Sunday, May 31, 2015

Beautiful and Barefoot

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face
And show the world all the love in your heart
Then people gonna treat you better
You're gonna find, yes, you will
That you're beautiful as you feel

Waiting at the station with a workday wind a-blowing
I've got nothing to do but watch the passers-by
Mirrored in their faces I see frustration growing
And they don't see it showing, why do I?

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face
And show the world all the love in your heart
Then people gonna treat you better
You're gonna find, yes, you will
That you're beautiful as you feel

I have often asked myself the reason for sadness
In a world where tears are just a lullaby
If there's any answer, maybe love can end the madness
Maybe not, oh, but we can only try

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face
And show the world all the love in your heart
Then people gonna treat you better
You're gonna find, yes, you will
That you're beautiful as you feel

"Beautiful" Lyrics by
Carole King
"Tapestry" (Album 1971)

More information about Carole King (click here.)

For years I lived in my little old motorhome in silence. No music. No TV. No radio. It was/is very beneficial for healing. Now I often listen to music thanks to technology, public libraries and repurposed stereo speakers from an angel. 

"Beautiful"  is one of my favorite songs. 

The coastal Sights and Scenes above are from the southern end of the Grand Strand south of Murrells Inlet South Carolina, USA.

Sometimes people feel sorry for me not having a car in such a complicated country where car ownership is taken for granted. I don't feel sorry for me. It's a wonderful treasured tradeoff to have nature instead of a car. The pictures were snapped while I was out walking barefoot in places where cars can't go. 

Life is goof.

I woke up alive the sun came up, life is awesomely beautiful. It's Sunday, a wondrous day of thanks. 

Thanks for stopping by today. You're beautiful. 

Friday, May 29, 2015

Georgetown South Carolina

Me: Harley? Where are we? I think we missed a turn somewhere.
Harley: We're in the rolling dog house.
Me: Yes, um, I know that you silly dog but look on the map. 
Harley: Looks like we drove off the page again.
Me: You're a big help. 

Georgetown South Carolina is the third oldest city in the state. The first two being Beaufort and Charleston. Below are a few scenes from downtown Georgetown. Old architecture fascinates me.

My clock tower didn't come out too clear but at least the clock and windvane work (better than my camera skills!)

This antebellum home is next to the fresh seafood market and harbor.

A wrap around porch with rocking chairs. My favorite, often found in older southern architecture when a fresh breeze was considered air conditioning.

If I were to have a "dream home" it would be a tiny efficient one room cottage with a big shady porch on all four sides. Well, I guess two rooms, if you count the separate bath as a room. But for now I am living in a lovely old rambling cantankerous rolling dog house. Where ever I am is where I want to be. Life is goof.

An old art deco theater is still in business.

Finally found the entrance to our next campground.
Um... I think...

More information on Georgetown South Carolina can be found at this link.

See you down the waterway!

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Low Country in a Little Old Motorhome

Doggone drivers and their big rigs are blocking the road again because due to an error in judgment, they can't fit in their campsite. If the reservation specifies 30 feet and under for your chosen campsite, you might not be able to squeeze 45 feet plus a tow vehicle in there.

Maybe the dog made the reservation.

Sometimes a campground or camp site appears huge on paper or in the brochure, but most campgrounds assume the trees won't move, so if they say it's for 30 feet and under for a particular site, believe them. It might be a larger lot, but there might be magnificent life giving trees parked there too.

Five years later, I am still in my little old wheel estate, home sweet home. This is the view from standing in the rear of the camper.

The stainless steel urn under the sink is my water purifier. Bungee cords and hooks hold it in place so I can go bouncing down the highways and byways.
It has a spout at the bottom like  a big coffee urn. I fill the upper chamber with water which filters into the bottom chamber.
I fill up my daily water carafe so I have purified water for drinking, ice making and cooking.
After careful study and oodles of research, I chose this method because it's portable, needs no electricity or water pressure and the filters last for six to ten thousands gallons depending on the water quality going into the upper chamber. The taste is awesome. This Berkey system will filter any kind of water from municipalities, ponds, rivers, lakes, rainfall, anything except salt water. Salt water conversion to drinking water is a whole different scientific process. If you want exceptional water quality without the hassle of buying and storing  jugs of water from unknown sources, then this is the system for you. It can be used in your sticks and brick home then relocated to your RV for camping.
See more details on the Berkey water purifier at this link.

 Due to someone else cancelling their reservation, I ended up in another beautiful campsite. Harley dog loves the play yard. I put him on a super long tether so we can play Frisbee and golf, his two favorite games.

Life is beautiful. I woke up alive and all is good, fantastically wonderful! This secret path leads to paradise.

Currently we are careening around the Low Country of South Carolina, falling in love with every place we camp.

I can eat beans and rice all year long so I can save up for the thrill of fresh-off -the-boat shrimp. Now that my friend is an exquisite taste to be savored with my fiery homemade cocktail sauce.

Well, I am off and wobbling. See you around the harbor!



Monday, May 25, 2015

Speaking of Bicycles and RV's

Rating Internet at Turtle and Rabbit Speed in Laymen Terms

Internet in this campground is erratic. Mine (Virgin Mobile USB stick) occasionally works at turtle speed. Apparently I am on the edge of their coverage map. This campground where I just landed,  does offer WiFi but it's random and erratic, like a drunken rabbit or perhaps a turtle on coffee.

Not sure if this post will make it or not at these random speeds.

Kind of like me on the bicycle. Random.

Speaking of bicycles...

I don't own a car, just a Schwinn bicycle that I've jazzed up a bit.

Mobility Transportation for the Physically Challenged

Usually this means a wheel chair or electric cart often referred to as scooters even though they are typically chairs on small wheels designed for level hard terrain. Some are configured to sit and drive  but with the tiny small wheels you need pavement in great shape for outdoor use. Not much exercise involved in using these, as in none.

Neither of these appealed to me, I have an odd assortment of physical challenges that made my dream of bicycle riding rather difficult. To assist me in this endeavor, I finally caved in and jazzed up my bicycle with a bicycle electric-assist kit.

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Silently.

Or in my case, when the going gets tough, I push a magic button for some assistance.


You may be surprised to learn that I am slowly working up the nerve to go out on the bicycle everyday to the point I feel such guilt if I don't get out on my bike, if even just to loop around the campground and back. I need the circulation benefits.

Oops, that came out funny. I was speaking of circulating the blood in the body, a bicycle is great for improving circulation.

I now pedal 90% of the time, but if I am having problems, then I push the magic button for maybe 5 seconds or could be 30 seconds. Once in awhile I use it longer.

There are days when I start out riding half and half it seems. I pedal some, get some assistance, pedal some and back and forth. Then as I start feeling stronger or better, I try to pedal more and more sometimes getting overly tired before realizing I should just push that magic button and have a blast.

Recently for two weeks of pure heaven, I was able to ride down the beach on my favorite island.

Life is goof.

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Memorial Day

Have a fantastic Memorial Day Weekend! From one basket case to another...

Fock All Campground

Buck  Hall Recreation Area is small-rig friendly campground with only 19 camp sites, 5 with no electricity for hearty tent campers who want a front row campsite on the water.

On a phone call recently someone wanted to know where I was and I said Buck Hall. The cell phone was not clear and they thought I said Fock-All. And that is putting it *ahem* politely.

There was a lot of confusion on the phone before it became clear they had heard me wrong. We giggled ourselves silly.

While camping there, a few more minor repairs were made. My manual retracting front step was a big hunk of rust, but not any more. Now it's shiny black paint. The blue tape is to prevent black overspray on the white paint.

Cooking has almost come to a standstill because my kitchen stool which is necessary for me to reach the odd cabinets, has been pressed into service as a door step for the time being. I was having a bit of a problem using it, so we added some leveling boards to the stool to make it a tad higher. You can see leveling boards under the back rear tires too, the site was slightly askew so the boards compensated by making the rolling home nearly perfectly level.

Amazingly I found this outdoor carpet rug at Dollar Tree for $1 several months ago. It was the perfect size. It's been riding around with me for months, waiting to be installed. The old rug on the step was held together with springs that had hooks on the ends, hiding underneath the step to keep the rug taut. We hammered in four grommets on the underside of the new rug, then attached the springy hooks, so the rug is held there tightly.
 Time to pull of the blue painter's tape and call it a done deal.



Friday, May 22, 2015

Mount Pleasant

I was lost and confused in Mount Pleasant when I saw this sign. 
Do people really prefer parking in three foot high overgrowth?


Harley had chores. 
I try to keep him busy so he doesn't have time to join the gangs or hang
about with ill reputes getting into trouble.
This afternoon I sent him outside to fetch the laundry off the line then fold it.
A half hour later I went to check on his progress.

Life is tough on a wittle doggy.

You think I get lost? These folks and their RV are from Germany. They saw my Virgin Island tags and asked about a bridge from here to there, I gave them directions, then asked about the bridge to Europe.

Life is fun!



Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Piano, Bicycles and A Dog

Minimalist or not.

Tiny home living is series of trade offs.

Lately I am traveling with a dog, 2 bicycles, a piano and a close friend. All that in a little old mini motorhome with no car. Amazingly, we can store everything with a bit of storage room left over and keep the rolling wheel estate rather tidy and uncrowded. Amazing!

Life is funny.

It's been a huge help to me having a friend along because my body has been playing wicked tricks on me, refusing to cooperate some days. My friend has helped me out tremendously because they are willing to help out with the day to day work of living fulltime in a cantankerous camper. We've managed to work together completing many annoying repairs, some small, a few large. Some my friend is much better at than I am. My strength just gives out some days while my friend has amazing energy.

My friend brought a bicycle, a piano and a teensy bag of clothes along for the trip. I cleaned out my junk, taking pictures of silly stuff I perceived as sentimental for foolish reasons, and let a lot of detritus find new homes.

Vintage leather cowboy boots go bye bye.

These boots were only sentimental to me and no one else.

I took pictures of them for the memories and sent them packing to a new home.
When I look at the picture, all the hilarious memories come flooding back inside my brain.
What fun!
These boots have been worn by me in at least 4 different countries and about 17 US States.
Amazing. I put some miles on those boots for sure. We've traveled by sailboat, ferry, plane, train and motorhome. Ironically, I've never worn them horse riding. The last time I rode a horse was in January 1975. I said I was "done" with horseback riding and took up other interesting pursuits.
In the Caribbean (where I lived for decades) folks would laugh hysterically when I put these boots on to go out dancing sometimes. Picture a sarong clad female and cowboy boots in a tropical setting. Sometimes I just felt and looked ridiculous for the helluvit.

I happily wore these boots for 20 years off and on, of fun and foolishness but after my shattered leg healed, my right foot was very different. All my left shoes fit and none of my right shoes. It was maddening! I had to toss out all my shoes and start over. That was around 2006 I think. Someone else wanted my shoes, so they took all of them. Bye bye shoes.

I couldn't bare to toss out or give away the beloved cowboy boots. I kept them around, brought them to America with me, letting them hog up precious cabinet space in the motorhome. At one point I hung them on the wall (also severely limited space-wise). Occasionally wore them for fun and games. But the right one was now extremely painful to wear because the leather boots were shaped to fit my old foot and not my new foot. It was fun to wear them, but I couldn't really walk much in them without great pain. So sad because all those years they were oh so comfy and fit like a custom glove. I used to call them my snake stomping boots because I don't much care for snakes and leather is good protection that a snake bite can't typically penetrate.

As I began clearing out the motorhome my traveling friend was dismayed I was making frequent trips to the dump or finding new homes for old stuff. I told them well, I would rather have them along for the ride than all this junk.

So... that is how we ended up with enough room for my friend's piano...

A frequent commenter on these posts recently expressed an interest in seeing the piano. (So pay attention now!)

Well, in all fairness, it's an electronic piano not near as heavy or bulky as the real thing. I am envious that Willie Nelson travels with a full sized grand piano in his motorhome.

Lucky dude.

In our case we use an old director's chair frame as a piano stand and play the piano outside rather than inside, though we have played it inside in inclement weather. I don't play much anymore, but my friend spent a lifetime career as a musician (now retired) but still enjoys providing me and/or the campground with impromptu entertainment.  By the way that old folding chair frame does triple duty. We put boards on it for an outside table or boards on it for short scaffolding for outside motorhome repairs and maintenance. Sometimes it's been used as a fan stand too. Amazing what one folding chair frame can do when pushed into service.

When the chair frame isn't holding a piano, I place boards on top
to make it into a temporary table.
The boards also do double duty as leveling boards for the wheel estate when the terrain is less than level.
I found a piece of leftover
white vinyl from a window shade that had to be shortened and covered the boards, taping
the underside with gorilla tape so the vinyl is more or less permanently attached to the boards.

Funny how I take trash and make treasure.

Turning my old chair frame into a multi-functional piano stand, table and scaffolding.

Actually, this used to be my chair I sat in. The fabric dry rotten but the frame was super sturdy.

I made a new seat back, but when the seat bottom gave way, I never made a new one as it was
proving to be way too complicated since the frame folds but doesn't come apart since it's riveted and not screwed.
Same chair frame, used as a fan stand. At this particular campground it was super buggy. I was using the fan outside on the old chair frame, to blow away the skeeters and mozzies so I could enjoy living alfresco.

Life is goof.



Monday, May 18, 2015

Pretty Good Shape For the Shape You Are In

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike,
And I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

Excerpt from "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss (Click for more info)

I was frightened and scared  to ride down a super busy highway to
eventually end up here, at a lighthouse I climbed
to the top of many times as a child.

No I didn't climb it on this day,
I don't think I will ever be able to do that again,
but never say never!

The dog went with me and a friend rode on his bike too.
It was like having my own little cheering section to get me there.
(Or maybe I was too embarrassed to let them down.)

Truth is, I have tried many times to make this ride,
but finally after 5 or 6 attempts spread over more than 2 years,
Maybe I should quote from Dr Seuss's "You're Only Old Once!: A Book for Obsolete Children " which finishes on a happy note; "You’re in pretty good shape for the shape you are in!”

Ha ha ha, that's not me, but who knows... miracles happen. 

Dr. Seuss considered "You're Only Old Once!: A Book for Obsolete Children" as a protest against unnecessary and expensive medical procedures. He said he was, “Fed up with a social life consisting entirely of doctors.”

AMEN to that!

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Minimal Storage But Big Life

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Life is beautiful. I woke up alive. The birds are singing. The campground is eerily quiet save for the sounds of nature. My kind of day. A wonderful way to start off a Sunday.

I’ve had several endearing nicknames throughout my life. Two notable ones being “Grace Klutz” and “Klutz Brutha”. Sometimes I just spazz out and oopsy. Cow poop happens. Even my spell heckler can’t keep up with my writing antics such as spazz and oopsy. My offline dictionary doesn't work anymore, so I can’t double check my words at this point so I just have to torture myself, the computer and my gentle readers.

Yes, I am writing this offline. So many (as in nearly all) computer programs are designed to be connected to the internet 24/7. When a simpleton like me wants to do things offline, it seems to create pure havoc and chaos. Oh well!

Yesterday I set about doing a list of errands by traveling in my motor home. I don’t own a car, just a bicycle. So sometimes I have to leave the campground in my wheel estate to travel roundtrip just to complete some critical tasks. Typically I do these on travel days, but sometimes I am forced to consider otherwise. (Travel days are when I am moving from one campground to the next.)

I used to love cities and crowds, but those days are long behind me. So I guess I secretly resent having to travel to a city to accomplish errands, but sometimes it seems like it’s a necessary evil.

On the first errand, things went quite smoothly. Errand number two and I ran into a “Can’t Do” person. It was like crashing headlong into a brick wall. There are “Can do” folks and numerous “Can’t do” people. This “Can’t do” person wasted  a ton of my time and hers. It would have been far more efficient to be a “Can do” person and the task at hand could have been accomplished in 5 minutes. Instead, after about 30 minutes of her “Can’t do” attitude, I simply gave up in sheer frustration. She didn't want to do her job or perhaps she perceived her job as being one of throwing up roadblocks to make life miserable on anyone that tried to efficiently complete business at her place of employment. I left in defeat. The wresting match was exhausting. Ding ding. Round over. You win! (But your business loses.)

The next two errands were interesting and fun even though neither place of business had the critical parts we desired. The third errand I was lost and confused doing about 10 miles of country roads before realizing you can’t get there from here, but the ride was beautiful, even as I backtracked 10 miles again to inexplicably find the business I was looking for which was hiding in an unusual place. It was a Used RV Dealer. Even he admitted that finding his place was terribly hard. He didn't have the part I needed either, but I toured some of his used rigs and did some fanciful daydreaming.

When all was said I done, I climbed back into my little old motor home and loved it even more. It’s cheerful and happy with plenty of windows, something many rigs inexplicably just don’t offer. I want to see my world, not hide from it. I want cheerful colors not drab depressing hide-from-the-world colors. To each their own. It’s just that the rigs I saw look liked they were decorated for living in brutally cold weather with very few windows, many of them tiny then coupled with a dark depressing interior d├ęcor. Ugh. I suppose there must be a huge market for this type of lifestyle but I personally want lots of big windows, sunshine and happy fun colors.

Heaven forbid, the RV manufacturers just didn’t consult with me before they designed their rolling caves. I certainly don’t mean to insult anybody and their personal choice of their camper, it’s just that I have different ideas about what makes me personally comfortable and happy. I am willing to trade storage for windows, so I live in a tiny rolling home with 14 windows and what some might call minimal storage.

I love it!

Life is goof.

14 Windows, with at least one window on every side.

Home sweet home, as of lately...
The expanse of wall with no windows is where my refrigerator and shower live.
I so wish my shower had a window. I would decorate it in stained glass
like my broom closet (there's a toilet and sink in my broom closet.)

Speaking of minimal storage...
I added a rear cargo carrier and a storage box.
That's my bicycle hiding under cover on my
homemade bicycle rack.
Above is a huge window overlooking my
bed sofa. (No it's not a sofa bed, it's a bed sofa.)

Since I mentioned the faux stained glass in the bath,
here it is, an old picture when I first installed the window treatment.
You can buy stained glass window treatments at this link. 
Read more about my broom closet evolving at 

Messing About A Motorhome Bath


Visit Amazon


Saturday, May 16, 2015

Traders Hill Georgia

Traders Hill Georgia

 The river was down a steep hill from the campsite. In the afternoon children from the surrounding country homes came out to swim and swing on a rope tied from the tree on the far right to splash down in the waters.

An ancient oak with Spanish moss dripping.

Sign on the office door politely explains the doggy rules. 

 A thing of beauty.

Rather ironic to attach a metal plant hanger to a live tree.

Home sweet home was oh so pleasant because during this week, no one else was around. The sites are rather small, but we have about a half dozen empty ones on both sides, so our spot looks huge.

Home is where I rock!


Visit Amazon


Thursday, May 14, 2015

Be A Happy Camper

Be a happy camper

I try to be a happy camper. It's why I don't write much about campground reviews, I love every place I go it seems. Well, to be honest, there are two parks I hope to never ever visit again, but never say never. In an emergency, I once ended up in an RV park I said i would never ever visit again. Not surprisingly, it was still overpriced, in horrible shape, even worse than when I stayed there before and the same bad vibes echoed around the place. While out walking doggy, I tried to make peace with the temporary situation and soon as I was strong enough to drive again, I  put that bad spot in my rear view mirror. Va-room!

Bugs and Ticks (But I am still happy)

The past two months no matter where I go the bugs are there too. It almost like an epidemic. I love being outdoors, so I don't complain about the bugs, mosquitoes, noseeums and such. I buy plenty of bug repellent. While I dislike using the stuff, it's a necessary evil to be a happy camper. I want to be happy! So I squirt and spray and smell so awful, even the bugs won't come around me. Yippee!

I also use an outdoor fan to blow away bugs, this often works quite well. When my outdoor fan just suddenly died a few weeks ago, I tossed it in the dump. Believe me I tried to fix it and coaxed it back to life a few times, but the next morning, it would be flat-lining again. Good grief. I didn't want to buy another one, it seems to me the old one should have kept on working, but I also realize that consumer goods in this country are often designed to end up in the dump sooner rather than later. I can't figure out how this helps the environment, creating massive landfills of crappy equipment and consumer goofs, oops consumer goods, that expire way too early,  but it's just another mystery of modern life I don't understand. (And probably never will!)

I am sitting outside by the new fan now, happily blowing away the bugs with electric wind. I also have 6 cans of assorted bug repellent in case any of the buggers think they are going to defeat my happiness. They won't. Life is good!

Too much fun

I don't think I've ever had too much fun, but having fun comes with consequences. Somehow three ticks caught a ride on ME and even though I removed them promptly, two of the bite sites are giving me fits, big angry red swollen blotches. I am slathering antibiotics on the bites and praying for deliverance. I love playing outdoors and well that's where the ticks are hitchhiking, so it's all part of having too much fun. Wheeeee!

Be A Happy Camper

If I get cranky about camping and campgrounds, then I figure it's time to find alternative living arrangements (Pushing up daisies?)

For now I choose to live in a tiny old motorhome and move around to beautiful spots in this big wide wonderful world. Many places I love the most have strict time limits on how long I can live there (typically 14 days) so I have to shuffle along hither and yonder. Other places that I have a great fondness for are simply too pricey for my efficient money management so I have to limit my time there and enjoy all I can of the place while I splurge to be there for a little while rather than a long while. I temper this out by then moving to a place with a cost more in line with my particular budget. That's a polite way of saying cheap. (Very cheap.)

Recently I was in a certain campground park. I am not going to name names or point fingers (but I probably will anyhow). I went inside the park's office and store (same building) to buy something I didn't need.

Yepper, out spending money on stuff I don't need.

OK, if you must know, it was ice cream. A pint of ice cream. In the past year I have bought three pints of ice cream and felt extreme guilt over each purchase (for about 4 minutes). I eat it in teeny portions, so I get about 8-10 servings out of one pint spread over about 2-3 weeks. (I try to make the most of all that guilt and sin.)

I was waiting my turn to pay for the pint of ice cream and wishing the person in front of me would hurry up because the clerk was all alone and looking pretty harried. I was afraid if the person in front of me didn't speed up their mess, my ice cream would either melt or even worse, I might change my mind and simply put it back in the freezer leaving empty handed. Heaven forbid!

I plastered a silly smile on my face and began eaves dropping. The lady in front of me was complaining and complaining and complaining and complaining.

She was not a happy camper.

The clerk was not happy.

I was trying to be happy, but my hand was going numb from holding the frozen pint of ice cream as it slowly began thawing out, dripping on my shoes. I knew I had my chance to return it to the freezer and leave, but listening to this lady complain and complain and complain and complain was like a good lesson to be learned.

Don't be like her. Don't be a miserable.

Be a happy camper.

While eaves dropping, it turns out the complaining lady didn't like her camping neighbors. Their lot was bigger than hers. (I checked later, and it seemed to me she had the bigger lot, but she wasn't utilizing it much.)

Note: This particular campground (like many beautiful places) has erratic sized lots due to nature, stuff like ancient tall trees, bush, brush, undergrowth, overgrowth, mole hills, sand dunes and so on. In numerous campgrounds, the dotted line between campsites is just not clearly defined at all. One camper may think the dotted line runs this way and the neighbor may think it runs another way. For 97% of the campers, this is not a problem. For the other 3%, well um, maybe they should stay home or choose fancy RV parks that are arranged like mall parking lots with clearly defined lot sections (usually because they've deleted all the wonderful trees and other bits of nature in favor of paving paradise!) Some RV parks are so ridiculously cramped, that they have clearly marked out the sites with borders so that everyone knows up front, they are getting a teeny crowded spot with well defined lines. (Not my cup of tea unless there is plenty of nature and lack of pavement!)

Yellow lines mark these spots.

I prefer the erratic parks that have let nature flow and they've arranged the camping sites around nature, not around a precise grid. The camp road curves around nature, not following a straight wide line. Many beautiful campgrounds don't offer up sewer hookups so what this means is often there is an erratic parade of folks meandering to and from the public bathrooms and shower houses which sometimes means crossing over the imaginary dotted line of other's perceived camping spot, in order to get to a restroom that might be randomly placed. Every place is different.

No yellow lines, just imaginary dotted lines.
My neighbors were nice enough, and some very chatty.

This lady felt like the neighbors were taking up too much room. They were laughing too loud, they were sitting outside, they had awnings  and lanterns strung up hither and yonder including one close to the curvy slender camp road. They had pets, they had children, they had a freezer in the back of their pickup truck, plugged into the camp's electricity, they had an outside refrigerator  and they had a big fire going in the fire pit and grills going with aromatic foods and smoke. Camping chairs and toys (big people and small people toys) were scattered around. On and on the lady complained about the camping neighbors. She wanted the clerk to call the rangers and do something about these dreadful campers.

They were having TOO MUCH FUN!

Holy cow. What a disgrace.

OK, just for the record, she did NOT say they were having too much fun, but that is what her problem was in my humble warped opinion. She wasn't happy and wasn't going to be happy until everyone else that was happy became unhappy.

Finally the complaining lady finished her tirade and left the park store. I set my slushy pint of ice cream on the counter, leaving a big puddle while wiping my numb wet hand on the back of my shorts. I smiled at the clerk and I should have bit my tongue and kept my big mouth shut. But since the whiny lady was outside now and couldn't hear me, I said "Some people should just stay home if they can't put up with the thrills of camping with others in beautiful campgrounds."

The clerk laughed and said "You are so right." So I opened my big mouth and let more foolishness fall out, "Maybe someone should tell that lady they have these newfangled things called hotels. Probably a million or more of them out there from the rumors I've heard."

Now the people behind me were laughing too.
Oh what fun, to stir up trouble.
Shame on me.


The fun part about owning a dog is being nosy. Dogs are nosy and it's a perfect excuse for me to be nosy. Nothing is more exciting than something that is none of my business. (I think I pirated that off someone else's signature line!)

That's me, a nosy pirate with a penchant for decadent ice cream coupled with tons of guilt.

So when I heard the ambulance and fire truck sirens blaring as they squealed into the campground, I immediately decided it was time to walk the dog.

My dog is more than happy to stop and sniff around. So we oops accidentally oops walked near the commotion oops. I stopped and my dog began sniffing things, so I pretended to be waiting for him to make up his mind whether or not to pee on that particular patch of ground while I watched to see what was going on. Luckily my dog continued sniffing, then he peed a bit, then he sniffed around some more.

Turns out it was a false alarm. No fire, no medical emergency, just a bad scare.

Next I happened to walk past the offending campsite. The one the complaining complaining complaining whiny woman was fussing about. So I walked really slow while smiling. The campers happily waved and spoke to me, even said my ratty little dog was cute. (Oh I love them now!)

Apparently no ranger had showed up to rain on their sunshine and happiness. I could see not a thing wrong worth complaining about. What was wrong with that whiny woman camping nearby? She wasn't happy and she didn't like it that these folks were happy, so I suppose she was going to try to pee on their campfire in a manner of speaking.

It looked to me like the happy group had rented a cramped spot on a curve, It was somewhat chaotic because the trees were all over creation,  but this group like so many before them had chosen to make the most of their camping by spreading out around the site soaking up nature while enjoying the shade of awnings, the company of kids, pets, friends. Yes it was true they had a freezer in the pickup truck plugged into the campground electricity and they had a little refrigerator outside the aged camper trailer. Their firepit was roaring with a well stocked fire, the grills were cooking delicious food that made my mouth water. Their animated conversation was no louder than any body elses. Everyone appeared well satisfied and  contented.

Happy campers! 

Nearby was the complaining whiny lady on her campsite with a male person who also looked miserable.  She didn't have company or children, she didn't have a fire, or extra fridge or freezer, or grills or awnings or a pet. They just sat there glaring at the happy group nearby, I expected steam to be pouring out of her ears she just looked so very angry and miserable. Yet it was a beautiful campground, one of the world's most spectacular unspoiled beaches was just steps away, the towering ancient trees provided lots of shade, the random undergrowth was exquisite in colors, textures, smells, and beauty. The weather was darn near perfect around 70F degrees.

I smiled at the lady and her male person. They scowled back at me. They owned a new shiny expensive motorhome (you really can't buy happiness but some folks will never accept this as fact.) I kept my great big mouth shut. I decided to speed along cause if what they have is contagious, I surely don't want it. Doctoring up tic bites is enough of a worry as it is, but I earned those tic bites by being happy, so what's to complain about? Scoot along. Mind my own  business. I can't change the world but I can change myself (if I work super hard at it!)

I felt sorry for her and said a prayer "Please dear Lord, help those poor souls and don't let me ever end up like that." I suppose I should have been more grateful for having this excellent lesson presented to me first hand. So I say it now, thanks for the wake up call.

Life is long, death is short.

Be a happy camper. (Tic bites and all.)


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