I am so thankful for this big beautiful world and my lucky chance to catch a glimpse of such gorgeous natural beauty. Take me home, country roads. Paris Mountain, South Carolina.
Growing things fascinate the puppy dog. He is rooting around the grass in the RV park, rooting out stuff. Maybe he has taken up weeding. He definitely loves bugs and flutter-flies.
He starts barking at the neighbors, I dash out to shush him down. Then we play ball. Baseball, football, tennis and golf.
I am wore out. He is just warming up. Harley weighs five pounds, but has a stubborn streak to him. I think it's a little dog thing, to have really BIG attitude. He thinks of himself as a big dog anyhow. He loves to play with other dogs, no matter what their size! But he hasn't quite figured out how far his security range is, when it comes to barking at others. I am trying to teach him to be a nice well behaved QUIET doggy. Ha, ha, ha. So I play ball with him. He is lightning fast at running, a good sprinter.
We practice his 360's, but he wouldn't do a backflip.
He needed loads of exercise. We had a long day in the motorhome.
My copilot can't drive, doesn't do maps, nor make drinks or change the music.
However, he is an expert at sleeping on the job.
Over the hills and through the woods to adventure we go. He was good traveler. I forgot to check the log, but I think we did about 230-ish miles today.It wasn't as harrowing as my last long trips. OK laugh. 230 miles isn't a long trip, but I am driving by myself with a puppy. I am recuperating and he has a tiny bladder. So we made a few stops.
Beautiful flowers on a hill against a backdrop of lush, forest in North Carolina.
Today I pick out a spot that is nice and level for the motorhome. Harley was thrilled there was room to put out nearly a 100 foot tether, tied to a table and the motorhome, about 50 feet apart. This gives him room to run in all directions while we play ball. He needed some good running exercise after his stint as co-pilot. About 8 miles before the RV Park, he alerted me to the fact that he needed to go outside and water something quick. Poor thing, he had endure a few more miles of me sweet talking, while I frantically looked for a spot to pull over.
Finally, whew, we found place to pull well off the road, that had some overgrown grass. Harley promptly watered it. Then we went on a very short walk, then back to the motorhome. Since we were stopped anyhow, I used my on-board rest room as well. In some places, like state parks, this is referred to as a "Comfort Station". It used to be bathrooms, then rest rooms but now it's a Comfort Station in some places.
Harley invites Bo-Bo to ride with him. Bo-Bo still has errant pine needles stuck to him, cause Harley took him on a hike through the woods. This is after I removed half the forest, that was attached to Bo-Bo's green fur. Harley, doesn't mind that Bo-Bo is a mess, too big for his bed. Harley holds Bo-Bo tightly, since he can't seem to fit him in the seat belt either. It's a shame that neither Harley nor Bo-Bo can take a turn driving.
So now, that we were both drained, so to speak, we carried on to the park, which was maybe only 15-20 minutes away.
The last two nights, I had a nice driveway invitation. My friend had a roomy graveled T-shaped driveway. I was able to park level without boards, on my second try of parking. We had fun visiting. I loved this self-contained idea of the motorhome, though my kind amigo plugged me into 110. I travel with a heavy duty 110 cord and an adapter for my 30amp cord.
After years of living on boats afloat with solar and 12 volt systems, I practically have all my 110 and 12 volt needs memorized, so I don't trip a breaker, when I am on this electrical arrangement.
It was really hot and humid, so I suffered with air-conditioning.
Whoa! Is this peach on steroids or what?
But tonight, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, it is oh so pleasantly cool. I have all the windows in the motorhome open. Fresh mountain breezes pass through.
As we near the mega peach on steroids, it's really Gaffney's Water Tower in South Carolina. Andie McDowell grew up in Gaffney. I first saw this peachy phenonmenon several decades ago. At one point, a new artist was commissioned to repaint the peach. He painted it flesh colored. From certain angles, it looked like a big butt! Finally Gaffney commissioned another artist, who this time rendered a beautiful lifelike peach.
I look around the sparsely populated park. I feel sorry for the folks closed up tight in their fancy travel trailers, and big rig diesel pushers. I love the fresh air and am thrilled to be away from the air conditioning.
Now, I can get the new filters put in. The old ones are a mess and on their last breath. They were washable and reusable, but I suspect they are the original ones. Now wait a minute, how did fresh mountain breezes translate to work?
I realize the motorhome needs a good cleaning. Again.
Now I am cleaning up for two, what with the puppy. We get a little too comfy and cozy, sometimes the housework slides cause we are playing ball or driving or I am writing.
Harley has wore himself out finally. He is snoozing on the pillows, next to me while I sit on the settee writing.
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