.

That’s how learning to fly helicopters and eventually jumping through the hoops required to get a charter (AKA Part 135) certificate got me a third career as a helicopter pilot, which started climbing to its peak in 2012, right around the time people stopped buying computer how-to books.

That’s how accumulating cabochons at rock shows led to making jewelry which led to getting good silversmith training and setting up my own fully-equipped studio and making/selling sterling silver jewelry at art shows. When I sold the helicopter and my two helicopter businesses, I really thought silversmithing would be my fourth career (and first retirement career) and I suppose I can still count it as that.

But I never expected my boating activities to lead to paying gigs on both coasts, bringing in retirement income just as silver prices skyrocketed and the economy led to people not spending much money on things they didn’t need. After a dismal winter art show season in Seattle and the Phoenix area, I’ve pretty much set my silversmithing activities aside to better explore this fifth career as a boat captain.

Getting into Boating

What started as me musing, back in 2012, whether it was possible to take a boat on a trip from the Intracoastal Waterway near my mom’s old house in St. Augustine all the way up to the Erie Canal, somehow ending in the Mississippi River and looping back to my starting point in Florida, eventually culminated with me doing that trip, the Great Loop, mostly solo in my own boat. I started in Chicago in October 2022 and ended there in August 2024. (I was still working as a pilot in the summer so I couldn’t do the summer part in 2023.)

I’d been boating on and off most of my life. Back in the summer of 2011, I bought a little jet boat. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t fast, but I eventually took it on outings in the Columbia River, Colorado River, and Lake Pleasant (Arizona).

My little jetboat was extremely well travelled. In the winter of 2017/18, I took it south with me to Arizona and beyond. This picture was shot at Capitol Reef National Park in October, when I drove through on my way to a side trip in Colorado.

My life got turned upside down in 2012 and I spent the next few years rebuilding it the way I wanted, with a new home and new priorities. I’ll just say this: life is good when you don’t have anyone holding you back from enjoying it. (‘Nuff said, eh, Jim?)

By 2021, I was thinking about that boat trip again. I found a boat captain doing the trip in his 2017 Ranger Tug R-27 who was looking for two crew members. I signed up for a portion of the trip: 8 weeks from Jersey City to Chicago. It was a mostly great experience, although I did clash with the other crew member and wound up leaving the boat after 5 weeks. We traveled up the Hudson River (where I’d boated with my family as a child) through the Erie Canal, and along Lake Erie and Lake Huron. It was great experience.

After that trip, I was approached by another boat captain, this time in a 1985 Aft Cabin Carver 35, who was doing the trip at his own pace and needed at least one crew member for at least two weeks. I signed up for 5 weeks, returning home just in time for my summer work. This time we were on the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway between Charleston SC and New Bern NC. (John cruised at a much slower pace.) Again, it was great experience.

I was almost ready to buy my own boat, planning to do the Loop at my own pace starting in 2024. I had one more season of summer flying to do with my helicopter and then I planned to sell it. But weird stuff happens and I got an offer I couldn’t refuse for the helicopter in May 2022. I’m not an idiot; I sold it. I wound up leasing a helicopter — long and crazy story there — for my summer work.

But that big fat helicopter payment was eating at me, telling me to buy a boat that summer and start the trip sooner. After putting off looking for most of the summer, I finally succumbed and started a search. I found the right boat in August 2022, made an offer, had it accepted contingent on the survey, got it surveyed, and completed the sale just after Labor Day weekend.

What followed was a bit of training, a bunch of days cruising around Puget Sound, and a trip across the US to Chicago where the trucking company I’d hired launched it. My friend Janet joined me for the first 3 weeks on the Loop. My friend Alyse joined me for the second 3 weeks on the Loop. I did a bunch solo and also did about 60 days with my friend Jason and another 3 days with my friend Cheri. This was all over the course of 22 months, with time home to work when I had to.

Becoming a Captain

Along the way, I stopped in Oriental NC to attend a 7-day OUPV captain course. I got my Captain’s License from the USCG in October 2023. I put that license to work in May 2024 in the Baltimore area on two separate training gigs: 3 days for a brand new boater planning to do the Loop solo starting that summer (!!) in his 2015 Ranger Tug R-29 and 1 day with a couple who had stepped up from a pontoon boat to a really nice (and relatively new) Ranger Tug R-29.

If I had to identify one thing that has helped me stay financially secure doing interesting work throughout my life while retaining a healthy work/life balance, it’s my ability to recognize and take advantage of opportunities that come up as they come up. While many people — including too many I know — will make excuses to support why they can’t do something, I look at what I need to do to make things happen.

So while I was on a flotilla with five other boats (all larger than mine) going to Desolation Sound, and one of the owners of the charter company asked if I’d ever considered training people how to drive boats, I not only said yes but told him I had some experience doing it. (He had been impressed that I docked the boat solo at every stop; basically having the boat tied up before his wife hurried over to help.) And then I took the certification classes required to qualify as an instructor for their company. The following spring, I was teaching for them.

I have to admit that the highly structured classes they were teaching to give students American Boating certification was not what I enjoy doing. It was nice to make money while boating with strangers, some of whom were really great people, but I’m not a fan of teaching to the test, especially when the test covers information not in the course material or really not necessary to know. (I’d offer an example here, but I literally tossed out those old tests two days ago when cleaning out my instructor binder.)

I’d prefer to teach just one or two (a couple) people at a time, focusing on what they need to know to be safe boaters and get started building skills. And that’s what I got to do twice on my own boat last summer. I took a future Ranger Tug owner and his friend on an overnight trip in the San Juan Islands where they could see whether the boat would meet their needs; they stayed in an AirBnB on Orcas Island near Deer Harbor. And I took another future Ranger Tug owner who plans to do the Loop on a four day trip in the San Juan Islands, focusing on soloing skills — which is something the training organizations don’t want me to teach for them. I was tickled pink when he picked up a mooring ball by himself on the first try!

Later that summer, in August, I accompanied a new boater and his friend on his 2024 Antares 11, a twin outboard boat he planned to do the loop in. They had to move the boat from the Florida Panhandle to Jacksonville. We had two weeks to do it and needed almost every day because of engine issues along the way. It was brutally hot and humid in Florida, but the boat had air conditioning in the staterooms so sleeping was tolerable. It wasn’t my favorite Captain gig, but it’s always nice to get out on the water, especially when someone else is picking up the tab.

This Year Is Shaping Up

Fast forward to this year. Things are shaping up nicely. It’s just March and I’ve already done one gig, have two more under contract, and a third penciled in on my calendar. These are all gigs in a client’s boat or in my boat.

In two cases (for the same female client), I got the gig partly because I’m a woman. So that’s a welcome twist.

In the other two cases, the client wants to experience cruising in a Ranger Tug. So although my boat is in a charter program with San Juan Yachting out of Bellingham and used by others when I’m not on board, I have enough time for myself reserved so I can offer a few training cruises in it. I love teaching people how to drive Ranger Tugs, especially in my own boat. I know it so well and am still excited about it, even after 3 1/2 years of ownership. I want to make them excited, too.

And I’m also doing day trips and shorter overnight trips for clients. You can check my boat’s availability calendar here. And, of course, you can charter it for yourself if you meet the charter guest requirements at San Juan Yachting. Or you can charter it and request me as your on-board captain for custom training as you cruise.

The point is, I’m able to do work I love — boating and teaching people how to boat safely — and be paid for it. And I have to admit that the work pays a lot better for the amount of effort than my silversmithing “career,” even though it’s not as creative and personally rewarding. I guess the bottom line is this: doing work as a boat captain pays the bills; doing work as a silversmith/artist pays to do work as a silversmith/artist.

Winter 2026/27?

At this point, I’m leaning hard toward towing my boat back to the Great Loop in mid October or November, probably launching it in the St. Louis area. When I did the Loop, I sped through the southern half of the Inland Waterways in December and the trip was not as good as I think it should have been. I want to do it again and then cruise on to the west coast of Florida, perhaps with another stop in the Keys.

Heck, I towed it home from Chicago in August 2024. Why not tow it back to St. Louis in October 2026?

The boat would be available for passengers interested in learning more about the Great Loop or Ranger Tugs. Due to the size of the boat and stateroom limitations, I prefer to take solo cruisers, but I could probably make room for a couple. We’ll see.

What I do beyond that really depends on what plans I can make for Summer 2027. Right now, it’s too early to share my thoughts about that.

It’s All about Skills

I just want to end this post with a quick discussion of skills.

I have built multiple careers — some of them very successful — by learning skills and making those skills available to people willing to pay for them.

• I wrote about computer books for more than 20 years, earning quite a bit of money with my ability to write and to explain how to perform tasks on a computer.
• I took passengers for hire and did contract work in a helicopter, eventually earning a good living with my ability to fly the way a client needed me to fly.
• I’ve earned money with my silversmithing skills, although I haven’t had to depend on the income from that endeavor (see the previous two points).
• I’m earning money with my boating skills, teaching people how to safely maneuver their boat.

I have numerous other skills that serve me well:

• Computer skills for building websites, creating marketing materials, and making videos.
• Marketing skills for selling myself and my services.
• Accounting skills for taking care of my own finances.
• People skills that recognize the client is always right (even if he’s wrong), among other things.

I don’t learn skills because I plan to turn them into a career. I learn them because they interest me. But being able to monetize them makes it possible for me earn a living doing the things that interest me. In addition to the ones I’ve covered here, I’m also doing things with bookbinding, leather work, carpentry, photography, sewing, and more. I’m interested in a lot of things so I do a lot of things.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: building skills can never be a waste of time. You never know when that skill you’ve been honing because you really enjoy the work might be the skill that turns into a lifeboat if your life goes sideways one day.

As regular readers know, I go south every winter. I love my home but I don’t like winters here. It isn’t the cold as much as it’s the dreariness. So I go south, usually to Arizona and the desert southwest, although I did spend two winters on my boat on the Great Loop in mostly Florida a few years ago.

This year, I left on November 27, 2025 (Thanksgiving Day) and returned home on February 12, 2026. I have an excellent winter housesitter, which takes a lot of the worries out of leaving home for so long. He’s a skier and he likes the proximity of Mission Ridge and Steven’s Pass, two local ski resorts. He was not happy about the lack of real winter weather this year. But that lack of winter weather is what got me home early; I was supposed to come home at the end of February.

I thought I’d take a few minutes to write up a summary of my trip’s expenses. I think I managed to do it quite affordably this year. You be the judge.

Fuel

Fuel was my biggest expense. I drove roughly 4500 miles — Central Washington to the Phoenix area to Albuquerque to Las Cruces to Sierra Vista to the Phoenix area to Quartzsite to Yuma to Holtville to Salton Sea (Mecca) to Death Valley to Central Washington. I suppose I could plot the whole trip and get an exact mileage, but I think this is pretty close considering all the little side trips I made along the way.

I went through Death Valley on my way home. They were forecasting a Superbloom this spring and I think they’ll have it, but the best bloom I saw was at the south end of Badwater Road where it climbs up toward Shoshone. Simply said, I was about 2-4 weeks too early. So I only spent one night.

I was driving my pickup, which gets decent mileage, considering its size. But I had the truck camper on top, which is quite a load, and I was towing a utility trailer. I got about 12 miles per gallon.

I spent a total of $1,493 on diesel. This was taking advantage of Fred Meyer and Fry’s discounts everywhere possible and making sure I topped off in cheaper places — like in Yuma instead of Southern California and then Barstow instead of near Death Valley. The highest price I saw for diesel was $6.80/gallon in Death Valley, but the highest I think I paid was $4.79/gallon at Barstow.

Camping

I camped in my RV a total of 77 nights. They can be broken down as follows:

*The part hookup campgrounds and two of the no hookup campgrounds had RV dump facilities and drinking water available.

Honestly, I think the cost of full hookup campsites is outrageous these days. The one at Salton Sea was quite affordable at $36.25 including reservation fees. Not only did it include power, water, and sewer hookups, but there was a BBQ grill, picnic table, and a great view of the lake. But a gravel, featureless parking spot in Quartzsite for $70/night? They get you coming and going there.

I like to spend a night every week or so at a full or part hookup campground just to “refresh” my camper — empty the waste tanks, fill the water tank, make sure the battery is fully charged.

I should mention here that although I brought my little Honda 2KW generator along with me, I never even took it out. My solar panels brought in enough power during the day for the 66 days I camped without any power hookup. Meanwhile, in many campgrounds that had no hookup — I’m looking at you, Boulder Beach — I had to listen to someone else’s generator from 6 AM to 10 PM. I’ll take the empty desert any day.

You can bet I didn’t hear any generators — or anything else, for that matter — at this campsite west of Shoshone and just south of Death Valley National Park. No one came down that road the entire time I was there.

If you’re RVing and you need a generator or power connection for an overnight stay, you’re doing it wrong.

Other Expenses

I ate out once in a while but not very often. I bought groceries. Although I could work up total costs for my meals, I don’t bother because I have to eat no matter where I go. Buying groceries and cooking at the camper saves a lot of money — just like cooking at home is cheaper than eating out.

I also had to pay for laundry at laundromats. I estimate that cost about $100 total. I think I did laundry 6 times while I was on the road.

I also didn’t add up the cost of propane. My camper uses propane for the stove, water heater, and furnace. It also uses propane to run the refrigerator when I’m not plugged in at a campground. I only heat the water once a day — in the morning to do the dishes and wash up. The furnace is probably the biggest consumer; I’m not going to be cold at night. This was a pretty mild winter, though. In the past, while boondocking, a 5-gallon tank of propane usually lasted about a week. This year, I got at least 10 days out of each one. It cost about $15 to refill and I think I got 6 refills.

(Why on earth are people using Blue Rhino and swapping tanks? Don’t you realize it costs about $10 more than just refilling your own tank? Six times is $60.)

Last RV Trip South?

Although it was nice to stop in new places along the way — I spent more than a week in New Mexico this year — it was not nice to drag that cargo trailer. The only reason I had it with me was because I had at least two art shows to attend and I had all kinds of show equipment to bring with me. The first show was a bust — I barely broke even. The second was okay, but none of my better work sold. It seems that people are holding onto their money these days and are less likely to spend it on things they don’t need. I certainly didn’t need to do those two shows. (In fact, the way the economy is going — not to mention the price of silver, which I use in my work — I’ve decided to take a step back (again) from doing art shows.)

I’m thinking that there are more places south of where I live than the US desert southwest. Mexico is cheap and easy and I have friends that spend the winter there. But maybe it’s time to start planning that trip to Australia that I’ve put off for 13 years. I’m not getting any younger. Three months down under might do me good.