Driving down the back roads of Ohio There are signs for everything, very often the bump has it's own sign. This one did not.
Somebody in government in Ohio just loves signs. They are everywhere. Ohio has some curvy roads. On each and every curve there are numerous arrow signs in huge bright yellow with black arrows.
The same road, will change the speed limit from 70 to 55 to 35 or 50, maybe 20, sometimes 25, could be 60 or 65, even 45 or 40, perhaps 30. I've seen 10 and 15 mile per hour signs. Even 5 mph. Seems like they take their speed limit and their curves, super serious. I don't know why the speed limits aren't set at 2 or 3 speeds and be done with it. What's wrong with SLOW, MEDIUM and PEDAL TO THE METAL?
But I digress.
I hit the bump, the blacktop road had changed levels abruptly. It was so smooth, I didn't see it, and there wasn't a sign. Amazing, there are signs for everything else on the road. Including the bumps. But this bump sign was MIA.
So, without warning, I hit the bump then immediately heard crash, thud, thump, clink, rattle, bash.
I looked at the rearview mirror on the windshield (wind screen) just in time to see that my refrigerator was regurgitating all over the floor. I couldn't see the floor. But I could see the refrigerator door violently banging around.
I thought I shut it really well. The spring lock isn't working right. The freezer one works fine. It's one of those things on my list of maintenance items. Like a boat, a motorhome needs constant attention.
I miss living and sailing on board my old boat and all the wonderful yachts I used to work aboard, while traveling. I used to work from sunup until nearly midnight on those private and charter yachts with barely a 30 minute nap to break up the long work hours. If my hair needed French Braiding, then I had to get up an extra half hour, to comb it out perfectly, then set about braiding it. While most other females working on yachts, cut theirs short, I kept growing mine out. The French Braid kept it from tangling in sheets (sheets are ropes used for taming the sails) as well as out of my eyes when at the helm. Besides, it's a traditional way to do things. Wearing braided hair on a sailboat.
Where has my energy gone now? I want it back. I miss my old energetic get-a-lot-done each and every day. Now I push myself, but my body pushes back in protest.
Somebody in government in Ohio just loves signs. They are everywhere. Ohio has some curvy roads. On each and every curve there are numerous arrow signs in huge bright yellow with black arrows.
The same road, will change the speed limit from 70 to 55 to 35 or 50, maybe 20, sometimes 25, could be 60 or 65, even 45 or 40, perhaps 30. I've seen 10 and 15 mile per hour signs. Even 5 mph. Seems like they take their speed limit and their curves, super serious. I don't know why the speed limits aren't set at 2 or 3 speeds and be done with it. What's wrong with SLOW, MEDIUM and PEDAL TO THE METAL?
But I digress.
I hit the bump, the blacktop road had changed levels abruptly. It was so smooth, I didn't see it, and there wasn't a sign. Amazing, there are signs for everything else on the road. Including the bumps. But this bump sign was MIA.
So, without warning, I hit the bump then immediately heard crash, thud, thump, clink, rattle, bash.
I looked at the rearview mirror on the windshield (wind screen) just in time to see that my refrigerator was regurgitating all over the floor. I couldn't see the floor. But I could see the refrigerator door violently banging around.
I thought I shut it really well. The spring lock isn't working right. The freezer one works fine. It's one of those things on my list of maintenance items. Like a boat, a motorhome needs constant attention.
I miss living and sailing on board my old boat and all the wonderful yachts I used to work aboard, while traveling. I used to work from sunup until nearly midnight on those private and charter yachts with barely a 30 minute nap to break up the long work hours. If my hair needed French Braiding, then I had to get up an extra half hour, to comb it out perfectly, then set about braiding it. While most other females working on yachts, cut theirs short, I kept growing mine out. The French Braid kept it from tangling in sheets (sheets are ropes used for taming the sails) as well as out of my eyes when at the helm. Besides, it's a traditional way to do things. Wearing braided hair on a sailboat.
Where has my energy gone now? I want it back. I miss my old energetic get-a-lot-done each and every day. Now I push myself, but my body pushes back in protest.
My face has been swollen since Saturday, four days now. Very frustrating. No idea why it swelled up. My energy level is low. I was recently around high energy people and I felt aggravated with my medical mess.
While the refrigerator was banging around, I looked for a spot to pull over. There were no shoulders on the road to utilize for a brief stop. Besides, I prefer to get completely off the road, even if just for a minute. Finally I came upon a near empty parking lot and pulled in.
I shifted out of gear to park, put on the brake, told Harley, who was on a short tether, to be a good boy, then I turned him loose. We inspected the mess together.
We saw a small kitchen floor, full of food and an overturned square plastic basket. The puppy gave me that "look" that says "I didn't do THAT!" Amazingly, the reefer had only thrown one basket of food out plus a half-gallon plastic bottle of Apple Juice. The Blue Cheese salad dressing, the real stuff, not the imitation, was stored in a glass jar that amazingly, had not broken open. Neither had the Vidalia Onion Relish, also in a glass jar. Phew. Angels everywhere.
Inside the refrigerator, the remaining plastic baskets, sat on their shelves with food in them. Perhaps when I hit the bump so hard, the Apple Juice was thrown against the refrigerator door, causing it to open.
Maybe it was human error, or in other words, I've learned from the newfangled corporate speak," the human interface device failed to work correctly".
While the refrigerator was banging around, I looked for a spot to pull over. There were no shoulders on the road to utilize for a brief stop. Besides, I prefer to get completely off the road, even if just for a minute. Finally I came upon a near empty parking lot and pulled in.
I shifted out of gear to park, put on the brake, told Harley, who was on a short tether, to be a good boy, then I turned him loose. We inspected the mess together.
We saw a small kitchen floor, full of food and an overturned square plastic basket. The puppy gave me that "look" that says "I didn't do THAT!" Amazingly, the reefer had only thrown one basket of food out plus a half-gallon plastic bottle of Apple Juice. The Blue Cheese salad dressing, the real stuff, not the imitation, was stored in a glass jar that amazingly, had not broken open. Neither had the Vidalia Onion Relish, also in a glass jar. Phew. Angels everywhere.
Inside the refrigerator, the remaining plastic baskets, sat on their shelves with food in them. Perhaps when I hit the bump so hard, the Apple Juice was thrown against the refrigerator door, causing it to open.
Maybe it was human error, or in other words, I've learned from the newfangled corporate speak," the human interface device failed to work correctly".
We've had a "safety critical event".
When I bought the motorhome, I was worried about food dumping out; after parking. I imagined opening the door, and having it throw up food on my toes. I thought when I carefully measured and bought these rectangle plastic baskets, which fit perfectly, wasting no space, they are open on all five sides, so the coolness can circulate easy enough, it would save my toes.
This is the first time the refrigerator has spilled while driving. Each time I set out, I think I have put everything away and secured any loose items for traveling. But there always seems to be a rattle or thud or KER-BANG.
Same for a sailboat.
It happens.
Yesterday, we parked at our new campsite, on old Indian ground, a rather rustic place, where nature has been allowed to decorate at whim. I took the puppy dog, for a nice long walk to look the place over. We didn't go that far, because we had so much to see and explore, that we made the same loop, several times. Harley has a penchant for walking out his new campgrounds. Even though later, he is tethered to his string between walks. He still loves his walks.
Monkey on a string.
My Danish friend often called him that. Harley can have this goofy face at times, plus his wild looking fur that is growing out nicely albeit at odd angles, some straight, some curley, coupled with his fondness for doing rapid impromptu tricks, in order to gain love and attention. He wants to play with the world, be it people, dogs, cats, butterflies, bugs or just his toys. Lately, the stuffed kitty has become his favorite comfort toy. He has been coming to bed, dragging his stuffed kitty along. My bed is getting full, what with all the pillows I like, the dog, his stuffed buddies, the chopping board that doubles as a bed table, the cotton comforter, the electric controls to the mattress warmer, the loose cord from the controls, when it is unplugged and so on. So what's another stuffed animal... The Bo-Bo twins are often in bed with us too. They are these long skinny cartoonish stuffed dogs he loves to play with and often brings to bed, after fetching his fluffy kitty.
Harley is working on becoming quite the four-legged athlete. His vigorous activities include Frisbee, football, softball, tennis and golf.
He is so energetic and so tiny. I've been trying to overcome his initial malnourishment, when I rescued him. He was well loved and super socialized, just fed a lousy diet that left him underweight with thin dull fur. He gets a great diet now, with huge variety. That's because people keep feeding him treats. I monitor that they are protein laden and suitable for him. His past diet, as I was informed by the prior caretakers was Corn Chips and Doritos. Now besides, vitamin enriched puppy chow, both in dry cereal form as well as the wet stuff in cans and pouches, he has also tried and loved assorted healthy doggy treats, as well as steak, pork chop,hamburger, hot dog, sausage, cheese, eggs, milk, bar-b-que beef and Canadian bacon. I don't normally buy or eat meat, but we've been visiting friends and going to picnics. He eats so little, though he astonished me recently, by eating an entire hamburger patty.
When I bought the motorhome, I was worried about food dumping out; after parking. I imagined opening the door, and having it throw up food on my toes. I thought when I carefully measured and bought these rectangle plastic baskets, which fit perfectly, wasting no space, they are open on all five sides, so the coolness can circulate easy enough, it would save my toes.
This is the first time the refrigerator has spilled while driving. Each time I set out, I think I have put everything away and secured any loose items for traveling. But there always seems to be a rattle or thud or KER-BANG.
Same for a sailboat.
It happens.
Yesterday, we parked at our new campsite, on old Indian ground, a rather rustic place, where nature has been allowed to decorate at whim. I took the puppy dog, for a nice long walk to look the place over. We didn't go that far, because we had so much to see and explore, that we made the same loop, several times. Harley has a penchant for walking out his new campgrounds. Even though later, he is tethered to his string between walks. He still loves his walks.
Monkey on a string.
My Danish friend often called him that. Harley can have this goofy face at times, plus his wild looking fur that is growing out nicely albeit at odd angles, some straight, some curley, coupled with his fondness for doing rapid impromptu tricks, in order to gain love and attention. He wants to play with the world, be it people, dogs, cats, butterflies, bugs or just his toys. Lately, the stuffed kitty has become his favorite comfort toy. He has been coming to bed, dragging his stuffed kitty along. My bed is getting full, what with all the pillows I like, the dog, his stuffed buddies, the chopping board that doubles as a bed table, the cotton comforter, the electric controls to the mattress warmer, the loose cord from the controls, when it is unplugged and so on. So what's another stuffed animal... The Bo-Bo twins are often in bed with us too. They are these long skinny cartoonish stuffed dogs he loves to play with and often brings to bed, after fetching his fluffy kitty.
Harley is working on becoming quite the four-legged athlete. His vigorous activities include Frisbee, football, softball, tennis and golf.
He is so energetic and so tiny. I've been trying to overcome his initial malnourishment, when I rescued him. He was well loved and super socialized, just fed a lousy diet that left him underweight with thin dull fur. He gets a great diet now, with huge variety. That's because people keep feeding him treats. I monitor that they are protein laden and suitable for him. His past diet, as I was informed by the prior caretakers was Corn Chips and Doritos. Now besides, vitamin enriched puppy chow, both in dry cereal form as well as the wet stuff in cans and pouches, he has also tried and loved assorted healthy doggy treats, as well as steak, pork chop,hamburger, hot dog, sausage, cheese, eggs, milk, bar-b-que beef and Canadian bacon. I don't normally buy or eat meat, but we've been visiting friends and going to picnics. He eats so little, though he astonished me recently, by eating an entire hamburger patty.
I guess it wore him out, he took a long nap afterwards.
So I bought him a little barbell. Now he can do weight lifting. Mainly, he loves, I mean just adores, the squeaky in the barbell. He pumps away at his red, white and blue barbell, trying to make it squeak just as loud and as often, as he possibly can.
He is super jealous of the kids with skateboards and bicycles and other things with wheels. I was thinking maybe he would enjoy Skateboarding, but he is so tiny, they don't make skateboards that small.
What he needs, is a roller skate, with a tiny skateboard on top. I have no idea how to fashion that for him, but he still aspires to have his own wheels one day. Maybe I'll figure out how to make him one. But I have so much to do otherwise, making Harley a little skateboard, is not high on the list.
A group of bikers and I went camping for the weekend. On the way back, we stopped at this huge surplus store. It was a warehouse that had been chopped up into smaller spaces, with wide open doors, so it wandered around, almost like a maze. We all got lost, looking at the eclectic myriad of surplus stuff for sale.
Little Harley picked out a pre made bungee cord with carabineers attached on either end. Now he is bungee jumping!
It was no fun bungee jumping on a clothesline, it just didn't have enough elasticity. Sometimes when throwing one of his balls or the Frisbee, it would land within inches of his tethered leash. Harley would jerk himself forward, trying to stretch the tether to reach the errant toy. Sometimes he would try plowing up the ground with his nails, to gain momentum. Now the bungee cord, allows him to spring out and go those few extra inches, then it springs him back. Too funny!
So I bought him a little barbell. Now he can do weight lifting. Mainly, he loves, I mean just adores, the squeaky in the barbell. He pumps away at his red, white and blue barbell, trying to make it squeak just as loud and as often, as he possibly can.
He is super jealous of the kids with skateboards and bicycles and other things with wheels. I was thinking maybe he would enjoy Skateboarding, but he is so tiny, they don't make skateboards that small.
What he needs, is a roller skate, with a tiny skateboard on top. I have no idea how to fashion that for him, but he still aspires to have his own wheels one day. Maybe I'll figure out how to make him one. But I have so much to do otherwise, making Harley a little skateboard, is not high on the list.
A group of bikers and I went camping for the weekend. On the way back, we stopped at this huge surplus store. It was a warehouse that had been chopped up into smaller spaces, with wide open doors, so it wandered around, almost like a maze. We all got lost, looking at the eclectic myriad of surplus stuff for sale.
Little Harley picked out a pre made bungee cord with carabineers attached on either end. Now he is bungee jumping!
It was no fun bungee jumping on a clothesline, it just didn't have enough elasticity. Sometimes when throwing one of his balls or the Frisbee, it would land within inches of his tethered leash. Harley would jerk himself forward, trying to stretch the tether to reach the errant toy. Sometimes he would try plowing up the ground with his nails, to gain momentum. Now the bungee cord, allows him to spring out and go those few extra inches, then it springs him back. Too funny!
I've also utilized his bungee cord on the leash. That helps us both, when he suddenly sees something he absolutely must inspect post haste, he doesn't jerk my shoulder out of the socket. It was the only bungee cord in the store, made up with the carabineers instead of the standard S hooks. Harley has a good eye.
Spoiled? Nooooooooooo... Just a four legged athletic machine.
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