Wednesday, May 18, 2011


It's just mind boggling to me that it's late May in Georgia and I woke up to 44F degree weather. That is 12F degrees above freezing! Lawdy mercy, what is this weather coming to?   I'm in the south, in the foothills, barely 700 feet above sea level. 

This morning the smoke on the water was just rolling around like bowling balls.       I was mesmerized, but too c-c-cold to go out and photograph it. Actually, a video would be nice. Does that make me a fair weather photographer?

Last night I had the presence of mind to close the windows, turning the heat on low before bedtime. It's a good thing too, because the heater did raise it to 64F degrees inside the motorhome by morning. 

Harley has claimed my afghan again. Even at 64F degrees, he is pretty cold. Matter of fact, he didn't want to take his sweater off last night, so he slept right in it, which  I don't blame him a bit. We played chase, fetch, kangaroo, tug-of-war, keep-away plus tickle-the-dog-belly, while we were in bed. Puppy likes to play at bedtime, then he lets out a big sigh, curls up and it out of it for the next 10 hours. I am so envious. 

His toys are falling apart. Raggedy, dog eared, torn and ripped; they show the signs of a happy doggy hard at work play. 

Some super smart creative creature has invented a new doggy toy, called a Chewber Tug N Toss,  that  is reputed to be indestructible. 

Yes, an INDESTRUCTIBLE dog toy.  What a concept! 

I love the idea. It flies like a frisbee, is strong enough for ruff tug-of-war play,  withstands chronic chewing and doubles as a dog dish. For those of you who take your canine kids on RV trips or out to play at parks, this is the ultimate compact multi-functional doggy accompaniment. A toy that does so much and doubles as a water dish is super uber handy in my book.  

Harley dog is saving up his meager allowance to get one.  Probably take him all year, at the rate he saves. 
I just love the look on this doggy model's face with his Chewber Tug N Toss toy. More details at this link for all you pet parents.  

One annoying thing on my lengthy  wish list was a new sewer hose. Notice I said was. 

Now that sounds exciting. New sewer hose. Oh whoopee.  *sigh*

The sewer hose that came with the motorhome is probably OEM and 17+ years old. At some point I was in a campground where the sewer was placed in a very strange spot, nearly 30 feet from the electric and water hookups.  I couldn't reach it with my hose. The parttime park handyman turned out to be a hoarder.  Actually we became fast friends when I hired him to install the sink faucet that was about to make me certifiably insane.  My arms were just 2 inches too short, to complete the job without dismantling the entire wheel estate to get to it. I knew a plumber would charge a fancy fortune for such a little task. 

I timidly inquired of the friendly park manager if she knew of a good old handyman type that I could engage for a reasonable fee. She cheerfully announced she would send over the park handyman when he finished their work at noon.

He came over, then asked if I minded if he ran home (he lived in the park) to let his wife know he had a side job to do. He said perhaps I would like to meet her. So I invited him to bring her back with him. We had a fun afternoon, as she loved dogs, and Harley had barely been with me for a week.  Harley had just discovered the joy of toys, so he was busy showing off.  

The wonderful handyman finally got the cantankerous kitchen sink faucet installed, as he had nice long lanky arms and better tools than I, to get the task done.  His fee was more than reasonable, so I tipped him too. That tip sure went a long ways in the next week or so I was there. 

One day he produced a used extra sewer hose. He refused payment.  I joined the two together to make one long hose. Now I could reach the campground sewer.  He also provided a few other used but handy items I was in need of, again refusing payment.  He had enough stuff at his own RV to start a used RV parts supply.  

I had to spend several days in training for a job that later turned out to be a royal scam. His wife begged me to let her puppy-sit while I was gone, so Harley went to their home for doggy daycare, several days in a row, where he was thoroughly spoiled rotten.  

Recently, when I arrived at my workamping volunteer job in April, the sewer connection is so close, I really needed to separate the two connected hoses, reverting to  one short hose. You can tell THAT was on the top of my work list *tee hee hee*. So over the weeks, it didn't get done.  Gee, I wonder why...

One day I carefully inspected it,realizing part of the hose is on it's last legs, suffering from sun rays that have made the hose brittle, ready to split open. Matter of fact, I've had to shorten the hose several times in the past, to cut off sections that were leaky or about to be leaky. It seems my sewer hose was slowly getting shorter and shorter. 

There is almost nothing worse than a cracked sewer hose. Eww...

Still I put off the chore of separating the two hoses.  It's not a fun pastime by any means. 

Well, here came an angel yesterday. You just never know when your angel will appear!

The park sent out their maintenance crew to mow down my postage stamp of a  yard.  The rest of the lot is thick woods.  Harley dog loves his little yard. To him, it seems rather huge. With his long tether, he can race his tiny legs to fetch thrown frisbees, play ball and wrestle with his teddy bear. When the guy on the oversized riding lawnmower showed up, I ran around collecting puppy and all his toys, to come inside. He did not like this noisy machine invading his play place. He ran back and forth in the motorhome from window to window barking his head off, fussing at the lawn mower rider, who was blissfully wearing thick headphones listening to rock and roll. 

Eventually he left. Harley went outside to sniff over his new mown yard suspiciously. Maybe he doesn't much care for the maintenance guy because last time he was here, he ran over BoBo, chopping his head right off. 

BoBo is, or was, Harley's favorite toy. I remember the strange mournful look Harley gave me, when he saw his beloved BoBo, ripped into pieces. 
Harley and his beloved BoBo, in happier days.
Here they are ready for travel. 
Since BoBo didn't have on a safety harness, Harley was holding him tightly. This was Harley's favorite buddy (besides me!)
Poor old BoBo was tragically beheaded and ripped up by the lawn mower a few weeks ago. 
R.I.P. BoBo

Ditto for the bright orange frisbee, that too (two? LOL!)  was chopped up into hundreds of  pieces that I spent nearly  an hour picking up. We were returning from a hike when we noticed the damages. I guess the guy never saw the toys. (Is eyesight a requirement for this type of government job?)

We all know how a bright day glow orange frisbee blends right in with green grass. I guess he never saw it. BoBo is green though, however he is, um was, a bright almost dayglow green. He's bigger than the puppy, just that his legs are, um were, shorter.  But I am sure it's not this guy's job to clear a lot before he mows it down with his big riding mower. 

Later in the afternoon,  another maintenance crew came driving up.  I had to lunge for Harley, who was racing down the driveway, dragging his tether eager to see these new folks, totally clueless to the danger of moving vehicles. 

To my surprise, the man climbed out of the truck cab, carrying a brand new RV sewer hose complete with all new fittings for both ends. He said the guy on the lawnmower ran mine over breaking it, so they bought me a new one!  

I had no idea they had broken the old one an hour earlier. What an angel!

How nice of him to do that for me. Well, cross that item off my burgeoning wish list.  Harley was trying to ask him about a BoBo replacement, but the man didn't understand little Harley. 


My camping chair is falling apart, another item not likely to make it to the top of the wish list anytime soon. I've been so careful with it, but I guess it's just cheap and not built to last, but it's not even a year old!  Maybe I should hide it in the tall grass before they mow again...

The sewer hose replacement is ironic, because I was at one campground, where the grumpy maintenance guy was always yelling at people. One day he yelled at me, "You know, if I chop up your sewer hose with my weed whacker, we're not responsible for it!"  I remember thinking at the time, this was an odd thing to say. I mean all RV-ers travel with soft flexible sewer hoses and this was an RV campground with sewer hookups.  Seems to me, it's not good for repeat business,  to go around with your weed whacker busting up RV sewer hoses. Especially when you're in the RV camping business. 

Which now I wonder (back to the present)  was it the lawn guy that busted the sewer hose or the weed whacker guy that came by with him?  Well, I don't care, but I'm just THRILLED about the new sewer hose with new connections. 

Hey, it doesn't take much to make me happy...  

Back to the former place with the grumpy maintenance guy...  You would think the place would start to stink up if an enthusiastic weed whacker started chopping up  all the campers' sewer hoses. I countered with "Let the weeds grow!" because at the time, the weeds were only a few short inches. That particular place didn't have any grass, but it had plenty of weeds growing at all the camping lots. The maintenance man just scowled at me, but he didn't bust up my sewer hose.   Thank goodness. 

I learned later, through the grapevine, that the couple was hired to work at the park together. The husband had been after his wife to get a job. Apparently, he wasn't planning to  work himself, but I guess he forgot to mention that to her. So she found a job alright, one that wanted a couple to live on site and work for pay. The wife loved her office position, but her husband hated his maintenance job. 

Watch out, what you ask for...  you might get more than you wanted.  

But what a shame and a waste, to go through life hating your work. 

As for me, I am just positively ecstatic!  Over a sewer hose...

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