Plip-Plop Drip-Drop

I've been out of sorts lately.  Nothing new there, one day the brain and body works fine, the next, I'm on a different planet. 

Friday I dreamed I was back on my boat, sleeping under the open hatch when it started raining. I kept reaching up to close the hatch, like I had done thousands of time, in my sleep aboard the sailboat I called home. 

Scattered rain showers are the norm in the Caribbean. Often they are gone in under 5 minutes. So while living aboard, I learned to close the hatch over my vee berth in my sleep. When it became stuffy inside, it would signal my sleepy brain to semiconsciously  open the hatch back up, taking in the tradewinds,  now that the brief shower had passed on. 

But Friday it kept raining on me. I kept tossing and turning to avoid the rain, but the bunk was getting wetter.  I was sure I had closed the hatch.  At least twice.

I woke up astonished I was not on board my boat at all. I was in my motorhome. It was pouring down rain inside, right on my bed.   

A leak. My roof is leaking!  

Like a cat sprung into action after napping, I was suddenly very wide awake. 

Horrified. 

In March 2010,  I paid a small fortune to have my roof coated in rubber paint.  Five coats of the stuff, plus complete caulking.

Friday.  

It's Friday on Memorial Day Weekend. I frantically called the RV place that did my roof. I am guessing it needs another caulking job. My cell phone service kept going in and out, plus their number seemed permanently busy.  

I went outside to climb the skinny built-in vertical rear  ladder on the RV to have a look-see at the roof. My body would not cooperate. My arms seemed too weak to climb the ladder. I made it up a few treads, felt terrified I was about to lose my grip and  fall backwards.  I made my way back down, aching and confused.  

What's wrong with my roof?  What's wrong with my arms?  Which is more urgent?

Inside I tried to make more phone calls, but the cell phone would not operate correctly. I called customer service and was told to drive 60 miles one-way in my motorhome to come pick up a new Sims Card. *SIGH*  No time for that sort of foolishness. At least I can use my computer phone via Skype.

Searching the internet for Mobile RV repair turned up one source nearby. But his regular phone on the webpage was a wrong number. The cell phone listed rang up  a sleepy person at 1 in the afternoon, who gave me another number and name to call. At that number,  a voice mail instructed me to leave a message.  No one returned my calls.

I know there is a Mobile RV place south of here, I saw their sign last June, I spoke to them by phone back then. I thought I had their info in my address book, but my old computer died since then. I had to revert to backups, and I guess my address backup was a few weeks older.  I can't find their info, they had no webpage then, I tried to sell them a cheap webapge, but they  claimed they didn't need one. *SIGH*.  Now I needed them, but couldn't find them. 

Meanwhile I kept trying the original RV repair shop that did my roof, 65 miles away from here. Finally the phone rang, but it kept disconnecting. I think they were overworked.  Perhaps they were  just hanging up the phone as soon as it rang. It's a very small place. I could imagine lots of RV-ers trying to get thier rigs ready before Memorial Day Weekend. Maybe they had chaos on their hands. They don't have a webpage either, and no email. 

I must be a lousy salesman, I keep trying to offer small businesses a complete webpage for a ridiculously low fee. They all seem to think, that "people find them"  and therefore they don't need any information stuck up on the newfangled internet. 

But these days in times, if you have a tiny business and you aren't on the internet, then you might as well be winking in the dark at your secret  love obsession. You know exactly what you are  doing, but no one else does. 

I am truly amazed at the astonishing wild flowers I find while out walking with my dog. What's so cool is that a long-time reader, Drew, sent me a new used camera recently, that I used to take these pictures. How cool is that?  Thank you Drew!  

I went for several  long walks with the dog throughout the day. I was so frustrated about my roof. I needed to calm down, walking would help. I had just figured out how to make Drew's camera work. That's why there is a wild flower interlude above. 


While walking, my cell phone decided to operate.  I called a handy  friend who is always complaining about lack of money.  Like so many, he is having a rough time getting by.  I am sure he could caulk all the seams, plus I know he has a big tall step ladder that would make the work easier, we could repair it as a team.  Why pay strangers when you can pay a friend in need, helping them along?  


Much to my surprise, he suggested I just buy a tarp and deal with it later. Well that is easier said than done. Then it dawned on me. Perhaps he didn't want this job. Maybe his situation wasn't as dire as the picture he painted. 


I can't see busting up camp to drive my RV to go waste money on  a huge tarp. It's not a one-person job to put it on, even if I did that. Think about a camper that is  28 feet long, 11 feet high and almost 8 feet wide. Now think about one short person trying to toss a big tarp over it.  


Hilarious!  


It doesn't fix the problem anyhow. It's like putting a whole box of Bandaids on a broken leg. The effort and expense is there, but the end result is far less than desirable. Of course there was the time I suffered with a broken leg for 3 days before medical help arrived, another story altogether. 


So I've spent the last few days, searching for help to no avail. It is a holiday weekend. I've also done my sun worshiping dance repeatedly to ward off the rains. At least that has worked fine. 


I've also tortured myself for three days,  trying to do workouts on the rear ladder.  I'm getting close to making it to the top. I keep willing my body to cooperate. Not sure what I am going to do, once I make it up on the roof, but I keep trying.



Ladder phobia. 


Trying to overcome ladder phobia. As a small child my father convinced me to climb a ladder to the roof of the house. He wanted help cleaning out the gutters. I was only 4 or 5 years old.  He was supposed to be holding the ladder firmly in place while I climbed up first. I was scared. Very scared.  But just as I reached the top of the ladder, with his encouragement, something dreadful happened. 


I lay on the ground, dazed and confused, horrible pain shooting through my little body. I wanted to scream out, but I could not. My breath had literally been knocked out of me. I lay there with the ladder on top of me, my mouth wide open, but no sound came out.  It seemed forever before my lungs filled with life giving oxygen again and the excruciating pain subsided. My father moved the ladder off of me, as my mother ran outside, pure terror written across her face.  She was a big fluffy woman. I buried my tears in her comforting hugs. Later the family doctor pronounced me OK, nothing broken, just bruised and banged up. I would live to see another day. 


Life is funny. 


I miss my sailboat. I would have already crab-walked across the deck, caulking everything.  The job would have been done by now. But here I am on day four, trying to physically and emotionally scramble up that ladder while the puppy anxiously looks at my curious maneuvers.  Maybe the RV shop will start answering their phone on Tuesday, after the holiday. Maybe they will make room for me to break camp and come see them for urgent repairs. 


Maybe I should get this rig shipshape for sailing the highways, in case that miracle happens. 

Good news!


Puppy and I have now (TODAY!) celebrated our first year together!  It seems like only yesterday, this starving little hitchhiker climbed aboard.  He has been great companionship, always enthusiastic about where ever we end up next,  (but he's truly lousy at map reading.)

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