Cargo Shifts

I should know this after two years of driving my motorhome to run errands or relocate. Cargo shifts. But still I forget. After parking from what seemed like a sedate trip, I opened up the overhead cabinet in the kitchen.  A box of tea bags came tumbling out. Suddenly a mini hurricane appeared out of nowhere, spreading those tea bags far and wide. I eventually gathered them all up, being forced to toss some in the garbage because a few landed in a sink holding dirty dishes. Ugh.


I put the box away.  I needed to attend to another medical mess appointment and run some errands. When I turned the ignition key, a woman spoke up behind me saying "What are you doing today?". I nearly jumped out of my skin as did the dog, who began barking ferociously at the woman. 


Then we realized, she was on the radio. The speakers had been switched to play in back, not in front, so her voice appeared to be in back of the motorhome. The dog and I calmed down, then drove to our appointment. 


The doctor asked me a lot of strange questions. One of them was "Did you come here alone?" I said "No."  He asked "Who did you come with?"  I replied "My dog."  He asked "Who drove?"  


After a pregnant pause I said "Well, um, the dog drove while I barked off the directions."


At that point, the doctor slowly looked up from his clipboard and gave me a grunt. 


Somehow we eventually got around the part where he found out I was utilizing alternative treatments. He pointed out these were not FDA approved. I said "Well, yes, I know, and that's why they are called alternative treatments...  Just because some bureaucrat in Washington hasn't sanctified the treatment, does not mean it is bad."


He grunted. 


At this point, I began to nervously look around the walls for his diplomas. There were none, just some lovely paintings in cheap frames. As tough as it is to graduate from med school and do the grueling intern work, most doctors happily plaster their walls with diplomas (in expensive frames too.) 


Finally when I was released, we went shopping. That's because Dollar General was having their $5 coupon day. Spend $25 and get $5 off. Since they sell food, camping and household supplies, it's a really good bargain for my erratic budget. Amazingly my cart added up to $25.50 and with the $5 off, I only paid $20.50  Then we noticed we were only three doors down from a Salvation Army Thrift Store. Ut oh. 


Well, actually I noticed.  Harley was busy studying which bushes to water, while I took him on a 1 minute tour of  the parking lot landscaping. 


The Salvation Army Thrift Store had much better pricing than Goodwill. As I perused loads of stuff, I was about to leave empty handed, when binga-banga-boom, I spied brand new Brita Water Filters priced at $1 each. There were 9 and I grabbed them all. For another 35 cents, I ended up with a fluffy new hand towel and a beautiful woven wall basket. To stretch out storage in my wheel estate, I have been slowly collecting and hanging up  decorative wall baskets. This is like adding extra drawers or shelves. My towels are few and far between, so a nice fluffy hand towel, was wonderful, as I wash my hands often. 


At the checkout station, an older bearded man was quite jolly.  I told him I appreciated the great price on the water filters, normally they are $5-8 a piece. He said "Lady, we just put those on the shelf about an hour ago."  


"Well, they are all gone now!"  I  cheerily replied. I felt really lucky, because I have been using Brita Water filters for decades now. I can taste the difference for sure. My budget doesn't allow for me to purchase overpriced bottled water.  Then there is the storage problem, where to put a mountain of bottled water. I cook and drink from my Brita Water Pitcher, so I go through gallons a day. I use about 5-8 filters per year, so this little bargain saved me a small bundle. 


At the end of the day I felt oh so lucky to be alive, goofy doctor and all. 


After parking at the campground again, I foolishly opened the same overhead kitchen cabinet and the exact same thing happened all over again. That  box of tea tumbled out and exploded all over creation. 


Deja Vu or Deja boo-boo? 


This time many more were lost when they landed in a dirty bowl of water, soaking in the sink. Well, that's what I get for getting behind on dishes. But what with never dining out, always in, there are always dirty dishes in progress. (Well, I did dine out recently when my friend won the lottery and took me out. It was a royal treat too!)


Later, I was trying to fix something overhead in the motorhome when somehow I lost my grip on the vice grips. They landed squarely on my upturned nose which was stuck to my silly face. I was oh so mad, shocked and bewildered. Plus it hurt something awful!  


I am afraid the puppy learned a  whole new set of curse words. 


The offending vice grips bounced off my nose and under a chair to parts unknown. Well, I guess that is just another in the long list of  incomplete repairs. Me, my swollen nose and the enlightened puppy climbed into the padded cell. At least there, we would be safe. I was exhausted and tired of being hit by tea bag boxes and vice grips. 

I'd love to meet the owner of this vehicle...