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The underwear failure. How embarrassing. I recently wrote about my British friend who had underwear failure in Road Town, Tortola.
Today, it happened to me. I took Harley on a long walk after I got dressed. First I had to have some coffee, then I put on nice clean undies that seemed just fine, topped that with a casual dress, my tiny purse woven by my friend, then added the dog and the leash coupled with a pair of cheap walking sandals.
We get about as far from our campsite as possible, when I notice my underwear elastic has gave up the ghost. My undies are slowly sliding down my hips as we walk. People are everywhere. I am wearing a long casual summer dress. I have the sudden urge to tug them back up, but how to do that discreetly when you are walking a bouncing 5 pound puppy, who is eager to draw attention to himself?
He wants to be a star! The world is his stage and my undies are creeping past my hips towards my thighs. I am mortified. I try to casually put a hand on my lower hip and secretly tug at the undies through my dress and will them back up.
Now my undies are lopsided. So I switch the leash over to the other hand, trying to cleverly tug that side up. We begin walking rapidly back towards my camper. I want to throw these undies in the garbage and get a fresh pair. They weren't that old at all, but there was the incident with the high heat dryer that nearly fried all my clothes. I guess these undies were part of that wash, and now they seek revenge against me.
I walk rapidly back towards the camper, trying to hold the energetic puppy on his leash with one hand and casually hold my hand on my other hip, to prevent my undies from just falling right down around my ankles.
I couldn't believe this was happening to me. But it did. Meanwhile, as we are making a hasty retreat, Harley dog, wants to meet everybody and personally greet them and show off his tricks. I am reduced to a grinning idiot, praying my undies don't give way. Friendly folks keep stopping me to coo over the puppy or chat. I try to be polite, but all I want to do is get back home to fix my wardrobe malfunction.
We made it back to the motorhome, after numerous delays. I've never been so grateful to make it back! I dispose of the nearly new undies, my embarrassing wardrobe malfunction with a good riddance! I guess I unintentionally entertained the other campers too, with my strange poised walk of trying to keep up with the hyperactive puppy and saving grace. *Sigh*
I just love this campground. Loads of friendly folks. The hosts have set the tone for this to be a lovely spot. Just about every spot is taken with happy people of all ages and their dogs. I haven't seen any cats, but there must be some around, probably indoors.
I am in the older section, which is wonderful. Lots of mature trees with flowers and shrubs planted whimsically. There are two lakes for fishing and swimming. The ambiance is decidedly relaxed.
We're parked under a big shade tree. Floyd, the host, showed me to my camping spot. It was full of cars. I couldn't believe the tiny spot was going to hold me. Floyd asked around, got the vehicles moved. The spot still seemed awfully small.
As I backed in, I was mere inches from the oak tree, and the short post holding the water and electric with only an inch to spare to not hit the picnic table on the other side. It took two tries to get me in the tiny spot, nice and neat. I was extremely grateful for Floyd's help. He announced next, "Let's see what we can do to level you up!"
I've never had a host offer that before. Most just hand you a map to go find your spot on your own and deal with it.
Floyd was impressed I had boards. He said many campers arrived with none. He was patient while we tried out two different configurations. The second one leveled me up near perfectly. (The boards are put under the tires.) Being level, keeps the refrigerator extremely happy. It doesn't run crooked. The circulating gasses tend to clog. Once it starts clogging up, there is permanent damage.
On the other hand, bouncing down the highway, while the refrigerator is silently operating on propane, keeps the refrigerant gasses from stopping up the works. We had quite a bumpy ride getting here, with numerous detours.
Matter of fact, the campground we ended up in, is not at all where we were headed. But we had spent two hours on a detour. This was well past my drive time. We were only 12 miles from the park when we ended up on this tour-of-Ohio detour which lasted over 50 miles and we seemed no closer to our intended campground.
I was wore out. Puppy was frustrated, he had been in the car seat too long. Sure, we had stopped for brief walks, but we had planned to be parked much earlier. I pulled over, fired up the generator, because the computer laptop was dead, I can't turn it off, it's dying a slow death and the batteries were near dead. Anyhow, I plugged it in, got the air card working and went on the Internet. I pinpointed our location on a google map, more or less, then sought campgrounds. I was 6 miles from this one.
Calling them up, I found out they had room for me, I verified final directions, then amazingly, 12 minutes later, we were crossing the narrow graveled damn at the entrance., between two lakes.
The temperature has been perfect, with loads of outdoor fellowship at numerous campsites. Every site is different, with an odd collection of travel trailers, fifth wheels and a few Class C's like mine, (a motorhome built on a van cab and chassis.)
This isn't the spot for the ostentatious mega diesel pushers. I guess they are at the RV Resorts, designed for them. I've only seen one here, and it wasn't that big. The one lane roads are gravel, the camp spots grassy with just the minimum gravel pad underneath. Most come with a paved patio pad, a fire ring in the garden and a picnic table.
It appears some folks have rented spots long term, then customized the garden and patio to their liking. I could easily spend a month here.
Now that I study the one lane roads, i wonder how I exit the park. There surely isn't room to pass on the narrow road entrance, across the dirt damn between the lakes.
Harley and I have taken several walks around the grounds, I get caught up in studying and absorbing. Kids ride by on their bicycles, followed by a family of dog walkers.
It appeared to be mom, dad, granny, son, daughter, and aunt. Each had a radically different dog, from the super tiny, even smaller than Harley's five pounds, to the macho 150 pounder that could have been part wolf. What a great family treat, to walk your dogs together several times a day.
There apparently isn't a pet limit here either. One patio had a small fence all around here. The family sat outside visiting, and so did their four dogs of various breeds.
As we walk around, Harley wants to be the social butterfly. He wants to meet every dog and any human that will give him more than a one second eye contact. He is in his puppy mood. He jumps and shows off he can do 360's, spinning his body completely around in the air.
He doesn't bark at everything we go past now. But he does strain all his might against his harness, tugging at the leash, as hard as he can, to go meet other dogs. He doesn't care if they are huge, he wants to play or be their buddy, or tag them. More than a few of the 80 pound and up dogs, seem totally bemused by this little rat in a dog costume, jumping up and tagging them playfully; "You're it!"
When we get back to our campsite an hour or so later, Harley pretends he doesn't notice and continues onwards. He loves his walks and never wants them to end. I go up on our patio, hooking him to his tether. He immediately gulps down water from his little bowl. Then he playfully drags the bowl off, spilling the water. He piles the bowl up with his other toys outside.
I grab his tug-of-war toy and we play fight with it, while he shakes it wildly whenever he can snatch it away from me.
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