Friday, July 30, 2010

Super Glue Mends Almost Everything

Here I am, super gluing my life back together.
 
My flip-plop blew out. The flip-plops were replaced with a pair of cheap plastic slip-on sandals. I was out walking the dog, Harley, when I tripped and nearly splattered my face across the road.
 
I looked to see what I had tripped on and my cheap pair of shoes had fallen apart. The rubber on the bottom had parted company with the plastic on top. Gee wiz, I had worn them less than a month. I paid at least $2-3 for them.  Does nothing last?
 
So I got out the Super Glue, and put them back together, then put clothes pins on them to hold them until the Super Glue super-dried. 
 
Next, I put the window shades back together. The motorhome is trimmed out in brass hardware and gold-tone finishes on some stuff. The window shades came with these horizontal gold tone pulls at the bottom.  The windows are about 4 feet wide, as are the shades. More Super glue on the pull strips, all four feet, with two to do, that makes eight feet of Super Glue. I popped them back on and they have stayed glued ever since.
 
The window in my bedroom has a metal frame on the side that is used to pull the window open, as well as to lock it when it is closed. One day I opened the window, and the piece of metal fell off and landed with a clang in the floor, on my naked toes.
 
I said something unprintable. I hopped around on one leg, amusing the dog, who danced along with me. After dousing my toes in cold water, the pain subsided.
 
More Super Glue was put on the metal strip, then that was put back on the glass and viola, the window works fine now.
 
The built-in coffee maker has a strip of plastic, about an inch wide, that is looped through the fragile glass carafe pot handle, then velcroed to the sides of the coffee maker. This is so you don't hear glass shattering as you drive down the road, if the coffee carafe should pop loose.
 
Well, the velcro was coming off the sides of the coffee maker. So I Super Glued that back on. So far it's holding.
 
My tall broom, was bought in haste at a discount store. Later I noticed it had no loop on the end to hang it on a hook. If I don't hang it up, then the broom bristles will fold over from the weight and the broom will become useless.
 
I found 2 plastic wire ties, the kind that is sturdy plastic and locks to itself.  I looped one into an upside down U, then looped another one around that, slightly bigger than the broom handle. I put Super Glue on it, then tightened it on the broom handle, so that the vertical upside down U shaped plastic wire tie, now created a loop for the broom handle. I can install a hook and hang it up now.
 
I keep looking around to see what else is falling apart that I can Super Glue back to life.
 
Maybe my broken heart.
 
I came across pictures of my three cats and found myself in a puddle of tears. While two are rehomed in the Caribbean, I don't know the fate of the third one that flew to the USA with me. I will always wonder and worry. He was my best-est buddy for 9 plus years. I feel like I betrayed him by losing him, so foolishly. 
 
Super Glue is great stuff, but it can't mend a broken heart.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Painted Cat

Painting.
 
My friends are painting their new room. They've been working hard, on converting their old garage to a new den. I would help, but they are perfectionists.  Their paint job looks terrific, nothing like the way I paint.
 
When I lived in my little apartment on Frenchmen's Cay in the British Virgin Islands, I had a house painter staying with me for months. I also had three cats and my neighbor across the hallway had one cat.
 
One day while I was working, the house painter, moved all my bedroom furniture to the center of the room. Then he began painting. It took awhile because he was doing this faux marble look on two of the walls.
 
I came home and he took a break. We were sitting out on the balcony enjoying the breeze and tall glasses of iced tea. I was pleased that my three cats were all nice and clean with no traces of paint on them. They were busy rubbing my legs, and loving up on me, as they often did, when I returned home from work. The house painter said they seemingly had no interest in the wet paint and had stayed out of the way.
 
The neighbor's cat was used to coming and going in my apartment, to test-taste our cat food and see what me or the cats were up to. He used the catwalk to access the balcony or the often open front door, to make his entrance. This afternoon, the front door was closed.
 
He wandered by us on the balcony and slipped inside the apartment through the always-open sliding doors. Since our cats had no problems with bothering the wet paint, we didn't pay him any attention. He wandered by the large dish of dry cat food, near the open sliding doors and helped himself to a brief snack.
 
A few seconds later we heard a loud crash!  We jumped up to head for the sound, which came from my bedroom. The painter had left a paint tray, sitting on top of the plastic-covered dresser, with a roller in the paint tray, while he took a break.
 
We nearly collided with  the neighbor's cat, who was making fast coral colored tracks as he raced around my bed, then on the bed, then out to the hallway, across the living room, out to the balcony and around the apartment building.
 
I looked at my bedroom and the uncovered bed which still had sheets on it.  The cat had not only left wet paw print paint tracks completely around the bed on the floor, but numerous paw prints across the bed sheets, which were barely a month old.
 
He had spilled the paint tray and the painter was rapidly mopping up the paint, plus chasing wet paw print tracks across the floor. I grabbed rags and began mopping up the painted paw prints throughout the living room and balcony.
 
Suddenly we heard a scream, followed by the neighbor's door banging open.  Apparently, the neighbor had previously removed her window screen, so her cat could come and go at will. I had been in her place before, to look at stuff on her computer, in her bedroom. She had several beautiful bedspreads.  Her bed was always neatly made up, probably 2 minutes after she exited it in the morning.
 
That afternoon, she was lounging on her bed,half-asleep,  watching TV, when suddenly, her cat, covered in coral colored paint, came racing through the window screen, his paws still dripping in paint, as he raced across her bed, leaving a huge mess, hence the sudden scream.
 
She caught her cat eventually, and tried her best to clean the paint off of him with soap and water. We all know how much cats love baths...  
 
For the uninformed, cats do not like baths one bit. I remember afterwards, her cat sitting out back in the garden, looking plenty mad, as he tried to put his fur right again, after a sudsy bath with Joy soap. The owner had done her best to scrub up her black and white cat. However, for well over a week, he still had pinky looking fur and toes. That paint just wouldn't come completely out of his white fur.
 
She was a tad mad at us, because we had not warned her that her painted cat was on the loose.  I tried to explain, that everything had happened so fast and we never expected  her cat to leap up on the dresser, landing squarely in the middle of the paint tray, which was probably nearly an inch deep in paint. My dresser, bed sheets, and floor were covered in probably 1,000 paw prints. It clearly had been no picnic for us either. We were by now laughing about the mess, while my own three cats carefully stay outside, not wanting to be any part of this scene.
 
It took two of us more than an hour, to clean up the huge mess.  As the paint job continued, the next day, whenever her cat came to visit, we would hiss at him, and chase him back out the door. I swear my cats would trot by with their head held high, because they never once messed with the paint or even brushed up against a wet wall.
 
Out back in the garden, they would give her cat strange looks and sniff his coral colored fur or paws, then strut off with their head held high, as if to say "We know better than to play with wet paint!"
 
 

Painted Cat

Painting.
 
My friends are painting their new room. They've been working hard, on converting their old garage to a new den. I would help, but they are perfectionists.  Their paint job looks terrific, nothing like the way I paint.
 
When I lived in my little apartment on Frenchmen's Cay in the British Virgin Islands, I had a house painter staying with me for months. I also had three cats and my neighbor across the hallway had one cat.
 
One day while I was working, the house painter, moved all my bedroom furniture to the center of the room. Then he began painting. It took awhile because he was doing this faux marble look on two of the walls.
 
I came home and he took a break. We were sitting out on the balcony enjoying the breeze and tall glasses of iced tea. I was pleased that my three cats were all nice and clean with no traces of paint on them. They were busy rubbing my legs, and loving up on me, as they often did, when I returned home from work. The house painter said they seemingly had no interest in the wet paint and had stayed out of the way.
 
The neighbor's cat was used to coming and going in my apartment, to test-taste our cat food and see what me or the cats were up to. He used the catwalk to access the balcony or the often open front door, to make his entrance. This afternoon, the front door was closed.
 
He wandered by us on the balcony and slipped inside the apartment through the always-open sliding doors. Since our cats had no problems with bothering the wet paint, we didn't pay him any attention. He wandered by the large dish of dry cat food, near the open sliding doors and helped himself to a brief snack.
 
A few seconds later we heard a loud crash!  We jumped up to head for the sound, which came from my bedroom. The painter had left a paint tray, sitting on top of the plastic-covered dresser, with a roller in the paint tray, while he took a break.
 
We nearly collided with  the neighbor's cat, who was making fast coral colored tracks as he raced around my bed, then on the bed, then out to the hallway, across the living room, out to the balcony and around the apartment building.
 
I looked at my bedroom and the uncovered bed which still had sheets on it.  The cat had not only left wet paw print paint tracks completely around the bed on the floor, but numerous paw prints across the bed sheets, which were barely a month old.
 
He had spilled the paint tray and the painter was rapidly mopping up the paint, plus chasing wet paw print tracks across the floor. I grabbed rags and began mopping up the painted paw prints throughout the living room and balcony.
 
Suddenly we heard a scream, followed by the neighbor's door banging open.  Apparently, the neighbor had previously removed her window screen, so her cat could come and go at will. I had been in her place before, to look at stuff on her computer, in her bedroom. She had several beautiful bedspreads.  Her bed was always neatly made up, probably 2 minutes after she exited it in the morning.
 
That afternoon, she was lounging on her bed,half-asleep,  watching TV, when suddenly, her cat, covered in coral colored paint, came racing through the window screen, his paws still dripping in paint, as he raced across her bed, leaving a huge mess, hence the sudden scream.
 
She caught her cat eventually, and tried her best to clean the paint off of him with soap and water. We all know how much cats love baths...  
 
For the uninformed, cats do not like baths one bit. I remember afterwards, her cat sitting out back in the garden, looking plenty mad, as he tried to put his fur right again, after a sudsy bath with Joy soap. The owner had done her best to scrub up her black and white cat. However, for well over a week, he still had pinky looking fur and toes. That paint just wouldn't come completely out of his white fur.
 
She was a tad mad at us, because we had not warned her that her painted cat was on the loose.  I tried to explain, that everything had happened so fast and we never expected  her cat to leap up on the dresser, landing squarely in the middle of the paint tray, which was probably nearly an inch deep in paint. My dresser, bed sheets, and floor were covered in probably 1,000 paw prints. It clearly had been no picnic for us either. We were by now laughing about the mess, while my own three cats carefully stay outside, not wanting to be any part of this scene.
 
It took two of us more than an hour, to clean up the huge mess.  As the paint job continued, the next day, whenever her cat came to visit, we would hiss at him, and chase him back out the door. I swear my cats would trot by with their head held high, because they never once messed with the paint or even brushed up against a wet wall.
 
Out back in the garden, they would give her cat strange looks and sniff his coral colored fur or paws, then strut off with their head held high, as if to say "We know better than to play with wet paint!"
 
 

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Failed to Acquire a Connection

Greetings!

Little Harley is looking much healthier now!  Of course photographing a brownish puppy on a brown rug, doesn't contrast well, but it was one of the RARE times he was still long enough for me to snap a picture.  Usually when I get the camera out, he thinks that means he should leap up and dance until I put the camera away.

"You have failed to acquire a network connection..."




I haven't failed to acquire a network connection, AT&T has failed. Why are they blaming me?



That was the message on my laptop screen. I don't know why they call them laptops. I must be one of the rare people that can NOT work on a laptop computer on my laptop. Notebook seems even sillier, it's not a notebook, it's a computer. My computer is my electronic assistant.



Lawdy mercy, I need all the assistance I can get. My head is in and out, I thought this brain injury would heal rather quickly. Instead I am treated to all sorts of madness and confusion at times.



Small wonder I stay lost, get lost and generally wander aimlessly at times, settling for whatever pops up.



One of the farm cats that I am cat-sitting decided to come visit in the motorhome. This drove Harley, the puppy, nuts, as he was tethered, so when he dashed inside, dragging his noisy tether (it has a new metal swivel added to it and that makes it noisy when he drags it in the motorhome, to wrap around the chair pedestal, then the table leg and tangle up as much as he can in under 10 seconds), I unhooked him so he could inspect the cat. The cat is wholly unafraid of him. He outweighs him by 7-8 pounds and has studied him in the yard all last week.



They finally bumped noses and sniffed each other. Harley calmed right down. Now he is begging me for a REAL cat, not just the stuffed one he plays with and often takes his naps with. I'd love to have a cat but I can't. I am eating beans from the crockpot to get by until more books sell, more subscriptions come in.



Cats don't like beans.



I am trying to figure out how to do a book tour on deficit funding. Might as well say no funding. But I keep plunking away, chipping away, trying to figure it all out.



Finally got my internet working occasionally in the farm field. It is super slow. It's an AT&T USB wireless that is supposed to work over the cell phone towers. It works randomly and not very often. Typically I have to get up at 4am to use it for about an hour before it craps out completely. It is slower than dial-up.



I have had chronic problems from AT&T, their stuff works really well in the big cities, but lousy anywhere else it seems. Where ever I am, they tell me I am on the edge of their towers. How can I always be on the edge? I have a huge dislike for many big corporations. So much has changed in America since I left. It seems the small businesses are stomped right out into the minority and big corporations dominate almost everywhere.



Several times the AT&T personnel have told me to go to McDonalds or Starbucks, if I want internet. Well duh... does AT&T own McDonalds and Starbucks now? Why are their employees pushing me to go there? I don't like the McDonald's food, it's full of sugars and chemicals and super high in fat. I can make my own coffee at home, so going to Starbucks to pay for designer coffee is not in my budget. Besides, neither place is going to welcome me in my sarong and flip plops with a puppy in tow.  They especially wouldn't like it either, when I show up with my tall glass of Green Iced Tea. 



I am appalled at how American freedoms have seriously eroded. I am shocked that folks are expected to submit to urine tests and blood tests to get a minimum wage job. Whatever happened to personal freedom and control over one's own body? Seems the government wants to know what's in your body. Are they looking in your closets next?



Apparently, if they even THINK you MIGHT be a terrorist, you have NO freedoms at all and they can seize your assets and lock you up indefinitely. Sounds like a great way to get rid of anybody they don't like, just write them up as a suspected terrorist and POOF, you vanish off the face of the earth into oblivion.



I saw a documentary where suspected terrorists are moved around with their eyes covered and their ears soundproofed. They are deprived of sight and sound.Ya think that could make you crazy? You bet!



I see a friend being literally killed by the new medical system. He has great insurance, but non-doctors in ivory towers, (corporate execs for the insurance company) dictate what medical care he gets and doesn't get. his own doctor doesn't decide, the insurance company execs decide for him. One thing is for sure, they keep him on mountains, and I mean mountains, because I saw them first hand, of drugs. I don't think they won't to cure him. I think they just want to spend the max on his insurance and use him as a human testing subject while they push all sorts of dangerous drugs on him. I've watched his health seriously decline. It seems they aren't interested in getting him well at all, but rather making him an "approved" drug addict.



But heaven forbid, if he smoked or ingested some of God's little green herb, AKA, marijuana, to relieve his pain, to calm his stomach, to enhance his mood, he would lose his job, his insurance and if busted, possibly all his meager assets. All this hoopla over an herb that grows in the ground, that is unadulterated.

Here we were parked in Delaware State Park in Ohio. We had so much shade, I couldn't tell what the sun was doing. I had to back in and set up three times. The first time the clerk told me to go pick out a camping spot.  I gave her my charge card, so I thought she charged my camping fee. I also bought some milk. She asked me if I had been there before and I said "No".  She didn't volunteer any information, so I thought it was just a poll she was doing. Once I was settled, I called her up with the site number. She told me to come back to the office for the paperwork. So I had to unhook the electric, put things away and drive back to the office, as it was 2-3 miles away.  Got the paperworks and went back and set up again. Now I couldn't find the water connection and I had no water in my tanks. So I called the office. She told me I had to come BACK to the office and get water from the only spigot there. So I busted up camp, left to go get water, came back, backed in, set up the electric, put out the steps, began making dinner.  The phone rang. I had to come back to the office. She had forgetten to return my credit card. Poor Little Harley, was enjoying his outdoor time, and didn't understand why I kept loading him back up for these trips to the office.


I thought in my two decade absence, America would have MORE freedoms, not less.



I'm not a big city person. I put up with them, as a necessary evil, but anytime I can be close to nature and far away from the concrete, asphalt and steel, I am happiest. But I become easily irritated when I go to buy a simple cheap item, and the cashier starts demanding my phone number, my email, my address. I tell them I don't have a phone or email or an address and this upsets them terribly. My every move is being documented in America by computers. I hate it. The information gathered isn't used to help me, but used against me it seems.



Even at the pet store, I was buying a cheap little toy for Harley and the clerk demanded all my personal details. I said "My gosh, I just want to buy a cheap little pet toy not take out a mortgage!" I shoved the toy back at her, and started to walk away. She relented and sold me the toy without my personal information.



My USA Social Security card clearly states, "Not to be used as Identification". Then WHY does everyone demand to know my social security number?



This country gone crazy. It's not set up for mermaids, for a child of the planet. I don't fit in.



I refuse to bend to the mold that is set before me. Conform, conform, conform. The politicians want us all to conform to one generic being, so they can control us all, while heavily lining their pockets with kickbacks and bribes. Have you EVER met a poor politician? No, of course not and you never will. Most every politician seems to accumulate great wealth while politicking. Well, so much for my take on things. I may hear a lot of grief about my views!



It stormed last night. The lightning frightens me, I've been hit 3 times and that's enough for a lifetime. So, I am pretty jumpy around lightning storms now, they no longer thrill me.



I once saw a guy on the Johnny Carson Late Show that had been hit by lightning 7 times. He had a burned out hat and some shoes with holes blown in them. He has lost all his toenails and fingernails in one of his seven hits. He was a jolly fellow, figuring he had a special purpose on earth.



Recently someone told me that I was super special, which caused me to blush repeatedly. He said I was meant to do something VERY special and great in my life, and that's why I had so many near misses with death. I was being saved to do this big great thing. I felt so humbled. What could I do, that would be so great?



About those lightning hits...



The first lightning hit, knocked me out and damaged my ear. I was no longer able to SCUBA dive after that. A real shame. Those underwater adventures were fun. Years later, the hearing came back to almost normal.



The second lightning hit blew my little toenails completely off. I had to wear Band-Aids on them for weeks, while new nails grew in. My littlest toes grow two nails, side by side now, but if I let one nail grow super long, it crowds out the other one.



Being a mermaid is best of all. Then you don't have feet, toes and toenails, just a long floppy tail to deal with and it makes for much faster swimming.



The third hit didn't do any body damage,just made me half crazy *giggle*. My long hair stood up on end as did the little blond baby hairs on my arms. I was staying in a cabin in the mountains near the South Carolina and North Carolina border. Hurricane Danny had managed to come inland and dump flooding rains on me in the mountains. I had a phone installed and the lightning knocked it out while raising up all my hair! The repairman had to string up all new lines for nearly a mile and replace the pole.



It was ironic, as it was the year before or after Hurricane Luis and Marilyn kicked in a double punch. I wanted a few months without hurricanes. Ha! Hurricane Danny seemingly followed me north and inland. I remember the new "river" running by the front steps of the cabin.



Last night, before the thunder and lightning started, I gave little Harley, the puppy dog a nice warm bath. He was really good about it, but I can tell, he is eager for bath time to be over. It's the toweling dry he just LOVES.



I wrapped him a big towel and fluffed him up, then put him on his tether outside. He shook himself repeatedly until all his fur was standing out at odd angles. Then he rolled in the grass over and over. next he dragged himself on his belly with his back legs flopped behind him, turtle style. He looked ridiculous, but moved so fast the only pictures I got were just blurs of fur.



He looks so much healthier now. He has gained a tiny bit of weight and grown twice the fur. I just checked the calendar and realize Harley and I have been together exactly 8 weeks. Two months.



We sure have put some miles under our paws. Now we are chilling out on a farm.



Where to next? I have no idea. Let me pull out the new Atlas and figure out where the heck I am first. I hope I get lost and end up in Coolville again. I loved that place.



I think my old computer ate two weeks worth of traveling pictures, a real shame too. *sigh*



I was taking pictures of everywhere I parked overnight for future reference. I also took loads of scenery and architecture.
 
Oh well. Sail La V! *tee hee hee*


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Monday, July 26, 2010

AT&T Finally let me post Pictures, Yippee!

Greetings!

A fanciful sign found while I was out hiking in Coolville Ohio. 


I feel like I am being watched on this hike.



This Swan got his feathers in a big ruffle. His family was crossing the dam, to get to another lake. This car pulled up way too close, rather than hang back and let the family go by in peace. So this swan ruffled his feathers to make himslef look really big and he stood in the road, quite defiantly, while his family waddled across.  He glared at the driver for some few minutes, then slowly made his way across. I was just so grateful the driver didn't run them all down, he was in such a big hurry.  On a dead end road.





Ohio Sunrise over the Christmas trees.

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Getting Used To America




I hear nature talking to me. She says more trees, less asphalt.


Sure is hard getting used to America. 
I have the Caribbean ways so ingrained in me from 22 years there and only a few token visits here, mostly for funerals, so not enough time nor energy to pay attention to American ways.


Shopping still fascinates me even though I haven't much of anything to really shop for. I just enjoy looking at the huge selections and comparing prices. But in the Caribbean, shopping was so limited and none of the stores took returns, and often you couldn't find anything close to what you were looking for, so purchases were made with a bit of agony.  

You were stuck with it, if you bought it and it broke right away.
In America, you can try things out and return them if they break in a few days, or even if you don't like it.  WOW!  What a concept.

I still act super miserly with water yet most everywhere I go there is plenty of water. It's that Caribbean thing, where water is gold and super precious.
Sometimes I am in and out of my shower in 20 seconds, just can't get used to a long shower yet, it seems so wasteful.

I still filter all my drinking water, no matter what people tell me about how wonderful and safe their water is. After 22 years of filtering water in Brita pitchers, I can't stop now. It seems to always taste better and I refill my water bottles, so I always have bottled water.
I take a water bottle with me everywhere, another Caribbean habit I can't shake. Water is so good for the health, so many diseases are really brought on from long term dehydration.  In the Caribbean, I was often worried about being stuck somewhere walking and wishing I had water. I can't seem to bring myself to pay the outrageous prices for a small bottle of water. I still carry mine in my purse, so if I am thirsty, I can drink and not have to pay for the privilege.

The grocery shopping in America is depressing in some ways. The stores are mega-huge. So much JUNK is for sale, the junky foods take up 80% of the store it seems, and about 20% is healthy foods. It is so hard to find 100% juice, so many have added all this crap to the juice.  It seems everything has fructose or corn syrup or sugar or sweeteners added to it. Very frustrating. All those additives just contribute to long-term bad health. I know I don't eat enough fruit, so I look for 100% juice to supplement that.

It seems many folks in America are super concerned with health insurance and not at all concerned with good nutrition.  Finding healthy restaurants to dine out is near impossible in many areas.  I cook for myself most of the time. Depressing to cook for one, but better than eating junky foods laden with chemicals and sugars of some form or another. 

Typically I go ahead and cook for 2-3-4 at a time and save the leftovers for reheating.
The bars in America thus far are completely boring, so I stay out of them. In the Caribbean we had nice open air bars with fantastic views, here the bars seem to be dark windowless places with people hunched over their drinks, looking depressed as all get out.

I rarely drink anymore. OK, now don't pass right out!  Me who wrote so much about bars and drinkers in the Caribbean!  Alcohol is kind of pricey in America, I hope the Caribbean keeps it cheap.

I hear people whine about the cost of gas, then use their car to drive 100 yards rather than walk.

In Virginia, I was in an RV Resort. There was nothing resorty about it at all. Except the prices. I thought they were high, but then again, so often, the million dollar RV's are charged the same as the little old small RV's. Anyhow, at this "resort" which the only amenity was showers and a laundry, which is pretty standard for even the most rustic campgrounds, I noticed my neighbors had a travel trailer and a car.

All the lots had sewer, electric, water and random Wi-Fi internet. Anyhow, this couple was parked less than 100 yards from the showers. Yet, first the man would leave, in the car, drive the 200 feet or so to the showers, be gone a half hour, then drive back.
Next his wife, would get in the car, drive the 200 feet or so to the showers, be gone a half hour, then drive back. They saw the manager enter the office, also next to the showers, so they got in their car, drove over to the office, paid their nightly rent and drove back.

I am super surprised at how many folks in their RV's never open the window shades or even venture outside except to hook up the utilities. Some pull in and park, run outside hook everything up, then dash back inside and stay hidden away behind closed shades 24/7, never to be seen again.

I open all my shades and as often as possible, throw open all the windows and enjoy fresh air.

A friend of mine keeps harping on the fact I don't tow a vehicle with me. I wanted to travel and since I am traveling alone, I wanted to keep it simple and fun. If I had kept my old hunk of a clunker to tow behind, I probably wouldn't have made 90% of my travels.
But it's America, and one is expected to burn up gas each and every day, the more the merrier it seems. Sure everyone wants to blame BP for the oil mess in the Gulf. But it seems most of America is in their cars from the looks of the chronic traffic snarls I hit when I am driving. So many big pricey gas guzzling cars that seat 8 and have one person in them. No wonder traffic is backed up everywhere at times.

I am probably overstocked in hurricane foods.  An old habit I can't seem to break of keeping canned stuff around even though I mostly just eat fresh veggies and fruits on a daily basis. I keep FORGETTING there is food everywhere in America. Just don't shop at the so called convenient stores. There isn't much healthy stuff in there, it's mostly all junky foods high in chemicals and sugars.

But I guess if everyone started eating healthy, the health insurance companies would go broke, as would the drug companies. I try to avoid TV commercials. I gave away my TV, it was too big, a clunky type one and there was nowhere I wanted to designate that much space for it. I think the commercials are brain washing. So many are about drugs!
Many drugs are designed now to force your dependence on them. I am trying to avoid drugs and the entire health care mess.

Well, so much for rambling. I was going to work on an article about all the campgrounds and resorts *giggle* I have stayed in. Mostly I prefer the older back to nature places.   I also look for the bargains, they are hard to find, but if you stay off the beaten path, you can find them.

I found a lovely spot, because a clerk was super rude to me when I went to pay a few more night's camping fee. I changed my mind, didn't pay that campground, packed up my motorhome and found another park, 25 miles away, that turned out to be super delightful.
And half the price. 

The clerk there was new, but very friendly.  When she found out I was traveling alone with a hyper puppy, she sent the maintenance guy out to check on me, and offer his services to help me back-in and hook everything up.  Very thoughtful.  Most places just give you a numbered lot to go find on your own. 

I'm glad that clerk was super rude to me. I ended up in a much nicer place because of her.  I bet the owners of the place wouldn't be happy that her rudeness drove me away, and maybe others.   I just HATE giving up money to rude people. What's even funnier, is that I was going to pay for two night's rent there and I bet my two night's rent came close to her day's pay. So bye bye paycheck, I drove my money away. Literally.

I don't know why I freak out when people are rude to me, but I do. One day I was in a grocery store, unloading my items onto the conveyor belt thing at the cash register. There were now only 2 people in front of me, working on buying their stuff.  I was achy all over and looking forward to finally getting out of this store. The few registers that were open were very backed up with dozens of people waiting to spend their money. 

When my turn came, I opened my mouth and said "Good afternoon" like we do in the islands. The clerk slammed down a closed sign on the conveyor belt and barked at me "Go to another aisle!  I'm on break!" and she sauntered off to go talk on her cell phone. 
The other aisles had long lines. I looked at my groceries and remembered, this is America, food is everywhere. So I just left the store.  Left all my stuff piled up on the conveyor belt. A total waste of time, shopping, waiting in line, and the clerk watching me unload everything before telling me she was leaving.

It was equally rude of me to leave all my groceries just piled up there. But I was tired and achy and freaked out at the clerk's rudeness. Let her deal with the pile of groceries. She's getting paid to be rude. I'm just a lowly unpaid shopper. Just as I was about to exit, she paused from her cell phone and barked at me again. "Come get these groceries and move them!"  I just kept on walking.

Let her call the police and have me arrested. I plead insanity!  The rude clerk made me crazy.

In Ohio, where I am now, the sunrise was spectacular.  It was 65 degrees this morning, so cold, I dug out my fuzzy moccasins and wore them for hours.  I can't wait to get to an internet connection where I can post pictures. My ramblings probably seem a bit dry, without all the pretty pictures. It's been a week of heaven, without driving anywhere. Puppy and I needed a break from the traffic snarls.

Oh no!  I'm on the wrong road again!  Can you imagine driving through this mess when an earthquake hits?  Oh but earthquakes probably don't happen here. I'm thinking of the Caribbean and the middle of the night rumblings that toss us out of bed.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Strange Noises Down Bumpy Thumpy Roads

Delaware State Park in Ohio
We parked here overnight July 5, 2010


Today in the soybean field, the winds are blowing ferociously. The motorhome rocks back and forth, like a boat in choppy seas. And that is with most all the windows open! I shall open the rest, though the ones in the guest loft are hard as heck to reach unless I hook up the inside ladder. Hmm... maybe I can stand on the driver's seat and passenger seat, then reach them. I converted the double bunk to a single bunk the other day. It goes both ways. When I have company, I always have it at the double bunk size, excuse me, they call it the Queen bunk because the sleeping area is the size of a queen sized bed. 





It's the only area of the motorhome the puppy cannot reach on his own. So my guest lost is "puppy free". Luckily he is a breed of dog that doesn't shed. What luck! He is fully housebroken, meaning he does his restroom business outdoors and he doesn't bother ANY of my stuff in the motorhome.






Last night though, he grabbed his little water dish, and chewed very neatly around the edges. Maybe he wanted to mark it as HIS. Well, there is no doubt now, which little plastic dish is his. I haven't bothered to buy him doggy bowls. I just use the little cheap plastic ones because they have lids. When we travel, I have to cover up any leftover food and put it away anyhow. Also, I sometimes put ice cubes in a covered bowl, then when we stop, I can just pop the lid off and let him drink some cool water, pop the lid back on and off we go again. Seems I do more dishes for him, than for me. This is the first time he has felt obligated to mark his dish with his teeth.






He is teething, his adult teeth are coming in. I give him doggy treats that he can chew on, so he doesn't chew on my stuff. Good doggy!






I so very rarely buy any frozen food, so my small freezer holds ice cube trays and a plastic rectangular container of ice. I dump the frozen trays into the container, so I always have a container full of ice. Someone thought I had an ice-maker on board. I made them a tall glass of iced tea and they saw me reach in the big container of ice and fill up their glass. I explained, I do have an ice-maker, it's ME. I guess it's the Caribbean soul in me that wants to always have plenty of ice on hand. When I was measuring the freezer to figure out what sized container would fit in there to hold ice cubes, I ended up buying a plastic container advertised as a shoe box size. So I guess you could say, I keep a shoe box full of ice cubes in the motorhome freezer.






By the way, I do love the comments posted on my blogs. I had to change it to something like "Your comment has been sent for moderation" or something similar. I have super limited internet access currently, can only send and receive emails, and I am posting this by email.






When it works.






Which is not that often.






Anyhow, the ONLY reason I am moderating posts, is that I have been attacked by Oriental Porn Spam! Yes, they are relentless, posting comments to my every blog post, and the links take you to Oriental Porn Sites. How disgusting. Porn doesn't disgust me, it's the fact that they target my innocent blog to link to porn. I am not writing about porn and if you are looking for porn, you sure aren't looking here, so it it's so nonsensical to me. I don't know which oriental country is doing this, they often use the traditional oriental characters. Sometimes they post in English, some little blurb, with a link to their porn site. So now with the moderation button turned on, I am able to delete the porn spam before it starts. What a hassle. Any other comments made, that don't lead back to porn sites, I am posting "as is".

After an energetic game of fetch and catch,
Harley is tethered in his car seat, ready for travel, with his stuffed whale.
He is so tired, he can barely hold his head up.
Moments later, he and the whale were fast asleep.



While rambling down the road last Sunday, I had windows in the motorhome open, so I wouldn't need air conditioning, so I could save on gas. Over the stove, is a metal mini-blind and it was making a horrific noise as the wind blew through the mini blinds. I pulled over and shut that window. Then I got going again.






I could still hear a funny noise, as if the blinds were still making a noise, but I had no idea what it was. That is until I parked for the night.






There in the floor of my tiny galley (kitchen) were ALL my paper towels. The paper towel holder was empty, save for the cardboard tube. Apparently the wind from the windows, started the paper towels unfurling, and they landed in the floor. The entire roll!






It reminded me of my cats and how when they were kittens, they loved to unroll an entire roll of toilet paper and leave it all piled up in the floor. My puppy dog looked very innocent, and as well he should. He was riding shotgun in the front seat, tethered to his 4 foot leash, which had been shortened to 2 feet. So he was completely innocent. He stared at the paper towels in the floor, then looked up at me with his innocent "I didn't do THAT" face.






Right now he is on his tether and the front door and screen door to the motorhome are fully open, so he can dash in and out. Right now he has chosen his little doggy bed to curl up in, rather than play outside. He is waiting for me to stop writing, and go out and play Frisbee with him. It's become his favorite game and we have three different types of Frisbees. All are designed not to hurt him, should he accidnetally get hit by a flying Frisbee.






He has also become a bondage expert. Sometimes he gets so excited, he ties himself up too. Other times, he races to meet me or greet someone, and he manages to tie up their ankles as fast as he can. It's funny.






I can't trust him outdoors loose yet. He runs wild and thinks nothing of running in the street! I hope when he gets older, I can train him to be with me and not be tethered all the time outdoors.






While driving Sunday, besides the mystery noise which turned out to be the unfurling paper towels, I heard a loud crash. Gosh I hate that. Later I figured out SOMEBODY forgot to put the chopping boards away before driving. Hmm... that somebody was me. Little old me. When I am parked, the boards sit vertical next to the stove, there is a little niche there, but if I drive off without putting them in a cabinet, they land on the floor with a LOUD noise, scaring me half to death, wondering if something hit me or if I hit something.


Architecture fascinates me.
The curious Islamic Center near Toledo, Ohio, gave us pause for the cause.
Had we drove through a time warp into a different country?




Amazingly I haven't hit much with my motorhome. Recently, I did touch my friend's house gutter and leave a small gouge on my fiberglass side, but no damage to their gutter. I was following their directions, so I had help with my gaffe.






The second time I ever drove my motorhome, which was to a gas station to top up, for when I got ready to go, the gas would already be in the tank, I got to the gas station and it was so crowded there wasn't room for me to even pull in. I passed the gas station and turned onto a side street, to look for a place to turn around. The other reason to keep a full gas tank, is for the generator. It was winter at the time, and I was worried the power might go out and it sure would be handy to have gas in the tank for the generator, which uses the same tank as the engine. Only caveat is, that, the generator will not start on less than a quarter tank of gas and it shuts down if it is running and a quarter tank of gas is reached. I suppose this is so that if you fall asleep with the generator running and you are parked in the middle of nowhere, you won't wake up to an empty gas tank.






My friend was riding with me to the gas station and he foolishly praised me for handling the motorhome so well. We had gone all of 3 miles. He had fussed at me for going only 25 miles an hour towards the gas station. I pointed out we were in a School Zone and the speed limit was 25. Duh...



Now we had passed the gas station and he fussed again. I explained that at 28 feet long, and the gas station so crowded, I didn't see anywhere to pull in and wait. I can't just pull into the staion a few feet and leave twenty-something feet sticking out in the road.






Now we were on a side street, and he said something nice like "You worry for nothing, you handle this really well!" Two seconds later we heard a loud THWAP. I had hit a low tree branch. The motorhome is 11 feet tall and well, the branch was dangling lower than that across the street. We giggled about it and luckily no damage was done, it was a very light tree branch which broke off when I hit it. Since then, when I am on a street with overhanging tree branches, I creep down the lane, really slowly. If the Fed Ex of UPS delivery truck has been there before me, then they have most likely trimmed the low branches back for me.


Harley just woke up and can't do a thing with his hair... 
He is very expressive with his ears, they are half mast here, until he fully wakes up.
As I write this, I see puppy curl up in his fluffy fleece lined doggy bed. Well actually, it's a cat bed. The label says so. But he can't read, and I don't care, there weren't any doggy beds that fit his tiny body and I know he likes to feel comfy and secure when in his own wittle bed. He must have been too hot in his bed, next he laid out on the new vinyl floor. Maybe that was too cool, next he moved to the throw rug. A moment later, he moved again, and laid half on, half off the rug.






He is patiently waiting for the Frisbee game to begin.






Soon as I can figure out how to post pictures on this low tech super slow internet connection, that only lets me do email and NOTHING else, I will post some pretty pics. Bear with me.

OK, I finally got some pics posted for you!








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