Life is oh so wonderful. Bird are chirping and singing, the weather is cool at 50F degrees, but the sun is out. I want to just bundle up in a soft fluffy bathrobe but alas, there is no room for such frivolity in my compact closet. I measured my closet. It is a whopping 19 inches wide! I thought it was much smaller.
I do have a soft flannel knee length night shirt I bought to sleep in on cooler nights. But I found the long sleeves and shoulder seams too restrictive for my sleep style. Fortuitously it buttons up, so the flannel nightshirt has become my make-do house robe for taking the chill off on mornings like this.
Oh but wait, 'tis the season I am workamping. I need to just get dressed right away. Should John or Jane Q Public approach me with a question or concern, it would be nice, to be properly dressed rather than get caught answering my door in wrinkled sleepwear.
My mailbox is located a goodly distance outside the recreation area where the dog and I volunteer as Park and Bark Hosts. The box curiously shares a post with another mailbox at the driveway for an ancient mobile home. At some point years back, someone added to the mailbox "At Lake". I suppose the occupant of the mobile home was tired of people banging on the door looking for number 900.
When the park was set up decades ago, the mail route stopped long before the entrance to the park, so the mailbox was tacked onto the end of the route up the road quite a ways. Over the years houses have built between the mailbox and the park, but for whatever reasons, no one made arrangements with the post office to see about relocating the mailbox. Luckily most UPS or FedEx drivers have figured out the "At Lake" notice. You might recall that no one is allowed to use a mailbox except the US Postal Service.
When friends are using the address to locate me by GPS I have to remind them that the mailbox is where GPS will take them and that's not where I am physically located.
The big brown UPS truck recently came roaring up the park host driveway delivering Harley's organic dog food. Harley is in love with the brown truck. He runs frantically to the end of his tether, his tail wagging furiously like a helicopter blade as if any moment his tail will be fast enough to give him flight too.
Years back we were workamping in Florida 50 miles from nowhere. It was frighteningly cold in the mornings at 30-40F degrees. We had to do our workamping outside starting at 4:30am because we were the check station operators for a hunting area. I ordered Harley a thick warm doggy jacket and a toy for Christmas since he had to go to work with me at 4:30am. The big brown UPS truck delivered his package while we were working one day. I opened the box to show Harley his coat and toy. Then I put his warm coat on him so he would stop shivering and shaking. He paraded up and down the wooden bench in the outdoor hunt station like he was a model on the runway. He still loves that coat and gets excited when it's cold and I bring it out for him to wear. Ever since then, he associates the UPS truck with good tidings of puppy joy.
Needless to say, today he was wildly delighted to have the wonderful brown truck bring him a sack of food. He was sniffing the box, so when I opened it, I set his bag of food down for him to look over. That little helicopter tail was spinning as he sniffed it over in sheer delight.
It's hard for me to believe that I am starting my 4th tour workamping on Lake Hartwell. I had hoped to travel far and wide around the country workamping along the way, but when I found this gig, it suited me, it suited them. So here we are, back again!
I do have a soft flannel knee length night shirt I bought to sleep in on cooler nights. But I found the long sleeves and shoulder seams too restrictive for my sleep style. Fortuitously it buttons up, so the flannel nightshirt has become my make-do house robe for taking the chill off on mornings like this.
Oh but wait, 'tis the season I am workamping. I need to just get dressed right away. Should John or Jane Q Public approach me with a question or concern, it would be nice, to be properly dressed rather than get caught answering my door in wrinkled sleepwear.
My mailbox is located a goodly distance outside the recreation area where the dog and I volunteer as Park and Bark Hosts. The box curiously shares a post with another mailbox at the driveway for an ancient mobile home. At some point years back, someone added to the mailbox "At Lake". I suppose the occupant of the mobile home was tired of people banging on the door looking for number 900.
When the park was set up decades ago, the mail route stopped long before the entrance to the park, so the mailbox was tacked onto the end of the route up the road quite a ways. Over the years houses have built between the mailbox and the park, but for whatever reasons, no one made arrangements with the post office to see about relocating the mailbox. Luckily most UPS or FedEx drivers have figured out the "At Lake" notice. You might recall that no one is allowed to use a mailbox except the US Postal Service.
When friends are using the address to locate me by GPS I have to remind them that the mailbox is where GPS will take them and that's not where I am physically located.
The big brown UPS truck recently came roaring up the park host driveway delivering Harley's organic dog food. Harley is in love with the brown truck. He runs frantically to the end of his tether, his tail wagging furiously like a helicopter blade as if any moment his tail will be fast enough to give him flight too.
Years back we were workamping in Florida 50 miles from nowhere. It was frighteningly cold in the mornings at 30-40F degrees. We had to do our workamping outside starting at 4:30am because we were the check station operators for a hunting area. I ordered Harley a thick warm doggy jacket and a toy for Christmas since he had to go to work with me at 4:30am. The big brown UPS truck delivered his package while we were working one day. I opened the box to show Harley his coat and toy. Then I put his warm coat on him so he would stop shivering and shaking. He paraded up and down the wooden bench in the outdoor hunt station like he was a model on the runway. He still loves that coat and gets excited when it's cold and I bring it out for him to wear. Ever since then, he associates the UPS truck with good tidings of puppy joy.
Needless to say, today he was wildly delighted to have the wonderful brown truck bring him a sack of food. He was sniffing the box, so when I opened it, I set his bag of food down for him to look over. That little helicopter tail was spinning as he sniffed it over in sheer delight.
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| Lake Hartwell has numerous islands and coves plus a 962 mile shoreline. |
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Life is goof!