"Dear Miss Mermaid...the OTHER Blog"

I Spy

2012-01-31T16:44:00.003-05:00

The Atlantic Ocean

Off the East Coast of Florida

Road to the campground

Upstate South Carolina

The road less traveled suddenly offered up this fabulous view in Virginia. There wasn't a place to stop, but I picked up my camera snapping this photo while driving. The flowers appear to be blowing in the wind, while the trees are stoic.

I call this type of picture a drive by shooting.

What a big wide beautiful world we are so fortunate to visit.

Rut Roh

2012-01-30T21:27:00.000-05:00

Thank You
I've been reading all the wonderful comments, some with questions too. I am going to address the questions (soon) and use some of the comments for future ideas. I do check the comments daily, what fun!

Rut Roh
I've been a real klutz lately. I stepped on the puppy dog's paw, which made him cry. That made me cry. So we both had a good cry. I cuddled him in my arms, babied him and loved him, so he would hopefully understand it was an accident. He gave me kissy face after awhile, so I hope that is puppy dog speak for forgiveness.

As the sun creeps up, the morning fog begins to dissipate.
This was my view an hour or so after I reported to the hunters station.
Scenes like this make workamping in the boonies well worth it.

Big BooBoo
I have an angry red injury right on my silly face. I manage to cut my mug from mid forehead, across my left eyelid and down to my upper cheek. Face cheek, not my rump. That was yesterday afternoon. This morning I look like a horror show! I couldn't brush my hair in front of the mirror so I didn't brush it for hours. I let it look wild like my ragged face. Ugh.

I am supposed to go to a potluck luncheon today. I would love to cover it up with thick makeup, but I am afraid of infecting it. I iced my face a good bit yesterday, plus slathered antibiotics on it several times. It hurts and it looks awful. It's complicated to explain how I managed this disasterous feat. But basically I got the bright idea to relocate the camping gazebo.

One of the upper frame strut joints is broken. I had tucked the broken frame strut back in place. Eventually I bought super glue to put it back together, but then forgot what the super glue was for. Duh... The other night I got the bright idea to do a project of gluing nonskid rubber to the back of a rattan tray, using up all the super glue I had on hand. I use the tray on top of the compact washer in my bedroom. It holds my drink, remote control, cell phone and bowl of popcorn if I am having that for dinner. In my haste to reach the bathroom, I bumped the tray, which slid across the washer, dumping iced tea all over the basket of dog toys and puppy sweaters. What a mess.

Realizing I had some spare grip-it shelf liner (pvc coated rubber typically used in boats and RVs) I got this bright idea to custom cut a piece to fit the bottom of the rattan tray. This would prevent it from skidding across the washer should I be a klutz in the future. The washer lid is slightly angled downward.

This worked so well, I decided it would be handier if the rubber was glued permanently to the bottom of the tray. I am a sailor and still think like one. I keep forgetting I live in a motorhome and not a boat. But still the motorhome tosses around when driving, maybe not as bad as a sailboat at sea, but things rattle, slip and slide inside the cabinets and drawers, if you don't have this wonderful grip-it shelf liner.

I carefully super glued the rubber, utilizing all the super glue I had on hand, which was 3 tiny tubes. I was extremely proud of this feat, because I managed to do so without gluing my fingers together (a common problem when you cross a klutz with super glue).

So when I moved the gazebo, the broken strut popped out of place, flying into my face attacking it. About that time, I suddenly remembered why I bought all that super glue. Ah ha!

I ran inside to throw a wet cold cloth over my face before I could bear to look in the mirror. Luckily my eyeball is fine as my eyelid instinctively closed tightly a nanosecond before the attack. When I finally worked up my nerve to look in the mirror, I was a tad shocked. A jagged piece of broken plastic can do a lot of damage. What's even worse, is that I already have old facial scars. I really didn't need a new one. Grrrrrrrrrr...

It would have been much easier to stay home and not go to the luncheon, but I had enthusiastically volunteered to make several dishes, plus a gallon of iced tea and bring my shoe box of ice from the freezer. Eventually I faced the mirror, fixed my hair, doctored up my face with antibiotics. There was just no way to hide the obvious booboo without making it even more conspicuous. I tried covering half my face with my long hair. While it looked alluring, it wasn't very functional for a luncheon, though I could have probably gotten away with it in a dark nightclub.

I tried my sunglasses on, but the luncheon was being held indoors rather than outdoors. My glasses are very dark, so it would have looked very unfriendly. Finally, I decided to just go and try to think up creative answers to my accident.

Like ages ago, when I busted my knee in a rough boating accident during a storm. I was living in the Caribbean on my old sailboat. For months, my leg was wrapped in bandages while I hobbled around on shore with a walker or a cane. When I sat down, I had to prop my leg up on another chair. Tourists kept asking me how I was injured. Tiring of the same old story, I began creating new ones. I told one crowd I did it on a bad landing from skydiving. Another inquiring mind, I replied I fell out of a coconut tree while making a pina colada. While in a beach bar, I told some inebriated patrons that it was injured by a shark bite.

That story came back to haunt me hours later. A reporter from the local newspaper tracked me down for an interview. He was quite deflated when he found out the shark bite was farcical.

Summer in January

2012-01-29T19:52:00.000-05:00

Summer is here! It's January and by 10am the past few days, our temps have gone from 50F to nearly 80F degrees. That's what I get for buying long bluejeans and a flannel night shirt. Summer arrived in January. In central Florida. Wheeeeeeee!

We don't have a weather reporter for our area. We apparently get different weather than the TV weather station which reports what's happening north of us in the Orlando area and east of us in the Melbourne area.

Lately I am banging on my Blue Ox tow hitch pin. It is a keyed lock. The RV didn't come with a key for it. A check with the past owners revealed they had no key either. An RV forum discussion claimed awhile back, that I could bust it off with a hammer.

Ha ha ha! Who are they kidding?

So far I've made tons of noise, enough to attract a curious camper, who spent a half hour banging on it too. It's still firmly attached.

I did have great luck repairing the door locks. I couldn't lock the door. I like to be locked in at night. I don't want raccoons or Sasquatch to come walking in on me after dark thirty. All the screws were loose. Just like me... a few screws loose.

I repaired the ceramic electric heater, it works better now but it still grunts and groans on occasion if I ask it to oscillate or rotate too often. Not sure which is does. Maybe it swings. My heater was a swinger. Maybe now it's old and too tired to swing. Sounds just like me, too tired to be a swinger again...

Recently I realized I utilize 4 electrical devices to stay warm when it gets cold around here. The last winter in Florida was pretty brutal, but not so this year. Oh sure we have some below freezing nights that sent me and the dog burying under the covers. But I have the 1500 water ceramic tower heater that is pretty compact and efficient. However, when it drops below 45F degrees, the RV starts to shiver and shake. I have 2 of those tiny 200 watt ceramic heaters that are about the size of of a little square tissue box. One keeps the bathroom toasty, the other I often use near my feet to make sure they are warm or I move it around to where I need it.

Lately the nights were mild enough, that I could close all the windows and just run the two small 200 watt heaters. The fourth item I use to stay warm is an electric mattress warmer. My bed is located right on the top of the basement storage area. This can make the mattress icy cold but the bed warmer makes me feel like a well fed kitty curled up to mama cat for a long winter's nap. Harley dog and I have changed places in the bed.

I now sleep the opposite way changing my foot to the head of the bed. Harley dutifully moved to another corner of the bed diagonally from where he used to sleep. Sometimes he sleeps in his own puppy bed, other times he loves to commandeer the afghan on my bed as his lair.

On top of all that I have the propane guzzling furnace that I rarely use. I love it, because it works fine and feel greats, making it toasty warm but it can empty out my built-in propane tank pretty quickly. They do sell propane only 8 miles away next to a pricey convenience store. So sadly, I rarely get to use the furnace, unless I am super cold, then I use it to kick in the heat until the wheel estate feels comfy again. While it's my first choice, it's pricey, and well I am still living on a small budget, trying to keep everyone happy and warm.

But now all this is for naught. Summery temps are here in January, at least during the day. Yippie!

RV Budgets (Part One)

2012-01-28T18:28:00.000-05:00

This is a reversed sunset. I took this picture in the south, facing east while the western sun was setting in north Osceola county in central Florida.There, that covered all points on the compass.

And you wonder how I get lost so often...

Just amazing! This world is just oh so beautiful. The more time I spend with nature the less regard I have for cities full of asphalt, concrete and excess traffic. Give me mother nature any time.

Now, beyond the beauty...

Many people email me about budgets for RV-ing. I dare say you can pretty much pick a budget, then learn to stick to it. You too can live happily ever after, as a vagabond in an RV. That is much easier said than done.

One way I keep my budget low is by not owning a car. My camper is a Class C (built on a van chassis) so I am able to drive it to run errands. I combine all my errands, keeping lists (which I frequently misplace) of suggested foods or supplies I need or desire. Eventually I go fetch them but I typically combine all that with a major outing that might involve camping elsewhere, even though I may already be workamping with my "spot" provided for me.

When I am traveling, without a homeport, it's easy to shop as I go along from place to place. People often point out that my gas cost must be more since I am driving the RV instead of a car. Maybe it is, somewhat, but on the other hand, I am not paying for the cost of a car plus all the upkeep that involves. That empty hole in my budget leaves me money for gas.

Sure lots of folks insist on towing their car behind their RV, everywhere they go, so they have a car when they get where they are going. But I think outside the box, I live quite happily without a car. Yet, I don't feel deprived in any way at all.

I am not one of those folks that has to drive somewhere each and every day to be happy. I work at home (in the wheel estate) and I take on workamping assignments, that typically involve "volunteering" for the government in exchange for camping "as a perk" for volunteering. In the end, this saves me camping fees, but I do have to donate my time.

In many ways, shopping in my RV is a lot more fun. I can put my groceries in the refrigerator, right in the grocery store parking lot. The dog gets to go everywhere with me. If it's too hot or too cold for him to be in the RV alone while I peruse the food selections, there is the generator, to keep him in climate controlled comfort in his rolling dog house. Some non-food stores, allow the dog to shop with me.

Harley has been in his share of hardware stores, RV stores, auto part stores, pet shops and so on.

My private restroom goes everywhere with me, no more tracking down public restrooms when I need them. As a reward to Harley, I walk him right after I go shopping. He has come to understand the difference between the short "go piddle" walks we take in the landscaping of the parking lot from the leisurely, let's tour the entire park or campground walks. (Yes, I am a good pet parent, we walk with poop bags and don't leave unsightly puppy deposits behind.)

Because I don't own a car, I don't dash out for frivolous things. I plan ahead and keep a pantry in the RV stocked up with most of the food stables I like to have around. Even when I do shop or go out in my RV, I tend to make a whole day or several days of it. Since my entertainment budget is pretty close to zero, I search the internet for dog parks and public parks that I can enter for free. Often after I am through with shopping, then I go explore a free park. This way I get more bang for my buck. I've already spent the gas to go shopping, why not do some exploring and photography too.

When I was workamping in north Georgia, shopping was 30 miles round trip, but the dog and I mostly took the whole day, taking time to enjoy freebies before we came home again to the park we were working in.

Recently I've had to travel to Melbourne for medical mess, once a month, which is only about 40-ish miles one way from where I workamp. Rather than just dash over for my appointment and back again, I made campground reservations for a few nights in Melbourne in Wickham Park. Besides the medical mess, I shopped at all my favorite bargain stores assembling groceries and supplies at discounted prices. Harley went to the dog park, we went to public parks, plus we camped out. We do a lot of touring on foot and paw. This is very budget friendly, as a little exercise has fabulous health benefits.

A friend had offered to drive me over to the doctor's appointment and back in their vehicle, but I graciously declined. They seemed perplexed, saying they wanted to help me save money, it seemed a shame to drive the RV 80 miles, r just for one appointment.

But I rattled off I wanted to go to Dollar Tree, Dollar General, Lowes, Winn Dixie, the dog park, the Latino place that has cheap produce plus the doctors appointment and maybe a few more places in the area. Since all that would poop me out, I might as well spend the night at Wickham Park, and since it's so lovely there, it would be such a shame to pack up and leave the next morning, so I was going to stay at least two nights before coming back. Might as well enjoy the beautiful scenery there and shoot some photos, continue working on my writing, and repairing the RV, the usual stuff.

So all in all I put about 100 miles on the RV what with shopping around the medical appointments, but look at everything I did in the interim. With a car, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to spend the night in an alternate town or campground.

Because I have this fatigue problem at times, having the RV along is wonderful. I came out of the grocery store, feeling a bit rough recently, so I put away the food, then closed up my shades, laying down for a short nap. This refreshed me enough to continue with my errands later.

Having my RV along, means I don't spend money dining out. The dog and I can eat anytime, anywhere, right out of our own fridge. Forgoing restaurants is a huge savings on a tiny budget. I feel that I eat much healthier foods, than is typically available at restaurants these days. So many are chain and franchise places where the food was partially made thousands of miles away with lots of sugars and preservatives, then trucked to the restaurants for heating and serving. So I save money and hopefully prevent many future health problems by avoiding these rampant preprocessed food chemicals.

I make meals into an art form. We've dined in parks and at wayside picnic areas, often enjoying the view of a lake, stream or river. We often have far better vistas than are available at the local restaurants anyhow.

Many people think it takes a lot of money to live in an RV and travel, but there are many ways to do it on a small budget too. Even a tiny budget.

This is just the tip of the iceberg of some of the ways to live fulltime in an RV on a reduced financial plan.

I will go into more details in a future post.

It's raining...
My copilot is wearing his little red mackintosh, in anticipation of a walk in the drizzle.
Even the dog is on a budget. His raincoat cost $1 and he has been using it for almost two years.

Ghostly Aura

2012-01-27T21:10:00.000-05:00

The eerie fog that greets us almost every morning.
It's extremely hard to photograph, but I keep trying.

It's raining. Of course it's because of me.

First I bought some winter clothes deeply discounted. That triggered us into record breaking summer temperatures, yet it's January and we have had 80 plus Fahrenheit degrees for a week now during the daylight.

So I got the bright idea to begin washing the wheel estate. I say begin, because it's so big and I tucker out so easily, that it takes me days to wash the exterior from top to bottom, and end to end. I am barely half done after toiling away on it for 3 days.

Well guess what.

The heavens opened up and the rains poured down. The temps even cooled to a mere 77F.

Am I controlling the weather or what?

More later I am still pooped out.

The early morning fog gives the forest an ethereal ghostly aura.
If Big Foot came walking out, I would not be shocked nor surprised.

Camouflaged

2012-01-26T15:28:00.000-05:00

Camouflaged closeup of a hunter's travel trailer.

Seven days makes one weak... I get tuckered out so easily, it's frustrating at times. Of course I wake up with enthusiasm, trying to stay busy all day long. I have so much to do, I never get it all done. When someone tells me they are bored or need something to do... my jaw drops open in total shock.

Maybe I learned it from my mother. She was never bored (nor boring.) As a child, if I dared to say I was bored, heaven help me. She would rattle off a dozen things I could do from going outside to play to reading a book to folding the laundry or doing the dishes. On a pretty day, she never wanted us indoors. I can hear her voice now. "It's a beautiful day! Go outside and play! You need some fresh air and sunshine!"

Is that a donkey or what?

I've been busy with repairs. It's never ending. The other evening it was way past dark thirty when I closed the door to the wheel estate. It would not lock. I like to lock all the doors at dark thirty. I found the tool box then commenced fiddling with the lock. I guess one screw vibrated loose, which made the whole lock a little wiggly. It bounced as I drove, loosening up more screws. It's a darn miracle the entire lock didn't just fall off completely. The second lock, the one I rarely use as it doesn't seem as strong as the deadbolt, is missing a screw. I just hate that. Well, I have to take out the twin, then size up a new one for that too.

Yesterday, for some fool reason, I decided to wash the outside of the wheel estate. We've had summery weather every afternoon the past week. What I didn't realize was that my RV was well overdue for an outside bath. It doesn't want to come clean! It didn't look that dirty, until I washed one area, then the rest of it looked positively dreadful. Rather spiteful of it, don't you think?

Even worse, it is 10.5 feet high and I am 5.25 feet tall. My neighbor was amused at me only washing the bottom half, so he brought over his long handled scrub brush. Grrrrrr... OK, I was gracious about it...

About the time I got the upper side good and sudsy, I frantically realized the windows were opened. Oops! I never thought I would get so much washed.

I dashed inside to close them all firmly. Then back out to rinse off the drying suds. Now the flat calm air turned to gutsy gusty winds. As I tried to rinse off with my long wand attached to the water hose, the gale blew all the rinse water back at me, soaking me and my clothes. Harley ran under the wheel estate whimpering.

I managed to scrub about 40% of the RV before I pooped right out. I dare say only 20% of it looks kind of clean. Oh pooh.

Puppy dog and I laid down. I was so exhausted, it worried me some, but this happens to me often enough, that I am more or less getting used to it. We both fell asleep for a good 90 minutes. It used to be I could get by on a 20 minute nap, then a 30 minute, then a 45 minute snooze. lately I am astonished to wake up, realizing I have been at my siesta for 90 or more minutes.

It's 11:15am as I type this, I have over 2 more hours left at my 8 hour shift at the hunters station. I am dead tired, ready to nap. Oh dear me!

Well, I will get up and start puttering around, trying to jar my self into staying awake. Sure I've been busy since 4am, when I woke up, but now I am fatigued. No fair!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OK, I went out and played ball with the puppy, then we went for a walk. Next I shook all the muck out of the rugs and washed them. Whew. Anything to keep me awake for a few more hours until my shift is over. I ran out of work to do, as we had no hunters at all show up today. I cleaned up the station, did the paperwork, waved at the workers that went in to spray bushes.They are vague as to what they are doing, but there's a crowd of them in there doing it. They drive 100 miles every day to come spray. I waved at the wildlife biologist who drove by. Then a little old lady blew through the stop signs and entered the wildlife area.

She didn't even stop when I tried to flag her down. Very strange. At least she didn't run me over!

Life is good.

The palmetto prairie at Three Lakes Wildlife Management is just awesome.

Hidden Treasures

2012-01-24T21:50:00.000-05:00

Traffic Jam

2012-01-23T11:46:00.003-05:00

We got stuck in heavy traffic this morning at Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area. Um... do cows qualify as wildlife?

Harley does this when the indoor heat is set too low. You can't even tell where the head ends and the tail begins.

Harley waits for lunch. Notice his tether is going six different directions.

Harley's fur is growing back out from the erratic trim he received when sand spurs stuck in his fur last October at Hunting Island Beach, South Carolina.

Waterfront lots with idyllic views like this make Long Point Park in Florida very popular for campers. We had to leave on Friday because the weekend was sold out completely by advance reservations. Just for grins I checked into a monthly rate for next winter. The quoted rate was nearly double my modest erratic monthly income, so obviously, this won't be happening. Guess I better find more workamping! Long Point Park does not use workampers at all. What a shame, I would have pestered them mightily for a position.

Harley is practicing to be a big game hunter with his new raccoon toy. Harley says THANK YOU with a big slobbery kissy face to the fan that sent him this fur play critter. Should I be jealous? Harley gets fan mail and gifties! His raccoon came with two squeakers, which he loved the sound of so much, he spent days and nights entertaining me, himself and the other campers with his tossing and throwing and frequent squawking of the raccoon. Recently a certain somebody (hint: comes with 4 legs) managed to remove one of the squeakers.

Short Legs and Long Tales

2012-01-21T10:21:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a travel day, so no writing. I woke up, tried to get a few things done. I felt so lousy, couldn't think straight, so I went back to bed. Woke up again astonished to find out it was 11:30 and checkout was at noon. I was looking for the phone number to call about another day, knowing this was probably impossible. Long Point Park is extremely popular. The county residents of Brevard get a discounted rate, so many use this to fill up the park on the weekends. In the past I have mostly visited the park during week days, due to my inability to plan ahead to get proper reservations.

I have to escape these doctors. They seem to be making me sicker. How does that work? Maybe I just catch bugs when I am in the waiting room with the sick people. Yuck.

Here I am parked at Long Point Park. Or was. It's cheaper "inland" than on the water front lots, so I am inland. You can see my rumpled awning is rolled up with repair tape dangling off one end. It's really just shot to pieces at this point. It has braved a few too many storms and one flood.

Even this visit to Long Point RV Park was on a whim. When Wickham Park filled up, I moved to Long Point. Now it's filled up, with snowbirds and weekend warriors. My appointments are done, even though I still did not get to the dentist and eye doc. I need new eyeglasses and my tooth broke off. Oh well. More poop to deal with in the future. Ugh. Time to get back to the prairie with my sick self and get back to work.

I did get a very reasonable quote on replacing my RV shade awning and repairing the frame. Dream on! It ain't happening anytime soon...

They gave me one all inclusive price for installation and they are willing to travel out to the prairie where I am back workamping now. More wishful wistful thinking... but at least I have a price to work with and dream and drool about.

Sadly, it's not something I can install myself. My 17 year old awning has been dying a slow tortuous death. The last bad storm when I was on the coast of South Carolina finished it off. Matter of fact, that was during that stormy period that also sent a heavy tree limb through my roof and into my kitchen. The awning is in tatters. It's time to drag out the bugle and play Taps.

You need two people, ladders and special tools to take the old awning off and replace with a new one. I've tried looking for used awnings, but had no luck at all thus far, finding the size I need in a good enough shape to consider the ridiculous pricing. Some folks want an awfully high price for used junk. One RV shop had a used awning and frame, but they wanted the same price as a new awning and frame. I don't understand this kind of pricing. Maybe I look like an idiot and other idiots give me idiotic prices.

Maybe it's the female thing... I had similar problems when I owned and lived aboard my old sailboat. Some boat yards, would give me ridiculously high prices for work and parts that they would never dream of quoting to a male. Very frustrating.

When I deal with RV shops, it seems to be a real hit and miss. Some are fair with me, others think my wallet is gold plated and my brain is out to lunch, so they figure up a quote, them multiply it by 3 or 4 or 5 to see if I am stupid enough to pay that.

Someone else recently told me they had their RV engine "serviced" and it came to $2,800.00 I said "My gosh, did you have the engine block chrome plated?" They said, no it was just "regular servicing" for an oil change and "routine maintenance stuff". I didn't want to insult them by saying they were crazy, but if someone gave me a bill for an oil change and "routine maintenance stuff" for $2,800.00 you would definitely hear about me on the news.

Woman runs over RV service manager repeatedly, claims it was payment for routine maintenance stuff...

Well, I will work Saturday and Sunday running the hunters station. I may just drive my RV and park across from the station. This is a much warmer arrangement, as I need to stay warm as part of my get-well health routine. But the 50ish night time temps are soaring up during the day lately. Yet recently we were down to freezing temps at night. Matter of fact, two workampers had their plumbing freeze overnight just recently. I was surprised as they are old timers not newbies.

50F on the coast feels nice, but inland on the prairie with the high moisture from the swamps and marshes, makes it a wet cold that is bone chilling.

Luckily, summer suddenly arrived with temps pushing 80F yesterday. Matter of fact, we are supposed to have several summery days this week with middle of the day temps in the high 70's through Friday. Yippie!

You can thank me for this sudden weather shift. I just recently assembled my winter wardrobe. That's why winter vanished! If you want it to rain, just wait until I hang my laundry out to dry. Does the trick every time.

Last winter in Florida was particularly brutal. I was in Orlando for November and December then Titusville for about 10 weeks starting in January. I also made it to other parks here and there. I have that wandering spirit, so hard for me to stay put.

I nearly froze, it was so c-c-c-cold. My long leggings were ancient and the seams and material gave way so as winter bore on, I had to trash them. As spring hit, I found winter leggings deeply discounted, so I bought two pairs. This winter they have been a lifesaver, the only long pants I own. Some days I had to wear two pairs at a time to stay warm though. Some of the sweaters I bought used from Goodwill the last two winters, wore out completely (holey and threadbare) leaving me with two sweaters for this winter. One is rather lightweight, and the other is heavily bedazzled with a beautiful sequined design, more for a party than for working or playing. Matter of fact, I bought it used, to attend an elegant party two winters ago. I don't get invited to many elegant places lately. But since then, sometimes I wear it for fun. Makes everyone think I am going somewhere special. It always draws great comments. But it's not suitable at all for working at the hunters station, removing deer jaw bones, hacking off quail wings and getting occasionally splattered with hog blood. Double yuck yuck!

Recently Big Lots sold me two screaming red men's sized sweat shirts for $3. They are very long on me, coming down to mid-thigh and very warm. I seemed more or less ready for this winter.

While doing my medical mess, I saw a store with a huge sign on the window advertising that much of their clothing was on sale at 70% off. I had just received a unique windfall from a wonderful gambling friend who sent me some of their winnings as an early birthday gift. WOW! I was gong to save it for emergencies...

But I found myself touring the store, checking all their 70% discounted racks. Lo and behold, they had petite jeans which fit my short legs perfectly. I have not owned bluejeans in decades! There really was no need to own any in the Caribbean. Buying pants, other than leggings has always been problematic for me. Even the leggings are so long, I wear them right over my feet like toe-less socks. This helps keep my feet warm, so it has worked out fine thus far. But bluejeans can't be worn that way. The petite jeans were on the 70% off rack. I had no idea what size I wore. The saleslady snatched up a pair and said "Try these!" I couldn't believe it when I tried them on and they fit perfectly. She must have a good eye for sizing up the looks and lumps of me.

When I decided to buy the jeans, the price was so fantastic, I asked her if they had a 2nd pair in my size. She went on her computer and said they had a pair in a lighter blue jean color (the ones I had picked out were the typical dark indigo color) but they were at a store 350 miles away.

Oh well.

However, she said I could buy them now, and the other store would stick them in the mail to me, with free shipping. I couldn't believe my ears. So after some hemming and hawing, I decided I wasn't likely to find bluejeans that fit me so perfectly being sold so cheaply again anytime soon, so I decided to splurge and buy both pairs. I am used to Goodwill and Thrift store prices, as much of my wardrobe is second-hand stuff I acquired. But with jeans at 70% off and Goodwill charging nearly that much for used pants that aren't even jeans, I figured this might be a good deal all around.

I don't know why I fret over buying clothes. If I packed up my entire wardrobe, it would all fit in one suitcase. I am always astonished when I see my friends' homes and their huge walkin closets that look like a mid-sized clothing store.

So that's why we have summer weather. It's my fault. I bought long pants!

A park ranger came by to remind me to leave at noon. I told him I was running late, would that be a problem? He said , no not really. Most Friday arrivals don't come until late afternoon. Checkin was at 2pm, so I might be OK for awhile. He thought the office could probably squeeze me in some where for a night, but not at my existing spot.

Harley was sad to leave. We were on an end lot, that came with an incredibly huge grassy/weed area. He was playing on a 100 foot tether, having great fun entertaining the pedestrians while he fought with his teddy bear and squeaked his barbell loudly.

One thing I noticed at this park, I had not really noticed much at other parks, was that many of the snowbirds who had moved in for the winter, had put up little fences between their lot and the neighbors lot. This struck me as rather odd. I sure don't want a fence and feel no need to stake one out on my camping lot.

My neighbor gave me the stink eye, because I parked perpendicular to the way he was parked, but I wanted to be that way and this particular park doesn't care how you park on your lot. Everyone in the row was lined up nice and neat and parallel to each other. Then I came along and screwed up their row...

Basically, my windshield was facing the utility post that separated our lots. So my windshield was facing the side of his RV. I put my front windshield curtains up at night, so he didn't have to look at me.

It wouldn't have mattered. I found a 70% off flannel night shirt in pink plaid with red hearts. Oh man, that thing is oh so cozy at night. I threw out my other two nightshirts as they were both pretty disgusting, and in such sad shape I am sure the thrift shops would not have been able to recycle them except for pathetic rags.

I feel like a new person, all dudded up, now if I can just get my body to get well and stay well and quit irritating me. In the interim, back to bed for me. I need to rest up before my shift at work. No rest for the sick here! Crack that whip and get to work. Since it pays the rent, I've no choice really. I woke up and I am happy and I have a silly little dog too. I must be the luckiest person alive!

Nosy Navigator

2012-01-19T15:15:00.001-05:00

I must sound crazy. But that is old news...

We got lost again. My navigator had his nose glued to the window, barking out directions. He claims the Atlas is too big for his wittle paws, so he will just sniff out a new route.

Somehow, somebody took US-1 south instead of A1A south... Do you know that bridges are few and far between going east across the Indian River from US-1 to A1A?

I thought Harley was over his bridge phobia. We worked really hard on this at Hartwell Lake.

So, we drove south, south, south, then east then north, north, north... so that 70 miles later we were 27 miles from our starting point. It reminded me of sailing upwind, how you zigzag back and forth doing twice the miles to get where you are going.

Maybe my dog is a sailor. He can tie knots. He loves to pull on ropes. He enjoys slowly going nowhere at great expense.

A day at the beach for the wild things.

Later, while chatting on the phone, I was bragging to a friend how I had purged my drawers and clothing closet in the RV of stuff that was holey, ragged, stained and thread bare except for one sentimental shirt I should part with and just have not. It has traveled with me for 28+ years. Simply amazing. It is now pretty thin, when it used to be rather thick. Why can't I just throw it away? What could be so sentimental about a faded threadbare old nearly rotten shirt when space is at such a premium? Just for good measure, I have slept in that shirt on a warm night now and then. You can see right through it, which is not how it was designed.

My friend, who has visited in my motorhome several times, laughed and said "Is there anything left in your closet?"

"Of course there is, just that now there is lots of spare room too!"

My friend replied "I've seen your closet, what is it, about 12 inches wide? And you have, what two or three dresser drawers?"

We both burst out laughing. I measured. My closet is a whopping 16 inches wide and I have 3 dresser drawers underneath it. Amazingly the closet holds dresses, shirts, sweaters, tunics, jackets and shoes. With room to spare thanks to me throwing the rags out.

Lately my housekeeper has vanished.

Harley couldn't carve his initials into this tree, so he peed on it to let the others know he was here. Interestingly, there are some hobo marks on it too.

Oops! I am the housekeeper. That part of me has left the scene of the crime. I've let everything just pile up everywhere, while I concentrated on the daggum medical mess appointments and the infernal paperwork associated with same. I've had to drive my RV almost everyday to and from the campground to appointments, as I don't have a car. I think of myself as "being green and eco-friendly" by not owning two polluting vehicles. This has worked out fine except juggling numerous appointments spread out over several days. Not my choice, but the powers to be don't understand why I want to schedule everything on one day and knock it all out at once.

The birds at Long Point Park Campground on the spacecoast in Florida are totally unafraid of campers and dogs.

Just for grins, I drooled over e-bikes again recently. I am saving up for an electric bicycle that can also be pedaled. Actually it's really a battery assisted bicycle with a rechargeable battery. I figure that way I can ride the bike, and if I get pooped out, I can flip a switch to use the battery assist to get back home again. Strangely enough, the "used" E-bikes in the classified ads are listed for sale at the same or higher prices than they can be found new. Am I missing something in this scenario? I thought used junk was supposed to be discounted.

I was hoping to buy a cheap E-bike, to see if this is going to work for me. Of course Harley wants a little front basket so he can tag along on trips. Add to that a bike lock, another rear basket for groceries or stuff like a jacket, a ding-a-ling bell and a night light in case I misjudge sunset and... suddenly the accessories add another 50% to the cost of the bike. Probably more, because I will also need a bike rack on the back of the RV and perhaps even a head helmet and knee pads. Good grief. I already own a 12volt air pump for the tires. It came with the RV when I bought it. At the rate of my erratic income, the E-bike may have to wait another year or two or more.

Well, in the interim, doggy and I walk when we can and drive when we can't. It is fun to take the dog everywhere. The day he was in the animal hospital for his alteration, I was sad, lonely and lost.

I have been trying to sell my used Blue Ox Aventa II Tow Bar Class IV (10,000 pound) 2 inch receiver that takes up weight and space on the rear of the RV for towing a car. It came with the RV and I don't own a car. I had this silly idea of selling it and putting the proceeds towards the E-bike. So far, in two years, I've had no luck of selling it. I place ads, they expire, I forget. I've had some buyers who contacted me after I had drove 300 miles away...

One buyer actually came out in person, was extremely rude, and told me in a very loud voice that "It's NOT new!" as if my ad had been misleading (it was not). It seems most everyone who needs a tow hitch, has one, so selling one is apparently problematic. However, if you want to buy it, I am in central Florida and here is my Email .

It used to be I would clean up the entire RV before I drove anywhere. Lately I've just been stashing the breakables, then driving the motorhome to my appointments, on my merry way. Anyone that dares to peek in my windows certainly gets an eyeful of what the aftermath of an indoor hurricane looks like. I've had to cough up tons of paperwork lately. Computers in the last 3 decades seem to have done nothing to abate the mountain of paperwork required to get simple things done.

I'm changing my residency again, a chronic problem for full timers in RV's. The USA refuses to accept that well over a million folks live with "no fixed address". The list of papers I need to switch over my driver's license is frighteningly long. I may need a file box on wheels to push into the license department, to accomplish this task. They have seemingly asked for everything except my DNA and first born child.

I try not to travel with breakables, but it's hard to live a semi-modern life without them. Breakables include stashing the laptop computer and components, tying up the circa 1994 coffee pot carafe, stabilizing the electric heaters, 2 are tiny but one is not and making sure the semi-fragile medical equipment is lassoed to prevent breakage. I have a few breakable dishes, but they live in a jumbo kitchen drawer and I have those thick and thin rubbery shelf liners to wrap around the coffee mugs so they don't chip or rattle or break in the drawer. I just can't seem to bring myself to drink coffee out of a plastic mug. I have spare ceramic mugs too, for company.

Recently I purged and rearranged my dresser drawers. Now my breakable electronics get to ride a in a comfy drawer with my undies as nice soft cushiony padding. Since RV drawers are designed to stay locked in place when not in use, this is working rather well. Somehow, in my cleaning and purging of the drawers, I ended up with a small EMPTY drawer. How did that happen?

A friend left behind a bottle of wine. I rarely ever drink, but might as well save it for a special dinner with company or a future gift. So it is living in a drawer with my leggings and socks now. On the sailboats, I worked aboard, the wine very often lived in the bilges. Sometimes it got wet and the labels fell off.

Shopping for food in all plastic containers is not always feasible, but I have built-in places for keeping the glass jars and bottles, as long as they aren't too big.

By golly, I think I am getting the hang of it all, this business of living in an RV that doubles as a car and home and dog house and office and hospice and cave and padded cell and...

Life is grand!

Comedy Team

2012-01-17T11:45:00.000-05:00

Harley and I have become a real comedy team. Maybe we should call ourselves Giddy and Goofy. My nose is doing a tad better from the vice grip slap. The next morning, I even climbed along the floor, looking for them under the furniture. I didn't want to stub my toe on them next.

The leaping tea bags were corralled inside a clear zipper bag; the heavy duty type they wrap pillow cases in when they are selling them separately. While their offending box (which as I previously wrote, slapped my nose twice in one day) was thrown to the garbage. Matter of fact, I went to look for a jacket, then suddenly purged my own closet of clothing that was holey or stained or wore out or any combination of that. Well, that certainly left more room in the closet. I looked to see if any of the clothing could be donated, but frankly it was all in such super sad shape, I can't imagine anyone paying to wear it again.It was all clothing I had bought used that simply gave out.

After a long day dealing with the medical mess, then a trip through the dog park, to make us laugh, Harley and I made it back to our campground at Wickham Park in Melbourne, Florida. Our camp site is a tricky spot with a few obstacles. I backed in while neighbor campers watched to see if I was going to take out the utility post or the tree or the picnic table or the dump station or the signs.

I swear I heard two guys placing bets. We came within inches of each, giving them something to point and gasp about. Since the park is full, I was assigned a least favorite spot, which is very narrow, on a curve and at the dump station. It requires some creative turns to avoid hitting the sign posts and plumbing at the dump station while dodging the utility post, two trees and the 8 ton 6 foot picnic table.

Seeing a woman alone arrive at near dark-thirty to complete these maneuvers, is quite the entertainment for some of the bored pensioners who live here all winter.

Luckily our spot came with a wonderfully cheerful neighbor, who chats us up several times daily while her cat gives Harley smug dismissive looks. We discuss and gross out over the number of folks that handle their sewer hoses bare handed while utilizing the dump station. Yuck! Obviously they have never studied the life cycles of parasites and the diseases they can cause. Double YUCK!

What's Eating You?: People and Parasites

I am very fortunate my wheel estate came with an outside faucet that has hot and cold water. In the little faucet compartment, I am able to keep soap stashed there as well. I use heavy duty gloves to handle the sewer, then wash them under the hot soapy water, next I wash the faucet handles, before I even take the gloves off, so all is nice and clean. Hopefully if all goes well, I don't get any sewer on any part of my skin, therefore avoiding my participation in the life-cycle of parasites.

For you non RV folks, a dump station is where you empty out your holding tanks. Black water is the toilet sewer. Gray water is the sink and shower water, so RV's come with two holding tanks, one for each type of sewer. This park does not have individual sewer hookups at the camp sites.

Once we were backed in, I hopped out with Harley attached to the leash which is attached to a jumbo carabiner which also has a bag on it with doggy poop baggies and my keys to the motorhome and engine.

I remembered to lock the driver's door, because we planned to enter through the main entry door, after we hooked up the umbilical cords.

While outside the motorhome, I plugged in life support, namely the heavy 30amp electrical cord and the ancient fresh water hose that is cantankerous. It folds up on itself, preventing the water from moving freely. I unkinked and unfolded the decrepit water hose until I could hear the whoosh of fresh water. Then it taunted me by leaking. I found some Teflon tape to unscrew it, wrap it in tape, then rescrew it, hoping that would resolve the leak. It didn't. I think this particular hose is possessed by the devil. It's probably 17 years old. It came with the motorhome. My other newer water hoses were left out on the prairie, still attached out there, as I wasn't planning to be in Melbourne near this long.

Harley and I took a quick stroll around the campground while he watered the landscaping here and there. The fading sunset quickly plunged into darkness as the temperatures seemingly dropped another 10 degrees. I wish I had taken time to put my jacket on, but I was just getting out to hookup the motorhome, not realizing I was going for a walk as well. We had to stop while Harley greeted some of the other dogs out on their walks, plus several campers were in a chatty mood.

Some pet parents are not very friendly, yanking the leash of their dog upon approach with any other dog. This instantly frightens their dog into being overaggressive, thinking that the yank of the leash is the owner's way of panic. Their dog now shifts into protection mode, becoming very unfriendly rather quickly.

Not fun.

Incredibly, if the pet parent would pay attention, they would notice that one second earlier, their dog was happily wagging his tail, in anticipation of meeting another doggy. Meanwhile the pet parent claims their dog isn't friendly. But typically their dog wants to be friendly, but the canine brain thinks the pet parent is freaking out with that rapid tug of the leash thus, needing aggressive protection.

So while some pet parents and their canine critters were relaxed and friendly, others were uptight and not so hospitable.

Back at the motorhome, it was practically pitch black. I held up the carabiner to access the door key. That's when I noticed there were NO KEYS attached at all. Oh what a sinking feeling. I felt about 2 inches tall at that moment. A check of all three doors was futile but I dutifully checked anyhow. They were all locked. The windows, which are pretty high up, when you are standing outside, were all closed and firmly locked.

Here we were, standing in the dark shivering. All pooped out. We were locked out of our nice little warm wheel estate. Harley jumped up on the door step, then back down again, then up again, wagging his tail, staring at me, as if to jar my brain to open the door. Even more maddening, I could see one set of keys dangling from the ignition. I have no idea what we did with the other set of keys. Some times I wish Harley could answer these mysteries. But his memory comes and goes too.Some days day he plays fetch, bringing the ball back to within inches of me. Other days, he can't remember to get it within six feet.

Oh pooh.

As I pondered our ridiculous predicament, I thought about homeless folks and how deflated they must feel out in the cold, night after night. I said a prayer for them, thinking I should try to do more than just hand over jingly change when I meet someone down on their luck.

However, I heard about a local panhandler who has a hilarious sign on his shirt that reads "The truth is I wanna buy beer and cigs."

Another one stands on a busy street corner with a sign "Bet you can't hit me with a quarter!" I don't know why I was thinking of all this instead of how to get inside my wheel estate.

But eventually a tiny lightbulb dimly came on in my head. Ah ha!

A long time ago, I became worried that one day when I hopped out to pump gas or check the parking levels before turning off the engine, Harley might push my lock button down. He is often enthusiastic, when I stop, bouncing around like his feet are spring loaded, placing his front paws all over the driver or passenger window as he looks outside to see where we have stopped. Thus far he has never locked me out. Until now. But technically it wasn't his fault, just that usually the keys are on his leash.

Awhile back I had hidden a spare key to the entry door in a place that no one is likely to ever find at all. It is very cleverly disguised. I had not checked in ages upon ages to see if it still existed in its safe hidy hole.

It was time to say our prayers, paste on a great big smile (because smiling makes things better) even in the dark. I searched for the spare key without benefit of a flashlight, as they were all locked up inside too. I guess I should put one in an outside locker. Duh... the things I think up when it's a bit too late. Amazingly, in the dark, I located the spare key. Eureka!

Giddy and Goofy... averted disaster once again.

Yippie doodle doo!

Cargo Shifts

2012-01-16T09:53:00.001-05:00

I should know this after two years of driving my motorhome to run errands or relocate. Cargo shifts. But still I forget. After parking from what seemed like a sedate trip, I opened up the overhead cabinet in the kitchen. A box of tea bags came tumbling out. Suddenly a mini hurricane appeared out of nowhere, spreading those tea bags far and wide. I eventually gathered them all up, being forced to toss some in the garbage because a few landed in a sink holding dirty dishes. Ugh.

I put the box away. I needed to attend to another medical mess appointment and run some errands. When I turned the ignition key, a woman spoke up behind me saying "What are you doing today?". I nearly jumped out of my skin as did the dog, who began barking ferociously at the woman.

Then we realized, she was on the radio. The speakers had been switched to play in back, not in front, so her voice appeared to be in back of the motorhome. The dog and I calmed down, then drove to our appointment.

The doctor asked me a lot of strange questions. One of them was "Did you come here alone?" I said "No." He asked "Who did you come with?" I replied "My dog." He asked "Who drove?"

After a pregnant pause I said "Well, um, the dog drove while I barked off the directions."

At that point, the doctor slowly looked up from his clipboard and gave me a grunt.

Somehow we eventually got around the part where he found out I was utilizing alternative treatments. He pointed out these were not FDA approved. I said "Well, yes, I know, and that's why they are called alternative treatments... Just because some bureaucrat in Washington hasn't sanctified the treatment, does not mean it is bad."

He grunted.

At this point, I began to nervously look around the walls for his diplomas. There were none, just some lovely paintings in cheap frames. As tough as it is to graduate from med school and do the grueling intern work, most doctors happily plaster their walls with diplomas (in expensive frames too.)

Finally when I was released, we went shopping. That's because Dollar General was having their $5 coupon day. Spend $25 and get $5 off. Since they sell food, camping and household supplies, it's a really good bargain for my erratic budget. Amazingly my cart added up to $25.50 and with the $5 off, I only paid $20.50 Then we noticed we were only three doors down from a Salvation Army Thrift Store. Ut oh.

Well, actually I noticed. Harley was busy studying which bushes to water, while I took him on a 1 minute tour of the parking lot landscaping.

The Salvation Army Thrift Store had much better pricing than Goodwill. As I perused loads of stuff, I was about to leave empty handed, when binga-banga-boom, I spied brand new Brita Water Filters priced at $1 each. There were 9 and I grabbed them all. For another 35 cents, I ended up with a fluffy new hand towel and a beautiful woven wall basket. To stretch out storage in my wheel estate, I have been slowly collecting and hanging up decorative wall baskets. This is like adding extra drawers or shelves. My towels are few and far between, so a nice fluffy hand towel, was wonderful, as I wash my hands often.

At the checkout station, an older bearded man was quite jolly. I told him I appreciated the great price on the water filters, normally they are $5-8 a piece. He said "Lady, we just put those on the shelf about an hour ago."

"Well, they are all gone now!" I cheerily replied. I felt really lucky, because I have been using Brita Water filters for decades now. I can taste the difference for sure. My budget doesn't allow for me to purchase overpriced bottled water. Then there is the storage problem, where to put a mountain of bottled water. I cook and drink from my Brita Water Pitcher, so I go through gallons a day. I use about 5-8 filters per year, so this little bargain saved me a small bundle.

At the end of the day I felt oh so lucky to be alive, goofy doctor and all.

After parking at the campground again, I foolishly opened the same overhead kitchen cabinet and the exact same thing happened all over again. That box of tea tumbled out and exploded all over creation.

Deja Vu or Deja boo-boo?

This time many more were lost when they landed in a dirty bowl of water, soaking in the sink. Well, that's what I get for getting behind on dishes. But what with never dining out, always in, there are always dirty dishes in progress. (Well, I did dine out recently when my friend won the lottery and took me out. It was a royal treat too!)

Later, I was trying to fix something overhead in the motorhome when somehow I lost my grip on the vice grips. They landed squarely on my upturned nose which was stuck to my silly face. I was oh so mad, shocked and bewildered. Plus it hurt something awful!

I am afraid the puppy learned a whole new set of curse words.

The offending vice grips bounced off my nose and under a chair to parts unknown. Well, I guess that is just another in the long list of incomplete repairs. Me, my swollen nose and the enlightened puppy climbed into the padded cell. At least there, we would be safe. I was exhausted and tired of being hit by tea bag boxes and vice grips.

I'd love to meet the owner of this vehicle...

Paw Prints

2012-01-14T06:33:00.002-05:00

Sunrise in Osceola County, Florida.

Dear Miss Mermaid is a tad sick, so the puppy dog is getting his paw in print today.

I woke up to this wondrous beauty. The first miracle of the day; the sunrise. (Handing the camera wiff my wittle paws, ain't easy!)

Here's a map of Osceola County, Florida.

I doubt I will get to pee on every tree in the county, but I am sure trying my best anyhow.

I am not going to have otoplasty. The tabloids were all wrong about that. There is nothing wrong with my ears. I think I might just have this look trademarked.

I just wuv my new birthday jacket. The shearling is so soft on the inside. On cold days like today, it keeps me toasty warm.

Now that we are in Melbourne, Florida for medical mess, we have to put up privacy curtains at night. This helps keep the heat inside and the cold outside. But it blocks a puppy's view at night.

Help support a doggy and his mermaid, shop at Amazon with this link. We earn little commissions which help to pay for things like my birthday coat. I promise you big sloppy dog kisses all over your sweet face to show my gratitude.

Later

2012-01-13T18:26:00.001-05:00

Dear Miss Mermaid is just too sick to write today.

Puppy Prattle

2012-01-11T20:13:00.000-05:00

My pet parent bathed me, dried me, fluffed me, brushed me, groomed me, and even put pawfume spray on me. I smelled and looked terrific!

When she was all done, I shook myself silly until I got my fur just the way I like it.

I can see the TV just fine from here. Are we going to have paw-corn with the movie?

There's more than one way to lounge on the furniture. Just ask me.

I signed up for internet dating. Look who I met! Do you think we would make a cute couple?

I am going to ask her to meet me at the puppy park for a drink. I told her I'll be the little doggy wearing the red shirt with a green and orange vest. That should make it easy for her to find me.

Then I am going to shop for a gift for my date at Amazon's Pet Department. I was looking at toys, hats, dresses, collars and doggles.

I really like this hat. Do you think she will like it?

Well, that's enough from me today. I have to go now. I think I heard the Pavlov dinner bell.

I'm An Idiot

2012-01-10T05:11:00.000-05:00

Waste not want not. For the past three days, I have had a scoop of cranberry sauce with each and every meal. Breakfast, lunch and dinner.

See it was dark thirty when I woke up to make coffee. I need milk in my coffee because it is so strong, but the fridge was bare. In my sleepy state I rummaged around the pantry cabinet until I found a can of evaporated milk. How delightful! My coffee would taste wonderful. I poured a cup of java then opened up the can of milk with a church key. It was a gooey red! Ugh!

That woke me up for sure. Why is my milk gooey and red? A check of the can revealed I had opened up a dented can of cranberry sauce leftover from the holidays. Oh dear me. I tasted the coffee without milk. Ugh! Not ready for that either. I don't use those non-dairy creamers, I mean what's the point? I use milk because I want calcium and vitamin D and it cuts the sharp taste of the very strong coffee I tend to make. I once read the label of a non-dairy creamer. It appeared to be the ingredients for a dangerous science project, not something I wished to ingest. Finally I found the last can of evaporated milk. I read and reread the label then opened it up. Whew! Cafe au lait never tasted so good as it did that morning.

Sunset on the prairie is just awesome some days. That tiny bright white light is actually a car that is over a mile away.

So why am I showing you my old heap of a jeep car tag from the Virgin Islands?

Because recently, the car tag and I were reunited! My dear friend had been holding on to my old heap of a jeep car tags, claiming she was going to come visit me and deliver them in person. For two years, I have eagerly awaited her arrival. But alas, one day the car tags came in the mail, without my dear friend.

So, just for grins and giggles, I have stuck that tag on the front of my wheel estate. What fun! In the background is a bad moon arising. Remember the Creedence Clearwater Revival Song?

Full moons on Tortola in the Virgin islands were always celebrated at the Bomba Shack. Live bands played while we danced in the sand on the beach, drinking shroom tea and rum libations. That shroom tea sure makes the moon oh so colorful! Certain herbs could be smelled in the air. Folks were flirty and happy. I went to the full moon parties and danced away in the sand under the moon, most months, if I was off work that night.

I tried to capture the full moon in the picture above, rising in the sky at dusky o'clock. The weird T thing on my roof, is the built-in TV antenna that cranks up. I recently acquired a TV. I can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Oh my gosh, the propaganda they push in your face on TV is incredible. The commercials are overbearing, the news obsessive and overly sensational. I have to mute them, for fear they will brainwash me. Once the news comes on, I turn it off, or else I will get depressed like everyone else.

My favorite show is Judge Judy. She makes me laugh! When she tries to be dead serious, she comes off as hilarious. When she tries to be funny, the delivery is all wrong and she would be booed out of a comedy club.

Most of the time the TV is off (unless Judge Judy is on). I'm afraid if I watch TV very much, my brain will rot. But I need a good laugh everyday and Judge Judy unfailingly delivers that six days a week in this locale. Weather permitting.

I once saw her yacht in the Virgin Islands. All her crew members were young and nice looking. It was aptly named "Her Honor". You can charter the yacht for around $20,000 per day plus expenses. Keep in mind that includes the crew but not the 50 gallon an hour fuel costs. Of course some of that fuel is used for running the generators.

Some Judge Judy-isms:

Judge Judy: That must be the S.O.D.D.I. principle: "Some Other Dude Done It."

Judge Judy: Sir, the table didn't have three beers and then get up and move!

Judge Judy: Who are you?
Witness: I'm here for pain and suffering.
Judge Judy: Yours or mine?

Judge Judy: Don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining. (Judge Judy has a book out titled the same.)

Judge Judy: Do you come from a long line of idiots?

Judge Judy: Don't look up at the heavens. God is not going to help you with this case. Only the truth will set you free.

Judge Judy: The only attitude I tolerate around here is my own! You speak, then I rule, and after that you shut up. Do you understand?

Judge Judy: For what I'd like to say right now, I wish we were on cable... I'm not gonna waste another second on this case. Between the two of you, I doubt I could put together a three-digit IQ.

Judge Judy: Sir? Do you and your wife have children?
Defendant: No.
Judge Judy: Then don't! You're both idiots!

Eye Delights and Sick Jokes

2012-01-08T19:42:00.000-05:00

Unique architecture captures my interest. This exotic scene is actually the Islamic Center of greater Toledo Ohio.

Right after I bought my wheel estate, I had a relapse.I ended up parked for 3 months after only driving 10 miles. Day after day, I stared out the windows, pretending I was going somewhere. Incredibly, we had a record breaking snow fall in upstate South Carolina a few weeks later. I took this picture while hanging out my bedroom window because the snow flakes were so huge I wanted to capture them.

Bridges fascinate me. This is the one from Long Point Island to Scout Island, about 20 miles south of Melbourne at Long Point Park Campground in Florida.

I drove past the Ohio River Bridge and got lost. Then I realized I was supposed to be on the bridge. No idea why bridges intrigue me. Maybe because each engineer comes up with a unique design.

I was just sharing some of my fun stuff. I am a tad weak and exhausted. I need more caffeine in my coffee, more starch in my food. I want to grow old, I want to get well, I want to go see the Salton Sea.

WARNING...these are some sick jokes...

So far it's been ruled out that I don't have Afrophobia (a fear of 70's hair styles) nor do I have psedo-nymphomania (compulsive sex under an assumed name).

Luckily I don't have Herpes Cineplex (a rash caused by overpriced movie tickets) nor Oreoporosis (too many cookies, too little milk).

I might be suffering from Deja Flu (the feeling I've had this before) and Visacarditus (heart stopping sensation from opening the credit card bills).

They told me to stop dating my young lover. I said "Why? Luke is nice, young, very good looking, and makes me feel terrific!" The doctor said "Yeah, but we don't want you to have Acute Lukemia..."

In certain states, they plan to legalize marijuana and distribute it without charge, for the treatment of keratoma. It's going to be called "Keratoma Free Cannabis" or a KFC joint, for short.

Meow

2012-01-06T06:24:00.000-05:00

There is a biologist who makes a small fortune from our government studying woodpeckers. Oh the things I learn while workamping for the Wildlife Management. A person who studies birds is an ornithologist. A person who studies and accounts for the woodpecker population is a pecker checker.

Lately my sleep has been interrupted often, not sure what's up with that. I would love to be able to sleep 5-6 hours at a time, but my body has other ideas of merely cat-napping. Meow. Maybe I am really just a cat who thinks I am human. Isn't that how cats think?

Mermaid? Maybe not. I think I am really just a cat. Meow.

For lack of fur, I've learned to change clothes several times a day, in itself frustrating. In the mornings I am dressed for a blizzard, to ward off the winds and cold temps. By mid afternoon, I'm dressing for a cool summery day. It seems crazy to be wearing socks, boots, leggings, pants, sweaters, coats in the morning, then sandals and a sundress after lunch.

All this clothing-changing statically overcharges my hair some days . Recently, it was so charged up that it was slowly flying around my head like I was possessed by the devil. Even worse, I hate those little static shocks when I ground onto something. They make me yelp so loud, the dog was giving me startled looks. You know... the kind that silently says "You're one crazy cat!"

Meow.

Right when I figured out how to stay warm on just portable electric heat in my little old motorhome, the temps decided to go up. After a few 29F nights, we've been suddenly treated to a toasty 39F this morning. Daytime temps are slowly climbing back up from the 50's to the 70's. Thank goodness, because I really don't like being cooped up inside like a hibernating cave dweller. I've had a really hard time dealing with the outside frigid temps. I need to grow some thick winter fur for sure. Meow.

I mentioned before that I wear men's house slippers because my feet are short and wide with a high instep. Women's slippers tend to be so narrow, that I can't wear them without deforming my toes or foot or both. Awhile back I bought some men's slippers heavily discounted, so that when winter rolled around, my feet would be warm. I am so grateful to have these nice warm slippers, even if they are a tad masculine.

The first cold night, I dug out my screaming red super soft long sleep shirt to wear. Sadly, it has several holes in it. Is something eating my clothes or is it just old? You would be surprised how much cold air can sneak inside the holes. Brrr! Where do these holy clothes come from? Now that I think about it, this sleep shirt is at least 10+ years old. I used to wear it when I lived in the Caribbean on those nights when temperatures plummeted below 70F, making me shiver and shake. I guess things eventually wear out, being better suited for the garbage than the closet.

The next night I dug out my other night shirt. It used to be a bold purple, but now it's so faded, it only hints at pale lavender. It's become so threadbare as to be almost useless. I dare day you can see right through it. Even worse, it has stains on the front. It looks like I prefer eating only half my breakfast and wearing the other half.

Early one morning, while my shades were still drawn to keep out the frigid cold, someone stopped by, knocking on my door. The mail box is just over a half mile away. Eight of us share the box. So whoever, empties the box, gets to re-deliver the mail to the other recipients. They do things differently, out here in the boonies.

So I was startled, to hear the knocking and be caught in my unsightly threadbare night shirt. I needed my prescription glasses to peek out the window to see who was there. I didn't see my regular eyeglasses, but since my sunglasses are prescription and they were on the counter, I popped them on to look outside. Seeing it was the mail, I hollered "Be right there!" Then I grabbed the first thing at hand, which was a long trench coat. Two winters ago, on a very cold day, I bought a used olive green unisex double breasted trench coat from Goodwill. It drapes just below my knees and is oh so warm on a c-c-c-old day out. I bought this before I bought the jacket (I wrote about the other day.) The coat is too long to fit in my closet, so it lives on a hanger, on a decorative mermaid hook on the wall. I put on the trench coat, hastily buttoning it up, while answering the door. It completely hid the night shirt, perhaps looking like I was wearing nothing at all under the coat.

The caller gave me a very strange look, then handed over my mail. I thanked them profusely while they continued to stare at me, jaw agape.

I guess, now that I think back on it, maybe I did look just a tad unusual, standing there answering my door, wearing men's bedroom slippers, dressed in a long olive trench coat, donning dark sunglasses, with my lengthy static-charged hair slowly flying oddly above and around my head like Madusa.

It reminded me that I think somewhere at some time, I saw a Pink Panther cartoon with the big tall pink cat dressed the same way, imitaiting the little man that usually chases him around in a trench coat (only he didn't have long hair flitting about his head.)

Maybe I am really a cat. A very strange eccentric cat.

Meow.

My beloved cat.
I miss him every day.
I so wish he would be FOUND.
I foolishly lost him when I flew to America in late 2009.
See Lost Lil Bear Cat

And The Rest Of It Followed

2012-01-04T20:48:00.001-05:00

"Airport officials said the nose of the aircraft went off the taxiway, and the rest of the plane followed it into the grass. " Quote from: Plane carrying 150 passengers skids off icy runway and gets stuck in grass (By the way, no one was injured, just inconvenienced and the plane was fine.)

Does this quote strike anyone else besides me as hilarious? No need to drug test those pilots, what kind of grass were those airport officials smoking?

Imagine trying to explain how your car knocked down a utility pole:
"Well officer, the nose of the car hit the pole and the rest of the car followed it..."

Or how about the time I tripped and fell forward while walking down a sloped driveway a few years back... "My nose hit the ground and the rest of my body followed..."

One time I watched a boat trying to dock, but he came in so fast, he crashed into the dock. "The bow of the boat crashed through the dock and the rest of the boat followed it..."

So what started this hilarity? Well, I was about to tuck myself into bed tonight, when suddenly a great big jet(?) flew just above the tree tops. Needless to say, it was incredibly loud. I opened up my window and screen, then stuck my head outside the RV, to see WHAT was going on. Seeing as I am 30 miles out in the wilderness, I was expecting a UFO but it appeared to be a large jet coming in for a nearby landing.

I've only been here 2-3 months, but I've not ever heard a plane around here at all. However, I have seen a helicopter fly over here once.

I went on the internet to see what airports were south of me that could accommodate a jet that big.

Turns out Florida has loads of airports, air strips and air parks. According to google's map, by golly, there is an air park south of here. Maybe someone chartered a jet to go to their manse there.

Somehow I ended up on the above news article when google misunderstood what I was searching for. I read and reread that quote;

"Airport officials said the nose of the aircraft went off the taxiway, and the rest of the plane followed it into the grass. "

So, I could easily describe the jet that passed overhead: The nose of a jet flew by close overhead... and the rest of the plane followed it... Tee hee hee...

I'm going to bed, it's already c-c-cold here, supposed to get down to 30 effing degrees tonight.

Oops, I meant 30F degrees. (Me bad!)

Night night!

I am taking my nose to bed... hopefully the rest of me will follow it.

A Good Friend

2012-01-03T15:40:00.000-05:00

Sunset last night immediately pushed the temperature downwards.

I bet the northerners are laughing themselves silly at how cold I get so easily. It did get to 34F that I saw last night, not the late 20's we were told by the weather folks. I just want to slide under the bed covers, staying there until winter is over.

Yesterday I wrote that.

Today at 4am, it is down to 29F degrees outside and 64F inside my RV despite the fact that both my electric heaters have been running nonstop all night on high. In Florida. *sigh*. So by 6am, it may be much colder. I am up writing, because I am restless. I got up to check to see if the water was still running, to make sure the electric heater was working and to put on more clothes. I even turned on the propane furnace to take the chill off. Mostly I rely on an electric 1500 watt cylindrical ceramic heater. Thanks goodness I have an electric bed warmer, or I would have never been able to sleep as long as I did. Even Harley is wearing a sweater over his doggy T-shirt, plus curled up tightly in a ball under an afghan on the bed. When I took off his filthy sweater last night, he gave me a sad look. Then I pulled out a nice clean sweater, popped that over his head, pulled his front paws through the armholes, tugging the sweater down his belly. This apparently made him instantly happy again. He treated me to doggy kisses. Yuck! Doggy germs!

Every window shade is pulled down as far as it will go, to helps keep the cold out. I miss looking out the windows, even at night. The tiny personal 200 watt ceramic heater is in the bathroom helping to keep it toasty in there. I ordered a second one yesterday, because they are so tiny, draw very little power and uber useful. I was using mine to keep my feet warm under the desk. It was originally designed for cubicle workers with cold feet. But then I discovered how nice it works in my compact RV bathroom. I've also used it to defrost the freezer in record time. It's only 3.8 x 4.3 x 6.1 inches. The 200 watt rating means it won't trip your circuit breaker.

A lazy way to defrost the freezer in record time...

The Lasko personal heater comes with a long heavy duty cord.

Here, I have wrapped a bungee cord around it,

then attached a carabiner to it and the cabinet latch above.

My freezer was so thick with frost, I could no longer insert the ice trays.

By the time I found a camera to take a picture, it was time to mop out the freezer, it had defrosted so quickly with the aid of the 200 watt heater.

Yesterday, I bundled up Harley and myself to go for a doggy walk. I ran into other workampers who wanted to stand around and chat. I coaxed one into walking with me, as I can't stand around in frigid temperatures. I need to walk or I'll pass out.

On our brisk stroll we found leftovers of an expired hog, who was long ago dead. Harley wanted to rub that stinky scent all over his nice warm doggy sweater. Then the other doggy came out to play. He and Harley had a fun good time wrestling, chasing, play-biting and trying to find the quickest way to get Harley and his sweater filthy dirty in as short a time as possible.

Harley had a rowdy good time. Some of his winter sweaters show puppy wear and tear from enthusiastic play time. The colder it gets, the more Harley wants to run and wrestle with the other dog.

The winds kicked up to 35+ miles per hour with higher gusts. I could have sailed across the prairie if I had a sail and a rudder on my wheel estate. Many things under my gazebo went flying. I had a heavy table fan out there, we were using to blow the flies away when they bothered us. Between uses, I tied a garbage bag over it, to protect it from the elements. It cartwheeled across the lawn like an errant newspaper caught up on the winds. I haven't looked inside the bag to see how many dents it has now.

It was time to go indoors. I was shivering despite wearing a long sweater dress over another dress, over thick leggings with socks, boots and a sturdy jacket. The jacket is so heavy, that when I was shopping for it at the Goodwill store 2 years ago, I was still pretty weak from my illness. I picked it up to try it on, and it seemed so heavy, I couldn't hold onto it long enough to try it on. I sadly put it back on the rack, still on the hanger. A few weeks later, I was feeling a bit stronger, the same jacket I liked was still in the Goodwill store, only now it was slightly reduced.

I felt like the world's strongest lady when I was able to pick it up, put it on and buy it. I must admit, in spite of Goodwill's high prices for used clothing, it was a very well made jacket that must have cost a fortune when new. It didn't even look used. Oddly enough, it's a unique European design, made in Germany. It has 5 pockets, with the two hand pockets well insulated. It looked just like a jacket my close friend from Germany used to wear. Actually he was an old lover, but when we stopped dating eons ago, we remained very close friends up until his sudden passing just before I moved back to America in late 2009. Matter of fact, a few years prior, when I had to urgently travel from the Caribbean to America, to attend my father's funeral, he dashed over to my hotel, to announce he would be escorting me to the funeral. Now that is a true friend indeed.

As I drove away from the store, it occurred to me that he used to live only a few blocks away at the time of his death. Was this his jacket? He always kept his clothes very well maintained and this jacket came with a dry cleaning tag on it. I will never know, but every time I wear it, I think of all the wonderful memories I have of my friend and the good times we had together.

World of Beauty

2012-01-02T21:15:00.002-05:00

Tonight is going to be the coldest night we've had so far this year. It's expected to get down to the late 20's. But we are only 2 days into the new year. Maybe it's the coldest this winter, so far.

I am moving to Florida. It's just too cold here. My mermaid blood just can't take this frigid weather. Bah humbug!

Oh wait. Let me check. Oops! I am in Florida. Central Florida. Out in no man's land. I do so love the beauty here. Today it was in the mid 70's. By 8pm it is already down to 50F and dropping.

I am shivering. The little ceramic heater is on full blast. I get up to check the thermometer and notice an open window. *Sigh* Maybe if I close the window, it will finally warm up inside. (Did my brain freeze up?)

Here are some candid photos I took and a map of the location I shot them in. Life is beautiful (but getting c-c-c-cold.)

My location on the palmetto prairie at Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area in Florida.

Characteristic plants are saw palmetto, beardgrass, gallberry, wiregrass, and carpetgrass.
Pine trees and cabbage-palms hammocks are widely scattered.

Sunrise resembles fire in the distance.
Low lying fog blurs the undergrowth.

My little puppy dog and I walk this road several times a day.
He likes to water the plants and fertilize them.

There is always something beautiful in bloom.

The western sunlight begins to fade beneath a canopy of clouds.

Looking Cool

2012-01-01T17:44:00.000-05:00

Fabulous Pictures...

I've found that I practically need to wear the camera 12/7 to capture fantastic pics. Once you miss an awesome photo op, it's gone forever. I need a camera like a miner's light; stuck to my forehead!

Pet Cam...

Sometimes I wish I could put a pet cam on Harley to see what he sees at his diminutive height. I think all he sees when it comes to people, is their shoes and shins. He loves people and wants to see their faces or plant a kiss on them or both. I've tried to discourage him from jumping on folks, something a puppy loves to do. He will often try to greet a person by standing on 2 legs with his front paws almost reaching their thigh. While this is cute, it's not cool.

Now when he has the urge to greet people by touching them with his front paws, I often just snatch him up, holding him upright in my arm, so that his eyesight is about level with ours. This enables him to see the faces of the folks he wants to flirt and lavish his love upon.

Harley plays king of the mountain with my bed pillows.
He is wearing his new birthday coat.
We came back from a walk.
When I tried to remove his coat, he ran for his pillow mountain, so I left it on him.
Silly dog!

Ut Oh...

I thought by moving to America I was forever escaping frequent random power outages. But here in the middle of nowhere, we have power hiccups. For some strange reason, a power hiccup can shut down my heater. This happened recently while I was sleeping. Outside temps were plummeting to the very low 40's. My particular motorhome was built for occasional vacationing, not for year round living. Just the same, I am living in it year round. It is insulated, but not very well. So it loses heat quickly. I woke up shivering, cold and having health problems that plague me when I am plunged into cold. I discovered the heater was on but off. Kind of like my brain... on but off...

So far our power hiccups have not exceeded 5 minutes, but it reminds me how wonderful that I am mostly self sufficient and prepared for longer power outages. But I wasn't prepared for a safety heater that doesn't come back on after a brief outage.

Now I have the propane furnace set up to come on as a backup. But I forgot to top up the propane when I was in Melbourne. It's always something!

Finally! Harley poses in his new winter doggy coat! This was his birthday gift. He was very cold so he has a sweater on underneath. He also has his collar turned up. He thinks it makes him look cool.

New Year Resolutions

2011-12-31T11:32:00.001-05:00

It's new year's eve. I so wish I were on the beach at Foxy's on Jost Van Dyke in the British Virgin Islands for Olde Year's Night. But I am on the prairie at Three Lakes Wildlife Management near Kenansville, Florida.

Yes, I am still very homesick for the Caribbean. But I've forged a new life in America the past two years.

It's warm today, so I feel very lucky and spoiled.

I am totally amazed at all the astonishing things I've done this past year. In 2011 I managed to travel around 4 states. Amazingly in 2010, I traveled in 17 states. I do have wanderlust under my feet, I so wish I could travel more. Sell more books, get the next book on the market. Make it happen...

I'm not going to discuss my health, but needless to say, I am absolutely thrilled I woke up alive, again today! Too many days were spent sick last year, and this year I want that to be zero.

For my new years resolutions, I want to be kinder, nicer and far more thankful.

I want to wake up alive every day. Not sure that counts as a resolution, but it's certainly my goal.

Out with the negative, in with the positive. Smile more.

Smiling, even when alone, makes one feel instantly better. So I try to grin like a fool most of my day. I don't get much done, but I feel great.

My list of resolutions could go on and on, but let's keep it simple and reasonable. Notice I am not committing to giving up any bad habits. I've decided to focus on the idea that I do have plenty of good habits I so wish to maintain. OK, maybe a few good habits instead of plenty... Maybe one day I will figure a way to rid myself of the bad habits and be perfect like those that think they are perfect and feel like it's their lot in life to point out my imperfections.

Last time someone tried to verbally beat me up over my bad habits. I asked them repeatedly to change the subject. I explained that I am not perfect. I doubt I ever will be. If they have managed to be perfect with no bad habits, then they are very lucky indeed but please stop berating me for not being perfect.

I am not sure I want to be perfect! It's so much more fun to be less than perfect. Then I don't feel so bad when I fail at things.

Recently I listened to an inspirational speaker on TV, (Joel Osteen)who was promoting the idea of ridding oneself of negative folks, to make room for more positive friends. He explained this in such a way, it really made sense. Not all people in our lives are meant to be there forever. It was something I had not realized before. Sometimes you have to let go. He said we were like a big building going up. Some people were the bricks, others were the scaffolding, just meant to be in our lives while we were under construction.

I so hate giving up any of my scaffolding.

Harley Gets A Brother From Another Mother

2011-12-30T11:30:00.002-05:00

Harley wasn't feeling well at all yesterday. He was c-c-cold, I was c-c-cold. When we went for a walk, we ran into his favorite puppy buddy who poked him. Harley grouched. His buddy playfully poked him again. This time Harley snarled at him.

We laughed about it, then I picked up my little ornory muffin. He was shaking and shivering something awful despite wearing a sweater with his new birthday coat over it. I tucked him inside the warmth of my jacket. We went back to the wheel estate to thaw out.

Harley refused to let me take his coat off. Instead he laid up on his white doggy blanket. He was still vibrating like a palm frond in a hurricane, so I tossed my alpaca shawl over him. I snapped his picture just before he dozed right off.

Drive by shooting...

Ever wonder what an orange grove looks like at 60 miles per hour? Well, I shot this pic while zipping by in the wheel estate to Melbourne Florida.

Harley gets a brother from another mother...

This is Harley's latest love- his new little brother. I found him in a nearly new shop for 89 cents. Harley plays with him, romps with him, drags him around and generally annoys his little brother as much as possible. But clearly he is smitten. In this picture Harley is saying "Dude? What happened to your ear?"

Another drive by shooting... this one at 10 miles per hour.

Our big wide beautiful world offers up such glorious treats.

Sunset on the prairie resembles wildfire at Three Lakes Wildlife Management area near Kenansville, Florida.

Blueberry Explosion

2011-12-29T08:32:00.000-05:00

Blueberry Explosion

Well, I drove to the medical mess I have to attend to in Melbourne Florida. Fifty-three miles later, when I arrived, I was thirsty. I opened my refrigerator in my motorhome. Out sprang a pint of treasured blueberries which literally exploded, bouncing merrily across my floor and throw rugs, from one end of the wheel estate to the other.

I spent the next twenty-three minutes picking up one thousand nine hundred and eighty-two blueberries. I had no idea they could pack so many in a pint. Then I spent another eight minutes trying to wash all the debris off of them. For the price I paid for their health giving benefits, I surely couldn't waste them. (But it was fun to curse them!)

Doggy Collision

I am a very bad pet parent. Normally I have little Harley's pet bed attached to the seat belt. Harley is then tethered to a dog leash, which is attached to the seat belt. This is to prevent him from accidentally going through the windshield should we have an accident. He isn't interested in bouncing around the wheel estate when we are moving, so he doesn't mind this arrangement. But I was in a hurry, the seat belt jammed under the seat when I rotated it back to the forward position. (Many motorhomes like mine have a passenger seat that rotates 360 degrees so you can use it in the living room area too.) I didn't hook his bed to it. He is so used to sitting in the passenger seat, in his bed, while we ride, that I didn't attach his leash, which had fallen down into never-never land.

Shame on me. Tsk tsk tsk! I am a very bad pet parent. I feel horrible.

Another driver in the lane to the right of us, put on his right turn signal. Suddenly he jammed on the brakes while cutting to the left, directly in front of my bumper. I hit the brakes so hard to avoid the collision, that I came up out of my seat. I am sure I used up ten thousand miles of rubber. The driver then cut over again, to the next left lane, while his right turn signal was still on. From what I could tell, he just had a turn signal, no brake lights. I thought turn signals automatically turned off, especially if you were turning the opposite direction.

Poor little Harley, bed and all, went cartwheeling into the floorboard with a startled yelp. I felt so awful. Traffic was heavy, and not much I could do to help him but talk softly while my heart raced so heavy and fast, I thought it would leap right out of my chest. He didn't come crawling out at first. I couldn't see the passenger floorboard from where I sat to drive. Oh my gosh, did I just kill my puppy?

I managed to briefly compose myself long enough to change lanes to enter a parking lot just as little Harley appeared, looking very worried. I stopped, turned off the engine, then gave Harley loads of loving while consoling him. I am not sure who was more upset. Me or him.

Irate Camper

I went to Wickham Park in Melbourne Florida to check in for a night of camping. I needed to stay overnight, due to my medical mess, which has taken a, hmm, how to say it, I am not sure. But things are quickly becoming critical and I am in a mild state of shock. There are also problems with my workamping, having to do with my health, that I can't and won't go into now.

Living and loving each and every day is oh so important. I can't keep wasting time crying but it sure feels good to have a good long cry anyhow.

I was so lucky to eventually get a spot, because they were nearly booked solid. I had to wait a long time behind an irate man. When I had called a few weeks ago, to get a reservation I was told I needed to book 2 or more nights. This would interfere with my workamping which is already "up in the air" about my future here. So at the time, I didn't want to spend 2 nights away, if that was going to cause more problems. So I just had to show up and take my chances they could find a spot for me for one night.

Matter of fact, I am so glad I had a wonderful Christmas, because my life has quickly gone upset down, with devastating news that I am still trying to process through my tiny addled brain. I am not going to whine about it right now, besides I am still very confused! Nothing new there is there?

The irate man claimed the lot they gave him was too small, but he liked lot 81, but someone was already parked there, but plugged into lot 82. He wanted them to move the campers in 81 over to 82, so he could have 81. The clerk tried to explain that 81 only had one night open, and his reservation was for 10 days and she had a spot for him for 10 days. On and on he whined and fussed and complained and berated the hapless clerk.

He said lot 81 was huge and he had looked at 77 and deemed it too small. He went on and on about his reservation and that he had reserved some other lot number (I forget which) and they had switched him around. The clerk tried to explain that when they are busy and booked to capacity, they have to sometimes shuffle the lot numbers around. She explained they do not guarantee a specific lot number when you make a reservation but they try hard to honor the requests but it's not always a perfect world.

After about twenty minutes of patiently waiting and watching this grown man throw a temper tantrum, holding up the line, I was seriously daydreaming about giving him a swift kick in the shins, tell him to grow up, suck it up, and be damn happy he was alive and vacationing in Florida with his family, in his RV (which I looked out the window and suspect he paid well over a quarter million dollars for it.) He was also towing a car that probably cost some where over $35,000 too. Poor fellow. I could see his kids eating at a table inside his RV.

I was starving for a sandwich and worrying whether I would make my medical appointment on time or not. If I skipped the sandwich, would I be even grumpier? I realized I was about to drool, whatever the kids were eating, sure made me even hungrier. For good measure, my stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl. It seemed to be the first time the man had noticed that anyone else was waiting to pay rent for a camping spot.

This poor guy really had it tough, oh life was so rough on him. Now the clerk at the park had simply ruined his entire life. He wanted to make sure both she and I knew this. How sad. I debated about bursting into tears and telling the guy that I felt very, very sorry for him and his rotten lot in life.

As time wore on, I realized Harley and I would not be going to the dog park. I had this wild ridiculous dream, I was going to pay for my night at the campground, then go to the dog park 100 yards away, for 30 minutes while Harley played I would eat a sandwich, then we would drive to my medical mess. When we returned we would finally park at the campgound. If we got a spot. If this man ever got tired of his seemingly endless temper tantrum.

I seriously began daydreaming again, wondering what would they do, if I really did kick him in the shin and tell him to get over it? Would I be arrested for assaulting another camper? What would happen to Harley?

Then I took pity. That poor guy really had it ROUGH. I should get out my violin and play him a sad little tune.

Here is little old me with my petty little worries about living and dying and being organized when I do one or the other.

Finally the guy went outside to confer with his wife who was in the RV with the kids.

I put on my biggest goofiest smile, handed over my ID and money, then tried my best to be polite while I asked for a spot, ANY spot, 81 or 77, I didn't really care, they were all so lovely to me. I also asked if it would be a problem, if my lot sat empty while I went to the doctors, would it still be there when I came back. She assured me that once the lot was paid for, no one would steal it.

She gave me a parking permit with doublestick tape to put on my windshield, and I bolted out the door. I nearly collided with the man who was entering, loudly proclaiming he wanted a refund. Well, good riddance was all I could think. If he was psychic, he would have probably killed me by now, for all the awful things I was thinking.

Harley and I climbed up in my little old motorhome. We were parked next to his palace. We looked like a little toy camper next to his mega rig. I looked at the clock, there wasn't time for a sandwich nor a dog park. Just time to go battle traffic for my appointment.

Shame on me for not planning better. I forgot to plan for this stranger's temper tantrum.

When I returned hours later, dead tired, green to the gills, it was pouring down rain. At the doctor's office, they claimed I had lost 12 pounds in 2 weeks. I think this is preposterous. Funny math going on here!

I politely said I think they made a mistake weighing me. Come to think of it, two weeks ago, I was dressed for summer. Today I was dressed up in layers of clothes for the wintry 46F weather. I should weigh 12 pounds more, not 12 pounds less. Then the next lady to come around, looked at my chart and said I lost 12 pounds in 2 weeks. I laughed and told her it was a mistake. She looked at me like I was crazy.

The other day someone else said I had lost weight too, but I laughed at them and accused them of saying that just so I would smile and laugh. It's too cold for me to undress and check the mirror to see if I am missing 12 pounds, but I am sure they got that all wrong.

Sadly Harley and I had to drive by the empty dog park, while he frantically pawed at the window, whining for me to pull over and play in the park. I don't think he quite understood it was pouring down buckets of rain and not a soul was around.

We arrived at camping lot 81 after closely scrutinizing 77. It was empty and it was huge, you could have parked an 18 wheel oversized tractor trailer on 77, with room for 6 more cars and still have space left over for outdoor chairs, table and toys. WHAT was the guy whining about when he told the clerk that 77 was just too small for him?

At lot 81, sure enough, a tiny camper had parked on lot 81, but was plugged into lot 82. I guess the arrows on the utility post meant nothing to them. But much to my happiness, there was still plenty of room for me to park on 81 and plug up my umbilical cord. Sure I would have preferred to park lengthwise on the lot, but if I parked near the post for 81, I would have plenty of room anyhow. Besides it was still raining so hard, I wondered if I should worry about building an ark instead. No one appeared to be home in the tiny camper. Outside, they had a plethora of soggy wet outdoor camping gear.

Then I began to worry, was I on the wrong lot? Was I suppose to be on 81, 82 or on 77? Why couldn't I remember? I couldn't find my receipt. How did I lose it so quickly?

I called the office, then said "Someone is parked on 81, plugged into 82, and I am on 81 also, plugged into 81, but 77 is empty, and I can't find my receipt and am I on the right spot? She paused for a moment, then assured me I was supposed to be on 81. She also told me my receipt was folded up teeny tiny, then stapled to my parking permit which was taped to my windshield.

Ah ha!

Mystery solved.

She said she would send the park ranger out to see about the other camper on 81, and I said not to worry, I didn't really care, I was already soaking wet just from plugging up the electric cord.

About ten minutes later, a park ranger banged on my door. He explained that the folks sharing 81 with me were supposed to be on 82, but since they were all set up anyhow, and no one was at home, if it was OK with me, then they would just as soon leave them alone. He said he had already mentioned to them that next time they camped, they should pay closer attention to the arrows on the utility post that designate where your lot is. We had a good laugh over it, and I told him it didn't bother me to share the lot with them.

Later they came home, it was 4 people and one large dog staying in this tiny camper that looked to be about 18 feet long. When the rain stopped, I walked Harley, who stopped to play with their big dog. We chatted for a bit and they said they were sorry they had misunderstood and set up on the wrong lot. I told them it was OK. Life ain't perfect anyhow.

I wonder where that grumpy old RV-er in his palace went to camp? I was glad he took his bad vibes elsewhere.