Wednesday, March 30, 2011

The Undammed

I could just marvel all day at the beauty of our world. Take me out of the city, stick me back in nature, where I surely belong. 


The Edisto River in South Carolina is over 200 meandering miles long, boasting to be the longest blackwater river in North America that is not dammed nor leveed. 


The South Carolina Lowcountry is  used to describe the state's southern coastal counties, generally Charleston and the counties south of there. The region includes the South Carolina Sea Islands plus the  counties of Beaufort, Jasper, Hampton, and Colleton.



The Cypress Swamp boardwalk on the Edisto River at Colleton State Park in South Carolina leads to a boat dock.  The river crisscrosses the swampy forest, with levels changing often.
The Edisto River is a favorite for canoe and kayak enthusiasts. 
Click for more Information on boating the Edisto River
Wolfman Harley is snuggled in his afghan while cold rains pour down, outside his window. He can raise both ears, but he prefers that junk-yard-dog look, of a one-eared dog. Literally, he naps, with one ear out at all times. 


A dear friend had this large afghan custom made for me years ago, then shipped it to the Caribbean, where I was living with my cats. I slept with it every night until I relocated to America, losing my beloved cat on the way home from the airport. My cat of nine years and this precious afghan, were some  of a few treasured sentimental items I managed to bring from the Caribbean.  I was distraught and heartbroken for many months without my cat. Already super sick, my health seemed to decline rapidly.  I looked for my cat in person, plus with the aid of thousands of phone calls, posters, printed postcards, and newspaper ads, yet he never turned up. I still sorely miss him. He was very healing for me, with a strong personality that made him unique. 


While writing about the weather for 12 years,  in the Virgin Islands at http://dearmissmermaid.com/indexSTORMCARIB.html , I often included anecdotes about my cats.

Because my lost cat loved this afghan, I was too upset to use it for many months, so it laid in waiting on the guest bed in the loft of my modest wheel estate.  I kept it hidden so that I rarely saw it.  One day, many months later,  I wanted to nap, but I was chilly, but not chilly enough to slip under the comforter.  I knew  the banished afghan would be the perfect cover, but I had not touched it in almost a year.  Tearfully, I removed the afghan from the guest loft, then laid to rest,  snuggled in cozy comfort, thinking of all three of my cherished cats that often curled up with me, keeping me company, especially while I was so sick.
LIL BEAR was born in the Caribbean, in 2001 to a sickly feral mother, who taught him to be wild and hate humans. As a kitten, it took him months to be tame.  He turned out to be a super loving kitty, who had a fondness for the great outdoors as well as the comforts of home. He loved to cuddle in the afghan, with or without me. Sadly, through my own stupidity, he was lost around Blacksburg, South Carolina during a cold snap while I was moving to America. While seriously ill, I searched long and hard for him for months, chasing down every black cat anyone called about in the area. I never found him and it broke my heart. I still wonder about his fate.

My puppy dog, Harley, took an immediate liking to the seemingly new afghan, adopting it for his own comfort whenever he is napping. So now we keep it on our bed and we are both really happy to have my old fluffy friend around. 
I am forever fascinated with the mystery and romance of Spanish Moss, quite common throughout the low country of South Carolina.
The forest is so big, my wheel estate so small.
I discovered the unique charm of Colleton State Park, South Carolina for only 12 hours,  last November. I was more than happy to return here recently, this time for a few days.
Numerous hiking trails cut through the swampy forest behind me.
Harley and I hiked many of them, soaking up the magnificence of a less complicated world, where the only sounds are our  footfalls against a symphony of chirping birds with a soft whisper of a slow moving river.


South Carolina Off the Beaten Path

The low country of South Carolina and the Caribbean, have many traits in common. Maybe it explains why I feel at home in both places. In the third grade, I had a teacher from this area, she spoke of it lovingly, as if she was homesick for the low country, everyday she taught in upstate South Carolina. I can still hear her unique southern accent, it was remarkably different from the upstate natives. Now that folks move and travel far and wide, it's much harder to distinguish regional accents. But back then, her accent instantly told you what part of the state she was raised in.

She used to ask me almost every day, if she could run her fingers through my long straight hair. It was an  innocent request and I always indulged her.  I remember during gusty days of March, the winds would whip knots into my hair during recess. She often brushed it for me, before we all returned to our school work. At the beginning of the school year, she assigned me a seat, right in front of her desk. She informed me, I was expected to work hard and make excellent grades. It was a remarkable school year for me as I struggled to make all A's.  My family was having a bit of chaos at home, but that teacher instilled a love of learning, making me toil hard at my studies, for fear I would lose her respect if I didn't score high on my exams.

When it came time for school pictures, the teachers were expected to make sure our hair was combed neatly in place, before the photo. I was dismayed when she lined us up, putting me at the very end, the very last child in our class to be photographed. She hurriedly combed out each child's hair in line, then spent extra time combing my long hair what seemed like a 100 times.  I still remember that photo, I had a big smile, and not a single long hair out of place.  I can still see that teacher in my mind, and hear her unmistakable dialect from the low country.

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Sunday, March 27, 2011

Shoot Pictures, Not Mermaids

From Dear Miss Mermaid, pictures of one of my favorite places in the sun. 
Entrance to Hunting Island State Park Campground.
The Palmetto Tree is the official state tree.
For more information on this state park, click here. 





Gay Fish Company, St Helena Island, South Carolina

Harley kicking up some sand on Hunting Island Beach, South Carolina.
He was having a good hair day too!

Paris Island, South Carolina

Spanish Moss drips from ancient trees in Colleton County, South Carolina

Sand dunes at Hunting Island State Park, South Carolina

This is the path I took from the beach,  through the sub tropical forest to reach my motorhome in the campground.
You can just barely make out the rear end of my wheel estate.
I woke up before dawn, popping up the shades so I could see the astonishing beauty before climbing out of bed.
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Saturday, March 26, 2011

Wowza

The sun is out, summer has made a cameo appearance in March!  Puppy and I love to walk on the beach at Hunting Island State Park. You just never know what you will find. 


This nice lady on the beach was clearly enjoying herself.
I guess bikinis come in all sizes. One elderly man was casually walking by, looking sideways at this lady, without turning his head, then he tripped on a rock, and fell down. His wife was fussing at him, while she helped him up again. 
Someone said I was  a frontier lady when I was telling them of my latest kitchen exploits from making yogurt from scratch, then making yogurt cheese. Plus slow cooking dried beans to turn into delicious meals and dips. Add on battling thieving raccoons, plus washing laundry by hand.  All in the day of the life of one enterprising mermaid...

I seem to be on a repair mode, with more to fix than I have time, but time I must make. Dining al fresco with the birds chirping while pine needles rain down on me, is actually rather nice. The raccoon hangs about in the shadows, seeking leftovers. He wants something to go with the full ketchup bottle he stole from me the other night.

A big vine, suddenly fell from a very tall tree, landing less than a foot away from me. Sometimes the palmetto trees let go of a large branch, startling me. I feel like a nature magnet. 

In my travels from Titiusville, Florida, to the truck stop in Brunswick, Georgia, to Camping World in Savannah to getting lost in Hilton Head,  to finally settling at one my favorite spots in the whole wide world; Hunting Island, South Carolina, I came across a Goodwill store while getting lost. 

Goodwill is a non-profit agency that sells donated clothing and household goods. My motorhome, suddenly veered over, landing us in the Goodwill parking lot.  Harley the puppy dog was a tad enthusiastic, he has two 25 cent teddy bears from Goodwill. One came with a sweater that fits him.  Today, I left him in the motorhome with the hurricane 12 volt fan going, along with the exhaust fan over the stove plus three open windows. That way I figure, he gets plenty of fresh air movement, though it wasn't very hot. 

I went inside Goodwill to look at clothing. I found nothing to my liking that also fit.  Either I loved it and it didn't fit, or it fit and I hated it. So no clothes today.

I took a quick browse through the household miscellany. I came upon a vintage Singer Hand Vac with an old-fashioned black heavy duty cord, the kind built to last a lifetime. It was made in Anderson, South Carolina.  That Singer Plant opened in 1950, briefly made sewing machines, then went on to make small appliances.  The plant in Anderson closed around the 70's as I recall. Actually, I think it reopened in Pickens, South Carolina. 

This is model EHV-1 vacuum cleaner. I know the HV is hand vac. I am unsure what the E is for, perhaps electric?  

The case  is made of heavy duty plastic, with metal innards. Overall it's weighty with a nice long 10 foot cord. I wandered around Goodwill until I found an empty electric socket. I plugged in the unit, then discovered some dirt.  I began tidying up the Goodwill store with the hand vac. Matter of fact, I vacuumed quite of few shelves and a good bit of flooring, just about everything I could find within the 10 foot range of the cord. Goodwill definitely needed some cleaning.  This Singer has super suction. I was amazed at how much dirt was in the store, and how much this handy vac was willing to suck away.  Other shoppers must have found me rather entertaining, as several stopped to stare while I played with the vacuum cleaner.  I turned it off, when I was through tidying up, then opened up the unit, sure enough it was full of dirt and dust. 

The price was $2.99. I hemmed and hawed, a vacuum cleaner for my wheel estate would be a definite advantage, what with the puppy and all. Even though I ripped out the wall to wall carpet in favor of vinyl tiling, I still had carpet in the bath and cab area. The other day, when I flipped up the mattress (not an easy feat) I found loads of dirt and dust, which I swept up best I could. Then there is the upholstery that could use a good dirt sucker. 

Oh the thrills of living on a teeny tiny budget!  I am hesitating over a $2.99 used vacuum cleaner.  I could easily justify it, because I needed it for health reasons. Living cleanly does improve one's health dramatically. That settled the matter. I took it to the cashier. She asked if I qualified for a discount. I said "I'm sick, old, tired and crazy."  Without missing a beat, she rang up a 20% discount, reducing  my purchase to  $2.39.  

After I arrived at the campground, I vacuumed everything in the motorhome. I was amazed at how much dirt I found. I guess you could say I'm trying to lead a clean life. 

Last night my neighbor in the campground, left his garbage in the back of his pickup truck. South Carolina state parks have cleaned up their act, making garbage disposal in one central location, rather than unsightly dumps throughout the park. Its not a bad walk, especially if you haul your garbage often, so you aren't dragging a mountain with you. Of course many folks simply burn up the gas to drive to the garbage dump, while folks like me, hoof it there on foot with an enthusiastic puppy. 



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Thursday, March 24, 2011

Life Interrupted





My laptop computer died. 


I had discovered a virus that suddenly appeared. I was working frantically to remove it. At one point the instructions for removal told me to restart the computer. I did. Well, guess what. The computer won't restart. 


*Sigh.*


At least my backups are up to date. Much of it anyhow. So no worries there. But I need my computer to continue working. I am dead in the water. What's even worse, I just committed to a freelance assignment. Nobody likes excuses, they want results!  I have to figure out a way to get up and running again. 


I pulled out an antique laptop, that limps along with several things wrong with it. I say antique because it is well over 10 years old. It works at the speed of a sleepy turtle. Multitasking is not allowed, it's a one-thing-at-a-time computer. Actually, I just checked and this computer was introduced in 2002, so that makes it only 9 years old. 


My laptop that I use for business was introduced in 2006 but purchased as a refurbished product in 2010.  I chose that because it was very economical and it ran on XP, as do all my programs. I didn't want newer windows and be forced into buying new programs, so it made sense, plus the price was right. 


On this 2002 model, if I wait 3-5 minutes, web pages eventually load. If I start a new program, it loads in about the same time. Yesterday I wrote about the rest of the world being so fast, while I was so slow. Now, I've been put in my place for sure!


Well, my blog may go on hiatus while I search for a computer repair place. I guess I'm moving back to the truck stops too. 


Life is so funny. 


Every day is the dawn of a new error...


I plan to just pack up the computer mess, concentrate on repairing the motorhome.  My rent is up here Saturday morning, I was going to stay a few extra days, as I don't have to be anywhere until April 1st, when a super important appointment comes around.  I am currently about 280 miles from there. There aren't any major towns between here and there, so I may have to detour to find a computer repair place, if I don't figure out a miracle. 


Well, this super slow computer has certainly humbled me. The only reason I've been riding around with this antique computer is because it's great for playing music or movies and not much else. The built in touch pad works erratically, so it's rather cantankerous to use. I feel total guilt if I use my main laptop for anything besides working, so using the old one for movies or music, made sense to me. Now I am limping along trying to work on it, but the slowness is just too frustrating. 


How embarrassed I am to complain about slowness, but when it comes to work, I like to speed along, making every minute count.  It's just when I am not working, I love to proceed at a slower pace, soaking up every beautiful moment of my daily life. 


You can reach me by phone, but lately it's  like playing basketball in soft cement. 


Oh and until Saturday, my phone works randomly, some sort of local tower problem they haven't sorted out. 


I guess you could say, I'm out of touch...


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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Speed On Past Me

Silly me!  I was driving exactly 15 miles per hour, per the speed limit sign, but incredibly, I counted  six cars, including one towing a camper, that raced around me, in their haste to get there ahead of  me. Why bother having speed limit signs when they are largely ignored?  I guess I was the only one enjoying the 15mph speed limit, soaking up the sheer beauty of the roadside treats. I remember when as a child,  this road was paved in sand and seashells. I miss that. I am sorry they felt the need for speed , to put this ugly blacktop down to drive upon. But nobody asked me either. Still, I feel sorry for those rushing around me. They missed all the glorious treats, nature has to offer. 




Tired, so tired. No fair, I have so much I want to do. 


My latest alternative treatments, is suddenly enabling me to sleep hours at a time. That is pure heaven. I used to get up every hour or so, waking up for the 10th time at dawn, in sheer frustration.  Sometimes by 4am,  I would just go ahead and get up, pour some coffee down my sleepy self, starting my day. 


Often I would succumb to an afternoon nap, other days I felt guilty. Then I would tell myself, if you don't hurry up and get well, there won't be other days. So I rest.


My sick friend left unexpectedly after barely being here 24 hours. Everyone is in such a big awful rush these days. I'm flattered they drove 250 miles to see me, I dropped what I was doing to visit, cook and nursemaid them. But all I could recommend or offer  was my various alternative treatments, for their current ailments.  I don't have a medicine chest full of drugs to help with much of anything at all.  


My friend scoffs at alternative treatments, telling me I am an absolute fool not to be at the constant mercy of the doctors and drug companies. My friend is seeing over a dozen specialists, yet incredibly, he keeps getting worse, instead of better. 
I read in an RV forum, that once you got a motorhome, you would always want another one that is newer, bigger and fancier.
I look at this newer bigger motorhome, up for sale,  and lament at the teeny tiny sparse windows.
It looks like it was designed to keep the world out, not let it in.
I love my current wheel estate with big jumbo windows to view my surroundings.
I'm happy with old, simple, small.
My motorhome has 12 windows and I am grateful for each of them!


I'm a tad worried I might catch what they had, so I am cleaning and sterilizing my wheel estate. But I find myself very tired.  I think it's just my body warning me to use rest and sleep as a method of healing. 


Even the dog seems wore out. My friend doesn't like dogs, but he knew I had one. My dog was trying his best to be friendly, while my friend shoved him around whenever my puppy tried to greet him. I had to remind him my little dog is only 6 pounds, not something to kick and throw.  My dog assumed if you've come in his home, you've come with good intentions to be nice to him. So now my puppy is confused. I'm confused. We are plowing through this morning in a fog of confusion. 


My friend was so sick, it reminded me of the horrible food poisoning I went through recently. At least that is what I think it was. I ate that fast food with my friends, then became horribly sick for the next 48 hours. My friends ordered a different meal from me, they seemed fine. I know being sick at their home, was no picnic for them or me. 


I tried to nursemaid my sick friend.  He did say he had been eating mountains of junk food and fast foods. That's primarily his diet. At least here, he had healthy food for 24 hours. 


Fast food is addicting. It's full of sugars and chemicals to make it addicting. Those fast food chains, need your money, need their profits. Your health is of no concern to them, repeat customers is their only focus. I read labels and ingredients. It's horrifying what the powers to be put in our foods. It certainly fuels the medical community nicely though. Eat junk, get sick, be forced to pay for pricey health plans, expensive drugs, soaring medical costs. It's an endless circle. Doctors and health care plans do not promote healthy eating as a way of curing ills or preventing ills. You are left out in the cold, if you want to eat healthy and get well that way.


I know so many people who are a slave to their drugs. There is one popular dug for reducing cholesterol. It seems everyone I know is taking that drug with horrible side effects. Wouldn't it be easier, to just eat healthy and avoid the awful drugs?  But taking this cholesterol lowering drug, enables them to eat all the junk they want that raises cholesterol. Then they take drugs to lower it again. It's mind boggling to me. But my alternative treatments are mind boggling to others. 


Coming back to America has been so hard on me to realize that I am still slow, while much of  the rest of the world is racing around on high octane fuel, with no time to slow down and enjoy life.   Sometimes I feel like I should come up to speed, other times I think not. 


I'll just be happy in my slow weird way while the rest of the world rushes past me. 
Camping World graciously allowed me to park overnight in their parking lot a few days ago. 
I was also able to buy a few needed parts for my wheel estate from them. 
We were near a loud noisy bar, so we were treated to free music entertainment too!
What luck. 
Before sunset, the dog and I walked the neighborhood, looking for patches of grass he could water.



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Raccoon Robbers

I love the comments from readers.  Thank you very much for taking the time to make a comment. I truly appreciate that. It makes my day special!


A friend of mine called me up with a frantic "Help!  I'm lost" conversation. Turns out they had decided to surprise me by driving 250 miles to drop in on me. I wasn't expecting anyone, I had my place torn apart with about 10 projects going on. 


Let's see I was :
   
   Repairing the air conditioner
   Making yogurt
   Making cheese
   Writing an article in between doing some medical research
   Trying to get the stains off the jumbo picnic table cloth
   Cleaning out the basement
   Reorganizing the pantry
   Making a duplicate backup of my backup
   Soaking and washing laundry by hand (no laundry facilities here)
   Searching for an important document that went on walk-about
   Training the dog
   Plus doing some major spring cleaning


I gave my friend final directions, then set about trying to rein in my chaos.  My friend arrived, turns out they not only had driven so far to see me, but were also fairly ill and ravenously hungry.  I was trying to pull together a dinner and be their instant nurse maid. If I sound tired, it's because I am positively wore out. 


By early evening, I was just exhausted and went to bed with a bit of chaos everywhere. 


I thought I had cleaned up the table outside, but I had apparently forgotten to finish that. I had carried the dishes inside but left a bucket of water outside. Even worse, on the picnic table was a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of hot sauce. Also on the table was a used coffee can, with a lid, that was being used as an outdoor  garbage can for cigarette butts, picnic napkins and bagged up puppy poop.  Used coffee cans of any size, along with their snap  on lids, make great outdoor garbage cans while camping. 


This campground has over 200 lots scattered around, and only one garbage dump; at the main exit.


When I got up the next morning, I stepped outside with a cup of coffee. Much to my horror, the raccoons had made a visit. Finding the bucket of water, they washed their little hands, something raccoons are very fond of. They not only like to wash their hands, but wash their food as well. So my clean bucket of water was filthy. Next they climbed up on the picnic table, leaving dirty little raccoon hand prints everywhere. Their paw prints were all over the hot sauce bottle but not the ketchup bottle. That is because they STOLE the ketchup bottle!


They had also opened up the coffee can garbage, dumping the contents liberally across the picnic table, the bench and the surrounding grounds. 


My neighbors, around the corner,  who cut through my campsite throughout the day and night, to take a shortcut to the public restrooms announced their campsite had been a target too.


Earlier I had seen a big fat raccoon begging at another campsite. I guess the campers have inadvertently tamed it, by feeding the creature. 


I was laughing at my mess, thinking about the campers I met at Long Point Park in Florida. I had watched them set up a huge campsite, as they were expecting friends and family to join them. Then they went surfing. When they came back, they asked me if I had seen anything suspicious around their campsite. I had not and told them so, inquiring if there was a problem.


Turns out they had left a large cooler outside, full of ice and fresh shrimp. A family of raccoons had come along, opened up the cooler, then devoured all their shrimp, making a huge mess at the same time.  We laughed about it. 


I was relating this story to my friend, and lamenting that the raccoons stole my brand new bottle of ketchup, but left the hot sauce behind. 


Sometimes in the early afternoon, I suddenly became super exhausted. I laid down for a quick nap.  My visiting sick friend was already napping.  Maybe a half hour later, I woke up in a fog, thinking I would finish the air conditioning repair then sneak to the beach.   


My visiting sick friend, had simply vanished. I just assumed they took their car to go tour the lighthouse or the rest of the island. After a few hours of fussing with the air conditioner (Yippee!  It works now!)  I called their cell phone to find out where they were. Turns out they were halfway home. I guess in their fevered state, they forgot to mention this to me. Furthermore, they left their shoes, clothes and toiletry bag behind. 


Life is goofy!  


As I write this, I am dead tired again, so back to bed for me for a little while. 
Beautiful campground on the coast of South Carolina. 



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Monday, March 21, 2011

Shangri-La

Hunting Island State Park, South Carolina
As a child, I came to this island many summers.
I fell in love with islands, summer, the sea and boats.
When we packed up to leave after our  one or two week stay, I would cry.
As an adult, I eventually managed to  pursue those loves.
This island has changed very little since then, thanks to the protection afforded by  being a gorgeous state park.
Last November, I spent 24 hours of pure heaven here. I cried when I left.
(You can use my search box in the right column to read about Hunting Island last November).
Now it's March and through a miracle, I find myself back here again, in spite of the lengthy detour when I became lost.  




After spending the past 9 weeks in a crowded RV park, with tiny lots,  I am now able to spread out and commune with nature.
As you may know from my past posts, my motorhome loves trees! 
See "My Motorhome Is A Tree Hugger"



The campground is quiet except for nature. Birds of all types are singing that spring is here!

I see the sunrise playing peek a book through the jungle that separates me from the Atlantic Ocean. I lay in bed with the shades up, rubbing the tummy of my puppy dog, who is ensconced in his kitty cat bed, which is situated on the corner of my bed. He drifts back to sleep, while I slowly wake up, marveling at the sheer beauty of tropical oasis.

I think I am in heaven. Any moment, I expect the angels to come fluttering by.

I check my calendar. Guess what? Today is the first day of spring. No wonder the birds are so happy.

This is just so funny, because Saturday it was very hot like mid summer.  Then Sunday, it turned bitterly cold with chilly winds.  I heard on the radio it was record breaking high  temperatures for Saturday, but I didn't recall if they said for which area, but my motorhome was over 100 degrees inside when Camping World graciously offered me electricity during my overnight stay. Actually, once the motorhome cooled down and the sun set, I was able to shut the air-conditioning off and open the windows back up.

Sunday, when I arrived at my Shangri-la, it was very chilly with  ferocious winds.  I looked like a total fool. When I awoke Sunday morning, I put on a bright pink tropical print sleeveless summer dress. I was excited to be on night two of my odyssey into boondocking by permission.

But for Sunday night, I had treated myself to reservations at one of my all time favorite spots in the whole wide world. Check-in was at 2pm, and I intended to be there exactly at 2.

Well, six hours later, a bedraggled puppy and I came limping into our destination, beaten down and wore out. We had drove off the map again, this time we were lost in a place we didn't want to be. Normally, we just forge ahead, making lemonade out of lemons, but we had reservations somewhere else.  Somehow, someway, we had to make sense of where we were and how to get to where we wanted to be.

It's so rare for me to have a reservation anywhere.

Normally I don't make reservations for anymore at all. I just show up, and if they have room for me, I stay, if they don't, I leave. Often I call ahead to inquire about space availability before I arrive, but I generally quit making prepaid reservations. I've been burned before and it was an expensive mistake.

Many campgrounds have overly complicated cancellation policies. Getting lost often constitutes losing your prepaid reservation. Some campgrounds charge extra if you're late.  Yes, I have seen that on several websites, an hourly surcharge if you come after your exact reservation time. So I just wing it, with a wish and a prayer.

Last June when I broke down on the highway, I had a reservation at an RV park. I had just made the reservation that morning.  The manager insisted on a credit card to hold my spot, claiming if I showed up without a reservation, they would not have room for me. That afternoon, after calling AAA for help, I called the RV park to explain my predicament.  I wanted to change my reservation, as obviously I wasn't going to make it there in time. The manager told me in no uncertain terms, that I was losing my money and that was that.

I've since discovered that where campgrounds and RV parks are concerned, there is no norm.  Everyone has there own set of unique rules, that seem vastly different than the last place. Some managers I've encountered at RV parks, should be in charge of prisons, not in charge of offering lodging to the public. Others are wonderful folks who are well aware that running an RV park or campground is part of the hospitality industry.  They make you feel welcome, as well they should.

I've come to recognize the potentially hard to deal with managers by their websites or their signage in their park. If their website is full of sentences that begin with "NO..."  or "You must..."  or a long laundry list of surcharges, you can bet the managers are not very gracious hosts. Ditto for excessive negative signage that starts with multiple "No's". I was in one pretty campground that was heavily marred with excessive signage that was all negative. It seriously detracted from an otherwise beautiful place.  I would have preferred a printed list of rules, rather than an abundance of negative signs all over creation.

As I recall, the scenario last June,  went something like this; I called around noon for space available. I foolishly made a reservation for that night and gave them my credit card number, per their insistence that they were hugely popular and a spot for me would not be available without a prepaid reservation. Three hours later, I broke down just as rush hour traffic descended upon my location. After speaking with AAA, I called the RV park to explain my predicament and asked to cancel my reservation.

She insisted on keeping my money, so I asked to apply the money to the following night, assuming I was able to repair the motorhome, as all this was happening on a Friday in late afternoon, but I was assured that my RV would be repaired Saturday, if all went well.  The manager would not allow me to change my reservation, claiming they had turned away multiple reservations because of me. She acted like I was pushing them into poverty and near bankruptcy or some such foolishness because I had the bad manners to break down on the highway. She charged my credit card for the night I never got to use.

Just for grins and giggles,while waiting on AAA,  I called a friend of mine and asked him to call the RV Park, claiming to be a large family with 4 RV's, wanting four spaces for that night. Incredibly, the RV park told them they had exactly 4 spaces left, but would need their credit card, because otherwise they would fill up and the family wouldn't have accommodation.

So it sort of burned me up, that this RV park, was not at all suffering because my motorhome had the bad manners to have an emergency. They obviously were going to bed that night, with empty spots in their campground.  Furthermore, they had apparently not turned others away, at my expense at all, as they had claimed.

Since then, I've been very gun shy about making prepaid reservations except at super popular places, which I rarely frequent anyhow, but it happens.

Like my Shangri-La, where I am now, is popular, sad to say *giggle*.  But what the heck, I went to kindergarten. I learned to share.






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Blown Away


I came to the bridge over the intracoastal waterway. It's about 70 feet above sea level. A temporary sign had been posted there.

"High Winds, Use Caution."

The winds were indeed very  strong.  Matter of fact,  I was blown 40 miles off course.

Somehow I managed to go over the same bridge twice. Only the second time, there was just the lone sign pole, trembling in the moderate gale force winds. You could see where the sign was ripped away, damaging the pole.

I burst out laughing. So a word to the wise, if you see a naked sign post trembling in the wind, before a big bridge, use caution, the winds might have blown the warning sign to parts unknown.

Like me.

I drove off the left page of the atlas, got lost in the spiral bound, and before I made it over to the right page, I had gone over 40 miles out of the way.

Usually I don't mind getting lost, but today, I actually had "A PLAN" to be somewhere by 2pm.

Like a typical sailor, I arrived late. Only 4 hours late.

Puppy and I were both just plumb tuckered out. And we forgot to stop and do the laundry, so tonight I washed some of it by hand. I figured up a semi-easy way to do that, well maybe I should say, a less painful method...

There's been a lot of chaos in my life recently, more on that later. I tangled with a crazy woman who promised one thing, but... it's a long story for another day.

It's now 1am and I am feeling like my sea legs are failing me. I think I'll take my doggy and chocolate, and go night night.
OK, it's BRAGGING time!
My latest yogurt efforts in my wheel estate yielded this creamy thick yogurt.
It was So thick, I just had to show you, but how to capture the difference between thick or thin yogurt on film?  So I stuck the spoon in it.  As you can see, the spoon is upright with no help at all, except from the heavenly yogurt.
Angels must be making this stuff, when I'm not looking!




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