And Then There Was Tchaikovsky

I was listening to the radio. It felt great. I knew the words to all the songs.

Then the announcer came on saying this was classic rock and roll day.

Oh my gosh!  Am I that old?

I think of rock and roll as being timeless but is it now considered classic?

I thought classics were Beethoven, Chopin, Tchaikovsky...

Oh my gosh, I can not think of Tchaikovsky without giggling or smiling.

Back in the dark ages...  I was introduced to a new music teacher who was retired from the opera. I was to continue piano lessons with her.  My former piano teacher was moving away.

As I stood nervously at the front  door of her house, this grand exotic lady who had been all around the world appeared at the door, introducing herself,  letting me in. She had this massive bosom that was absolutely amazing in sheer size. As a nervous preteen, my jaw probably dropped in utter wonder when I first met her.

My own mother was very well endowed, but my new teacher probably had her bras professionally engineered by parachute makers.

I sat down at the piano then brought out my John Thompson music books and showed her what I could do on the piano. Our lesson had begun.

My instructor perched on an antique chair that completely vanished when she sat down.  Her posture included a ramrod straight back in spite of the great load she carried.

Each week we met for an hour. I rarely talked, just did as I was told. One day when she engaged me in conversation, it came to her attention I had a lot of trouble pronouncing certain words. She began correcting me as a matter of course.

In particular I had a ridiculously hard time pronouncing Tchaikovsky managing to mangle it something awful.  The first time my piano teacher  heard my attempt to say it correctly, she burst out laughing.  Her incredible chest heaved, wiggled and gyrated while she laughed. My eyes become wide as saucers.

She recovered from the laughter, telling me "You need to say it rapidly like you're sneezing. Tchaikovsky! Tchaikovsky! Tchaikovsky!  Now you try it!"

Each time she said Tchaikovsky! her humongous breasts would shift, wiggle and wobble  with each enunciation.

I tried saying Tchaikovsky! like a sneeze while my teacher barked at me "Try again, say it like a sneeze"  For good emphasis she repeated Tchaikovsky! three more times while her gigantic bosom danced like jello gone wild with each utterance.

I sputtered out Tchaikovsky! Tchaikovsky! Tchaikovsky!  like I was trying to sneeze. But for some fool reason the giggles overtook me. I started laughing  uncontrollably. My face flushed crimson red. The giggles would not stop.

The maestro began laughing again while her chest danced uncontrollably, which made me continue to giggle so hard I thought I would fall right off the piano bench. I couldn't stop myself, I just felt like I was caught up in this crazy cartoon of saying  "Tchaikovsky! Tchaikovsky! Tchaikovsky!" like a sneeze while this woman with the jittery breasts goaded me on.  She was convinced I could learn to say Tchaikovsky! correctly with a little more practice but I was by now chuckling with wild abandonment such as only a child can do.

About that time my mother arrived to pick me up. As she approached the door,  she heard all the laughter instead of piano playing. My instructor excused me to go home. I tried to stop laughing long enough to gather up my books. I hung my head down,biting my lip,  because if I dared to look at my piano instructor again, I was sure to split my sides wide open in ridiculous tittering.

Riding home with my mother in her VW van, I stared aimlessly out the window while she asked me what on earth were we two laughing about. I turned to her explaining I was learning to pronounce Tchaikovsky! which immediately put the image of my teacher's cavorting bosom back into my silly brain.  I slid down in my seat unable to control my hysterical cackling.

I was far too embarrassed to tell my mother what was really so funny to my childlike eyes.

My mother is now long gone.  But to this day, I can still see that perplexed look on her face as I tried between frenzied snickering to explain how to pronounce Tchaikovsky!

Peek A Boo

Sitting up here I can finally peek in the neighbor's window and see what their cat is doing...

Tiny Brains

Yucky poo flu. Days and nights just blending into a confused haze.

Finally crawled out of bed and crept around the block with the puppy dog. Fortified myself with fluids.  Uncovered the bicycle.

Took another nap.

Eased out of bed.  Stumbled outside with the puppy dog.

Unlocked the bicycle.

Went back inside to rest. Drank fluids.

Located the nice black back pack we found at Goodwill for 99 cents.

Loaded it up with dog leash, poop baggies, emergency phone, emergency meds, bottle of water, keys to motorhome, keys to bicycle lock.

Found the special bungee cord  that holds it all to the rear bike rack.

Padded Harley's bike basket with one of his little blankets.

Harley was patrolling circles around me and the bike in anticipation that we might actually go somewhere besides back to bed.

I figured we could just peddle around the campground.  Once we got going, I thought oh what the heck, let's pray for a miracle and keep peddling.

Harley was whining and fussing. Not sure why. Might have been his way of saying "Come on, you can do it, let's go to the canine crib!"

Harley was thrilled we made it to the off leash dog park. I was pretty pooped from the effort of just finally arriving.  He waited in his basket while I fussed with the bicycle lock, then I carefully lifted him out, put on his leash and sat him down. He tried to forcibly drag me to the doggy park gates.

There was a congenial crowd.

Maybe someone would revive me, if I passed right out.

Dripping in sweat from either the ride or the fever or both, I managed to drink nearly all the water and play toss  the ball with Harley.

I wondered if I would have the energy to ride back home.  I figured we would just have to stay awhile while I built up the stamina.

Harley actually began bringing the ball right back to my feet, like suddenly his brain gets it, that dropping it twenty feet away doesn't count.

When he would drop it far away, I would complain he should bring it closer. Then I moved at a snails pace to go retrieve it while he waited impatiently.

I finally reached the ball and tossed it again. It must have seemed like forever to him. I used to rush over to grab the ball, but today I was moving super slow.

Once thrown, I cheered him on to bring it back to me.  TO ME, not fifteen feet away, not twenty feet away, bring it TO ME.

Finally his little tiny noggin figured it out!  He actually began bringing it right to my feet. Maybe he didn't like waiting anxiously for the next throw while I spent precious minutes creeping over to where he usually just randomly drops it.  

Incredible.

He seemed rather smitten with this feat, so I rewarded him by promptly throwing it again every time he deposited it at my feet. Anywhere else and I started moving in very slow motion.

Maybe I am learning something...

Maybe he is learning something...

Harley snoozes contentedly after we get back home.

UFO

Incredible!

I had a friend staying with me awhile back. I was napping.  Later my friend said "Oh I grabbed your camera to photograph something odd."

And here it is!

Below is the same picture, cropped.

When I downloaded the picture, I said "You only took one? This is absolutely amazing!"

So when he said "I didn't want to waste your film..."  I had to just roll my eyes.  My camera is digital.  I think it holds several thousand pictures... but no use explaining that.

My friend is seriously techno-challenged. I mean he still has a corded rotary dial phone on the wall  in his kitchen.  Believe me his phone company has begged him to upgrade. I remember he was incensed when the computer broke in his car and needed repair. He yelled at the mechanic to rip the dang thing out...  of course ultimately he had to pay to have the computer fixed, but he was aghast that his car required a computer when he himself has tried to avoid all forms of technology.

Of course, I should talk... I am using old technology...  my laptop is a refurbished used one, circa 2003 with an XP upgrade.

But I digress...  Isn't this picture amazing?

What the heck is it?

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Wild Things

In the middle of the city at a nearly dried up lake these water fowl were having a meet and greet on the edge of a shopping plaza parking lot.

Harley dog is in love with his new girlfriend.

Sadly, she barely gives him the time of day.  This has done nothing to stop his exuberant enthusiasm every time he sees her.  Whenever we go for a walk, he heads for her RV.

He tries to kiss her on the face and engage her in play but she just acts like he is invisible. It's heartbreakingly cute.

The wildlife always finds us. We don't feed them or pet them or house them but somehow they always end up on our lot.

This tortoise is more than triple the size of Harley dog, but that didn't stop him from setting up the bark alarm.  As he ran towards it barking, the turtle went into his shell, making Harley take a huge backward leap that left other campers laughing at his antics.

I finally got him to quiet down long enough for me to snap a few pictures.

Incredibly, the turtle returned four times that day, crossing back and forth through our lot as if we had a turtle highway laid out here.

Problem Solved!

Today some friends took me out to lunch.

On the way home, we went by the doggy park so all of our  canine critters could run wild for awhile. There are always interesting people at the dog park, most are friendly and chatty.

I was tired of sitting down from eating and driving, so I was standing around, holding an empty dog poop bag and watching Harley race around playing. If he  did his business, then I was armed and ready to clean up after him.  

The conversation of the humans seated  nearby on chairs and benches turned to leftover dog poop that other dog owners had thoughtlessly left behind. Five minutes later the conversation continued to roll on this theme.  One of the dogs went over to sniff some of the old dried up poop when her owner snatched her up complaining loudly about the "nightmare'. She now held her dog in her lap.  

More people arrived and  joined the conversation about the dog poop dilemma.  In my own silent thinking, I can see where some owners are not watching their dogs intently (maybe because they are yacking away about anonymous dried up dog poop piles?) and it's possible a willing owner unintentionally missed their dog's deed.  So there it sat.  Anonymously.

Many of those that voiced opinions did not agree with these thoughts I kept trapped inside. Still I listened in on the conversation, silently eavesdropping, hoping it would take an interesting turn for the better.

Ten minutes go by and the same matter of poop is continuing with dog owners earnestly  griping about the anonymous dried up dog doodle scattered here and there.  As people pointed it out, I took notice. 

Just for your idle information... the park offers up free dog poop bags. (Most days.) They also offer up a free garbage can too, that is never full. 

More minutes tick by as I watch Harley race around, thoroughly smitten with his temporary freedom from strings and tethers, leashes and halters. I toss a tennis ball, he eagerly fetches it. Fifteen minutes later the dog poop problem is still being heavily debated by the dog owners. 

I thought to myself, I've heard enough of this shit!  

Doesn't anyone have anything cheerful to say?  

But I  remained silent.  

Finally a dim little light came on in my feeble brain.

I wordlessly walked over to the free baggies, grabbed a few, then walked around the dog park picking up the anonymous dried up old poop with the baggies. When I was done,  I threw it all away in the garbage can provided. 

The dog owners were suddenly quiet.  From animated chatter to stunned silence. They stared at me with jaws dropped as if I was a creature from outer space who had just landed in a spaceship. 

It reminded me of why I don't much care for committee meetings.  

Nine people had spent twenty minutes discussing what to do about the anonymous dog poop problem. I had not volunteered a thing nor verbally  added to  the conversation. 

But in under 60 seconds,   I had the problem solved.  

It felt great. 

Life is good!  

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And now for today's funny...

Crazy Stuff

I can't find my stuffed toy!

Some days I am as out of sorts as my silly dog who can't find his toy.

High gusty winds destroyed my patio umbrella and damaged my awning. INCREDIBLE!  I didn't need this. Grumble mumble.

Now the weather has suddenly become severe winter with night time temperatures barely above freezing. I was barefoot just the other day.

Thank goodness for my nearly new used trench coat, I am wearing it all the time now to walk the dog. It is lined inside and the sleeves are too long, but that's OK, it keeps my hands warm. Harley is so cold, he wears a doggy Tshirt under his sweater with his cowboy coat on top of all that. He often runs circles around me on his flexi-leash to warm up. He is also eating a mountain of food, but not gaining any weight. He burns it all off just trying to stay warm.

I was wearing 2 pair of pants, socks, fleece lined boots, 2 shirts and the trench coat. YES, it is c-c-cold here. But at least the doggy and I get in some exercise.

These northerners walk by me in their thin little spring jackets and tell me it's not cold. Well 30 something effing degrees IS COLD to me and nothing will change that. I can't seem to warm up!

It snowed in my southern hometown in South Carolina. I guess that makes me officially a snowbird for a day since I am not there.

We're all here, cause we're not all there.  

I am trying a new treatment. It makes me smell funny and cat nap a lot. This might be a miracle.  I sure hope so. My doggy naps with me. What a trooper!

I met a crazy woman in the discount dent and mangled grocery store. She had one item in her buggy. She followed me around chatting, so I made appropriate comments to her revelations.  She tried to strike up odd conversations with other shoppers but they ignored her, giving us strange looks and turning away.  So she kept coming back to me with the same stories, following me around, pushing her cart with the lone gallon of corn oil in it.

She told me she had kidney stones. I told her that was awful and I felt her pain. She told me all about her old diet and her new diet. I told her it sounded like a good plan. Then she told me she might have to go in the hospital. I said that would be dreadful and I hoped she got better.  Suddenly she changed tacks to tell me all about her neighbor and what the neighbor liked to dine on.   All the while she is picking up products, studying them, then either putting them back on the shelf or tossing them in my cart.

After a few minutes, the conversation came back to the same subjects. I pretended like her latest speech was all new to me. She would pick up items off the shelves, then rave about the bargain prices.  Next she would go into a lengthy excuse as to why she might not buy it, then she would place it back on the shelf. A few times she asked me if she should put it in my cart for me. I told her no thanks, I already had some. This seemed to appease her some of the time.

Occasionally she would drop something in my cart after telling me what a good deal it was. My cart was becoming a chaotic mess but I just let her continue to add things now and then to it.

I learned a good bit about her life and her neighbor's life too. She followed me up and down every aisle and finally to the cashier where she said it was nice talking to me. I told her it was delightful meeting her. She seemed quite pleased. Then she started over on one of her stories. I pretended I had not heard it just 5 minutes ago, smiling and nodding. Finally when she paused for breath, I told her again, how much I enjoyed meeting her.  By now I had paid for my purchases after removing the items I didn't want that my new friend had thoughtfully placed in my cart. I told the cashier, I had changed my mind on these items. The cashier gave me an odd look.

Two crazy people in one store?

I left the market with my bargains but the chatty lady stayed behind talking to the clerk. It solved my dilemma  because I wondered what I was going to do with her if she followed me home with her gallon of corn oil.

RV Considerations

I like these efficient RV's. We need to bring these back in style. The rear door that opens up completely could make housekeeping a snap.

Now here's a custom decorated RV for you.  That's the fun part about buying used and old, you have every excuse to do a full makeover to your taste.

Speaking of taste, this is rather unique. It resembles more a play house than an RV.

Who says your cabana cottage on wheels can't have some very personal artsy charm. You have to admit, it's a great theft determent.

This is a smart way to handle three doors, space them out all over the RV. I think the basic stripes look nice.

These RV's will get you out into the wild blue yonder, then pop-up for convenience.

This is just awesomely cute. Very fuel efficient.

I like the idea of matching the car and trailer together.

Typically that's a kitchen in back. Cooking outside is loads of fun.

A closer version of the all terrain popup camper.

Let's bring the back porch, an idea I would like to see more of.

Pun Fun

I tried to catch some fog.
But I mist.

When chemists die we barium.

The wurst jokes are about German sausage.

Sadly there are people who are addicted to brake fluid.
They claim they can stop any time.

Ever wonder how Moses makes his tea?
Hebrews it.

I stayed up all night wondering where the sun went.
Then it dawned on me.

This girl said she recognized me from the vegetarian restaurant,
but I'd never met herbivore.

I'm reading a book about anti-gravity.
I can't put it down.

I once did a theatrical performance about puns.
It was a play on words.

PMS jokes aren't funny. Period!

Were the Indians here first?
They had the first reservations.

Did you hear about the kid's class field trip to the Coca-Cola factory?
They had a pop quiz afterwards.

The Energizer bunny was arrested.
He was charged with battery.

He didn't like his beard at first.
Then it grew on him.

How do you make holy water?
Boil the hell out of it!

Did you hear about the cross eyed teacher who lost her job?
She couldn't control her pupils.

When you get a bladder infection, urine trouble.

What does a clock do when it's hungry?
It goes back four seconds.

I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger.
Then it hit me!

Broken pencils are pointless.

What do you call a dinosaur with a extensive vocabulary?
A thesaurus.

England has no kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool.

I used to be a banker, then I lost interest.

I dropped out of communism class because of lousy Marx.

All the toilets in New York's police stations have been stolen.
Police have nothing to go on.

I got a job at a bakery because I kneaded dough.

French pancakes give me the crepes.

Velcro - what a rip off!

Cartoonist found dead in home.
Details are sketchy.

Venison for dinner?
Oh deer!

Earthquake in Washington obviously government's fault.

I used to think I was indecisive, but now I'm not so sure.

Be kind to your dentist.
He has fillings, too.

Change your i Pod name to Titanic. It will start syncing now.

Dinner For Two Twice

Life is crazy.

So what else is new...

I made dinner for my friends who drove 200 miles to come camp here. There was a problem with the lot they had reserved, so they ended up at the opposite end of the campground. This worked out fine because it was much larger and had healthy grass growing. Harley has enjoyed his bike rides to go see them. Ride is correct, he rides and I suffer through pure torture pedaling him around.

On the way back home, I was working my short legs as fast I could go straight into a strong headwind when a jogger came up behind me, then effortlessly passed me with rivers of sweat running down his body and dribbling on the computer he had strapped to his arm.

Sheesh.

I've been passed by a runner while I was on my bicycle!

Gee wiz... I thought I was really improving. Oh well. *SIGH*

Harley loves to repose in his front bicycle basket, looking cool as can be while I try to plaster a smile on my face that probably looks more like a terrified grimace.

In the early evening my friends walked over, enjoying dinner al fresco. The weather was perfect! As usual, I made way too much, but hey, leftovers are good to have around for sure. After they went home, I felt a spurt of energy, so I did all the washing up rather than let it rest until morning as I sometimes do. I had just emptied the crockpot and stored the food when my phone dinged me.

Apparently I had voice mail. A call to check and I found out friends of mine from Minnesota had flown in one way, rented a truck, loaded up a bunch of furniture and were now 67 miles south of me and closing in as we spoke.

Naturally I invited them to come over, offering my spare bunks for the night, but they said yes to the visit and no to the bunks. I asked them to dinner explaining they caught me at a great time. This  thrilled them.  So we had a lovely visit while first I plied them with food then with strong coffee for the drive north.

Harley dog was in dog heaven what with all this company to pay him attention!  He loves nothing better than to show off his toys. My picture below was so dark, I tried to lighten it up, it was taken at night.

Puppy Play

Recently Harley was reunited with his playmate from two and a half years ago.      Clearly they remembered their puppy playtime romps. I've added some funny music to go with the goofy canine cutups.

Enjoy!

You can watch below or at this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JHYRjU_cJSg&feature=youtu.be

Dumpster Diving

Wow!  I've had some really good luck dumpster diving lately. Sure it's messy but sometimes the rewards are grand.

When times get tough, the tough get dirty...

Shown below are two 9x12 patio mats and a 6x9 mat. The green one I bought half priced three years ago.  The brown one was thrown away by some snowbirds who bought a new one. I rescued their mat from the dumpster.

The small brown mat in back I also found at the dumpster last fall. However, when I break camp to travel again, I will get rid of the small one and keep the two big ones. They are self draining and very lightweight.

The high winds broke my umbrella one night. It's supposed to tilt when you want to block the sun, but mine force-tilted and the hardware blew out.

Always something to repair.

The oak trees rain acorns and leaves all over the place.  There is no grass under the mats, but there is grass behind me. Harley loves to play outside, because he can reach the mats or the grass on his tether.

I am going to clean up my act and make dinner in the crockpot. I am feeding friends al fresco today after their long day of travel. They will be camping nearby in their cozy cabana on wheels.

Most of my chairs are dumpster rescues except the big red one. My neck was killing me last year when it went on sale for half priced, so UPS delivered the chair one day.  Oh my gosh, it reclines too and supports the head and neck. I've napped in it a few times, it's pretty comfy.

Life is good.

Murder Minded

Yesterday I forced myself out of the park, into the motorhome and out shopping. I needed to buy poison.

Yes it's true.

I planned to seriously debilitate unwanted company.  Might as well get rid of them for good. It's bad enough they torture me, but why should I let them live one more day to torment anyone else?

I need my happiness. Life is short and they are making me very unhappy.  If they don't want to leave on their own with no hard feelings, then by golly I can make them leave, even if I have to kill them.

So off shopping I went. Took the entire RV with me and my unwanted guest.

It took four stores before I found the desired toxins.  Even then, I bought the very last box of the stuff.

See?  I am not alone.

There are others like me who wish to commit murder.

Now I am back home trying to entice my guest to eat the fatal food.

If all goes well, within a day or so, I will be wrapping their dead body in garbage bags for a late night unceremonious disposal at the local dumpster.

Then I will be able to sleep in peace.

My company will be gone. Once and for all.


Here little mousy mousy...

Dinner's ready!


How dare that mouse take up residence in my beloved wheel estate. Clearly uninvited and unwanted, I have no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

There just wasn't time to go adopt a cat, which would have been my first choice. I tried to sic Harley on the rodent, but he couldn't bark it to death and he wasn't going to bite it either. Sheesh.

I saw the little nasty bugger twice. Inside my home.  MY HOME.  I  chased him/her from one end to the other.

Where  it hid, I have no idea.  But there is a fresh bowl of poison just waiting...

A Rare Interview With Harley

Hi.

My name is Harley.

I am a formidable  six pound dog but people call me a monkey for some strange reason.

This is my little corner of the wheel estate where I eat, nap, guard, play and live when I am not taking over the rest of the place, like my pet parent's favorite feather pillow or afghan or bed or all of the above.

My pet parent plays hide and seek with the toys, but always hides them in the same basket behind the same chair. Maybe she isn't good at this game.

I like to scatter my toys all over the motorhome and outside as well. Sometimes she fetches them.  Good girl!

My pet parent opens my curtains every morning for me and fills up my dishes. She brushes my fur and makes me wear pawfume some days.

I like to romp around in sweaters when it's chilly and a warm jacket when it's cold. It's fun to roll in the dirt outside so my sweater and jacket smells better.

Once in a while my pet parent makes me take  a bath, but I prefer to stand up the whole time on my back legs, because it's loads of  fun to get soap all over the place.

Some puppy dogs tell me they are crated.

Maybe they are fragile and need a crate.

I don't know. I have never had a crate.

Is that bigger than my motorhome?

I like to play kissy face with humans, take long walks, ride a bicycle, feel the wind in my fur and go to the canine park. I am an expert at removing stuffed toy stuffing. I can play you a tune with my squawk toys. When my toy gets out of tune, I rip out the squeaky.  I'm athletic too and can play tennis, golf, basketball, soccer, baseball, football, frisbee and keep away.

Here I am posing for the camera, with the wind in my fur. We were going so fast that my left floppy ear stood up on its own. I keep my mouth shut when I hang my head out the window ever since I swallowed a big old bug.

Hiding In The Trench Coat

Turn the heat up and I'll take my coat off. 

This morning we did something very naughty. Luckily we didn't get caught.

What happened was I went to sit on the throne in my broom closet around dark thirty. When I was ready to flush I realized much to my horror that it was suddenly time to pump out the black water holding tank in my gracious wheel estate.

I wasn't dressed, I wasn't awake but I wanted to be able to flush my toilet.  So I dug around my closet to find this gorgeous classic trench coat I bought at  Goodwill three years ago when I came to America. They charged me $25 for the coat on a very cold day but it had a designer label which is kind of funny, considering the trench coat was originally designed for officers in the rainy trenches. I thought it was a lot, but it was in great shape with a fresh drycleaingn tag stapled inside the sleeve. I decided it might be worthy of  the princely sum, because it was a timeless design that would probably outlast the rest of my days.

It looks great with anything and everything. Wearing it makes one look instantly dressed up for something important. I can't get cold too suddenly for health reasons, it complicates things so this coat has done me well. I just haven't worn it this winter until now.

Putting it on this morning, saved me from getting dressed. It was nice, long, warm, cozy and looked terrific.

So I dashed outside as the sun was slipping over the horizon to pull the plug on the black water tank wearing the lovely olive green trench coat. The black water tank is a polite way of saying the poop tank.

Even though I am connected to a sewer line, it's not possible to direct hook the poop tank up. To put it mildly...leaving the poop tank open all the time could cause all the liquids to drain out and the solids to build up a rock hard pyramid in the middle of  holding tank. Sooooooo...  it's important to let the liquids and solids mingle awhile then drain the tank. Typically I do this weekly, as I am already connected to the sewer hose. Apparently I skipped a few weeks. My bad.

In case you are wondering, the gray water from sinks and shower can go straight out to the sewer line rather than accumulate separately in the aptly named gray water tank.

OK, now that you've had your motorhome sewer lesson today...

I was outside with just my undies on but completely covered up with this lovely trench coat. I pulled the plug, then raced back around the motorhome towards the door.  I could close the valve back up later in the day.

At the front door I grabbed it rapidly to sneak back inside to the warmth of the RV on this 42F degree morning.

I was attacked by a jumping, leaping puppy who woke up instantly when I snuck outside and now he was ready for his morning walk, three hours earlier than normal.

Well, what the heck, I guess I could walk him in my undies and trench coat. I plopped on his coat and around the campground we went. I was so surprised that so many people were out and about walking their dogs so early!  My gosh, it seems half the campground was out and about at this unholy hour.

I was trying to appear calm and cool, all bundled up in my lengthy overcoat. I prayed nothing bad would happen, like getting hit by a car or anything. What if they discovered I was walking my dog, prancing around with next to nothing under my coat.

It sounds bad I guess, in a naughty way.

But I've heard stories... Reasons why my mother told me to never leave the house without being properly dressed.

My mother told me about a neighbor who was in her curlers and frumpy house robe with rabbit slippers when she realized the kids had missed their school bus. What's even funnier, is that she had shed her nightie to put in the washing machine with a load of laundry, so basically there was *ahem* nothing at all under her frumpy robe. This was OK for making breakfast for the family. Moments earlier her husband had left for work. But not wanting her kids to be late for school, she leaped into the car thinking she could make the round trip quickly without anyone seeing her.

Arriving at the school, everyone was inside with the first bell ringing just as she pulled up to drop off her kids. Thankfully there was no one around to see her.  As she pulled out of the school zone, back onto the road, her rear tire went completely flat with a loud bang. This was ages ago, long before cell phones.

Frozen in time, in her curlers, nappy bathroom and rabbit slippers, she waited in pure shame for over an hour, but no prince charming came to her rescue. Finally she had to exit the car, sum up every ounce of courage, then walk to the school, go inside, stroll to the office asking  to borrow the phone.

She called her husband imploring him to come to her rescue, then she walked back out of the school to go hide in her car.

So this morning, I thought about her, thinking at least I was covered from head to toe in a gorgeous coat.

And no one ran me over.

Whew!

Assemblage Art

Making art  from found items.

Assemblage art...  the first time I came across that term I liked it. My  life seems like assemblage art... but more on that later.


Here are some fun pics to enjoy.  Making something out of nothing.

Leftover drawers?

New furniture versions made from random old furniture.

Amazing what you can do with some old furniture, a saw and some paint.

Who says Crocs are just for wearing?

Now for some serious assemblage art:

The old Bomba Shack in Tortola where I spent many happy full moons dancing on the beach is famous for his own brand of assemblage art.

Cold Winter Is Back

For those of you that were feeling sorry for me running around barefoot and in shorts, well you can rest assured that winter arrived again last night.

It was so cold I had one large and two small ceramic heaters running plus my mattress warmer and it was still c-c-c-cold. I even slept in socks and I hate wearing socks at night.

I've finally made a nice friend in the campground.  She's married, from Puerto Rico, covered in an exotic tattoo and has a cute little girl doggy that Harley is in love with. Her husband is often gone working on a special job in the area.

She asked me why the people seem so cold here.  I burst out laughing and told her I felt that weird aloofness too. Maybe it's a culture thing we just don't get.

Maybe our little old used rigs don't stack up to their new mega rigs, but we're probably having a lot more fun. We can both boast, that while our rigs are not new and fancy, they are debt free and well cared for.

I have one more month at this campground. I like it here, just unsure why the long term campers aren't so friendly. Very strange. If all goes well, they are going to see me again next winter, so get used to it!

Friends emailed me and they are arriving next week to visit in their camper. That will be fun fun fun!

I've chatted up some of the dog walkers.  It seems the first thing out of their mouth is their dog isn't social as they tug and yank their pooch away. I always ask if they have been to the dog park and so far most everyone says no. What a shame to stay here just a mile from the dog park and not go use it. It's actually in the same park, just a mile away as the road wanders.  It's the dog park that makes me keenly interested in this place to start with. That and it's the only time I get to live in a town without sacrificing natural beauty. This year I have two whole months here. Next winter, maybe longer.

Some dogs aren't even walked at all here. The owners just put them out in the grass by their front door to do their thing, then take them back inside. Dogs need to walk and run, even the little guys like my monkey. He can get crabby and appear anti-social if he doesn't get enough walking, sniffing and playing.  He wears me out!

But of all the numerous things I've tried in the past three years to defy the odds, to improve my health despite gloom and doom, I owe my puppy dog big time. Because of him, I am forced into walking several times a day.  For some weird reason only my crazy brain knows, I wouldn't get out and walk all alone. Finding like minded people to walk with, can be problematic. Having my little doggy to walk with me is comforting.

One of the fun naughty aspects of dog walking, is you're able to be nosy without appearing so. For instance, a fire truck and ambulance raced into the campground. I immediately took my pooch for a walk to casually inspect the emergency.

If there is something I want to stare at, I just stop to look. The dog will immediately sniff the area, perhaps watering something, so it appears I am merely waiting on the puppy, not staring rudely at whatever holds my interest.

Harley goes bonkers when he sees me gather up the daily garbage. That's his signal that our first walk of the day is about to begin.  A trip to the dumpster.

This park is part campground and part day use for the general public so the weekends are a sight to behold as people pour in to play sports, ride bicycles and race little remote control sailboats on the lake.

Harley is goofy as ever, trying to make friends with everybody. He is smitten with his new girlfriend. He runs loops around me on his flexi-leash engaging her in play and showing off his tiny canine muscles. What a hoot.

Life is good!

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