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| Funky Fungi on a fallen tree |
Now that I am back to writing, the internet has gone AWOL on me. Not sure if my USB stick finally burned out or the company isn't broadcasting or what.
Sometimes I am able to borrow someone else's internet but not often. Things may get erratic here, as this is the fourth day of intermittent internet.
Calling the company is pretty useless. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Well, not really. The T-shirt never arrived.
Waiting for a live person to come on the line takes phenomenal patience. Then there is the language barrier. We're both speaking English, but we can't seem to understand each other.How does that work?
Basically they try to convince me for an hour that something is wrong with my computer or settings. Then if I haven't lost the phone connection or crashed my computer completely, they might admit there is a problem with their tower. In that case they always tell me to wait two hours or two days or two weeks, then call them back.
I am in a ton of pain but feeling rather happy. Why wreck it with a maddening call to the internet company? I will just putter along happily pretending nothing hurts and catch up on housework.
The dog and I woke up alive. We went for a walk with the camera, but I tuckered out before the dog did so we returned to play ball. He didn't feel like playing golf much, so we are on the patio by the fan enjoying the fabulous views of a receding lake and an empty park.
Birds are singing, the parking lots are bare. My workamping duties are sparse today. We didn't even find any errant garbage to pick up which probably means we didn't look hard enough.
Time and time again, I do not understand how it is people go to beautiful places to toss their garbage out. This park has dozens of trash cans. I am sad to think that we have raised a nation of many idiots. Too lazy, too stupid to place their garbage in a proper receptacle. What went wrong where? Are the schools teaching that it's OK to uglify America now? I sure hope not.
While my friend was visiting he helped out tremendously with my workamping duties. Oddly enough, picking up errant garbage isn't listed as work to be performed, but just the same I do it everyday. He gallantly picked up a small mountain of refuse we found scattered along the receding shore. I am a "volunteer" so I add this to my own duties. If I didn't pick up the scattered litter, the park would be a total wreck.
Lake Hartwell is 9.8 feet below full pond. This is so sad as several of the boat ramps have been forced into closing. One of our two boat ramps here closed months ago, but there is no barrier to prevent people from using it if they so desire. The lake is still usable. Our swim area used to have a tiny sandy beach, now it has a big sandy beach. So that's a plus to the lower lake level.
Today is Wednesday, so the Wednesday evening crowd might show up, they seem to fish every Wednesday in a catch and release deal.
The courtesy floating dock is firmly parked on mud now. An astonishing array of flowers, grasses, plants and struggling trees have taken root in the red mud around the exposed lake shore.
The other day we visited the Big Water Marina where mostly the sailboats like to hang out. I used to rent their International 420 sailboats back in the 80's after I sold my friend's sailboat. He had a 23 foot Columbian and had moved overseas. He kept it on Hartwell Lake. When his former secretary became too big from her pregnancy to keep up with her husband, toddler and her former boss's sailboat, she brought me the keys. I spent all my weekends on the boat most of the summer, but unfortunately, I sold it quickly for the owner, which meant I had no freebie to use anymore.
The new owner, who had sailed with me many times on the boat before buying it, never once invited me out on it, after he bought it. So I started sailing the International 420's out of Big Water Marina which is located on the big water section of the lake. Hey, I bet you never guessed that!
I was thinking of buying a sailboat to spend the weekends on and join the yacht club. (This was back in the 80's). I had spent two racing seasons crewing as an invited guest on a J-24 sailboat with other yacht club members. At the time I was an executive, firmly settled in my career and home. It seemed natural to look to acquire a weekend escape. I was doing the yuppie thing.
But somewhere along the line, my ideas changed, my dreams pressed me into escaping yuppie world and moving out to sea. Literally! I ended up working on big gorgeous sailboats that took me to exotic locations. The first year, I made about 20% of my former salary. But I didn't care. Money isn't everything. I had the time of my life and loved every moment.
Now that my body is beat up and ravaged from medical mess, I am oh so grateful I had the presence of mind to run out and do all those adventurous jobs in far flung ports on exquisite yachts.
People try to drag me out boating now, but I am just tired and the body doesn't work like a monkey anymore scrambling around on heeling decks. I probably did thirty or forty thousand miles on sailboats and mind you they only go 1-10 miles per hour as I worked only on monohulls.
I'd rather have the great memories of time past, than try to relive them now on boats. But still people try to drag me out on all manner of boats and seem almost offended when I try to explain, that was then, this is now.
Although... if it were a large hundred-plus foot sailboat and I could go merely as a passenger and not as crew, I could be tempted to step foot on a sailboat again.
Funny enough, I had a dream recently, that I drove my motorhome to the ocean, stepped on a sailboat and left port for the freedom of the seas. So it could happen again. Never say never.
For now I love life just fine with my doggy in my little old wheel estate.
Calling the company is pretty useless. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Well, not really. The T-shirt never arrived.
Waiting for a live person to come on the line takes phenomenal patience. Then there is the language barrier. We're both speaking English, but we can't seem to understand each other.How does that work?
Basically they try to convince me for an hour that something is wrong with my computer or settings. Then if I haven't lost the phone connection or crashed my computer completely, they might admit there is a problem with their tower. In that case they always tell me to wait two hours or two days or two weeks, then call them back.
I am in a ton of pain but feeling rather happy. Why wreck it with a maddening call to the internet company? I will just putter along happily pretending nothing hurts and catch up on housework.
The dog and I woke up alive. We went for a walk with the camera, but I tuckered out before the dog did so we returned to play ball. He didn't feel like playing golf much, so we are on the patio by the fan enjoying the fabulous views of a receding lake and an empty park.
Birds are singing, the parking lots are bare. My workamping duties are sparse today. We didn't even find any errant garbage to pick up which probably means we didn't look hard enough.
Time and time again, I do not understand how it is people go to beautiful places to toss their garbage out. This park has dozens of trash cans. I am sad to think that we have raised a nation of many idiots. Too lazy, too stupid to place their garbage in a proper receptacle. What went wrong where? Are the schools teaching that it's OK to uglify America now? I sure hope not.
While my friend was visiting he helped out tremendously with my workamping duties. Oddly enough, picking up errant garbage isn't listed as work to be performed, but just the same I do it everyday. He gallantly picked up a small mountain of refuse we found scattered along the receding shore. I am a "volunteer" so I add this to my own duties. If I didn't pick up the scattered litter, the park would be a total wreck.
Lake Hartwell is 9.8 feet below full pond. This is so sad as several of the boat ramps have been forced into closing. One of our two boat ramps here closed months ago, but there is no barrier to prevent people from using it if they so desire. The lake is still usable. Our swim area used to have a tiny sandy beach, now it has a big sandy beach. So that's a plus to the lower lake level.
Today is Wednesday, so the Wednesday evening crowd might show up, they seem to fish every Wednesday in a catch and release deal.
The courtesy floating dock is firmly parked on mud now. An astonishing array of flowers, grasses, plants and struggling trees have taken root in the red mud around the exposed lake shore.
The other day we visited the Big Water Marina where mostly the sailboats like to hang out. I used to rent their International 420 sailboats back in the 80's after I sold my friend's sailboat. He had a 23 foot Columbian and had moved overseas. He kept it on Hartwell Lake. When his former secretary became too big from her pregnancy to keep up with her husband, toddler and her former boss's sailboat, she brought me the keys. I spent all my weekends on the boat most of the summer, but unfortunately, I sold it quickly for the owner, which meant I had no freebie to use anymore.
The new owner, who had sailed with me many times on the boat before buying it, never once invited me out on it, after he bought it. So I started sailing the International 420's out of Big Water Marina which is located on the big water section of the lake. Hey, I bet you never guessed that!
I was thinking of buying a sailboat to spend the weekends on and join the yacht club. (This was back in the 80's). I had spent two racing seasons crewing as an invited guest on a J-24 sailboat with other yacht club members. At the time I was an executive, firmly settled in my career and home. It seemed natural to look to acquire a weekend escape. I was doing the yuppie thing.
But somewhere along the line, my ideas changed, my dreams pressed me into escaping yuppie world and moving out to sea. Literally! I ended up working on big gorgeous sailboats that took me to exotic locations. The first year, I made about 20% of my former salary. But I didn't care. Money isn't everything. I had the time of my life and loved every moment.
Now that my body is beat up and ravaged from medical mess, I am oh so grateful I had the presence of mind to run out and do all those adventurous jobs in far flung ports on exquisite yachts.
People try to drag me out boating now, but I am just tired and the body doesn't work like a monkey anymore scrambling around on heeling decks. I probably did thirty or forty thousand miles on sailboats and mind you they only go 1-10 miles per hour as I worked only on monohulls.
I'd rather have the great memories of time past, than try to relive them now on boats. But still people try to drag me out on all manner of boats and seem almost offended when I try to explain, that was then, this is now.
Although... if it were a large hundred-plus foot sailboat and I could go merely as a passenger and not as crew, I could be tempted to step foot on a sailboat again.
Funny enough, I had a dream recently, that I drove my motorhome to the ocean, stepped on a sailboat and left port for the freedom of the seas. So it could happen again. Never say never.
For now I love life just fine with my doggy in my little old wheel estate.
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Earth's Biggest Selection!
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You know, I have had a full life, not as much as yours, but a full life. I am settled now and watch my pennies, still working fulltime. Anyway, I am glad I did the things I did when I was young, and have plans to RV fulltime like you. I think it is our spirit that makes us like this. Many people are happy to go no further than 10 miles from their home, their entire lives. I could not ever do that.
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