Goofiness

Woke up alive.
Little time to write.
Moving again on a moment's notice.
Hurricane Irma may seem like yesterday's news, but dang it I am still dealing with the aftermath.
Been trying to get the park to remove the big dead tree limbs dangling precariously above me.
Hard to sleep at night.
Every little roof noise wakes me up.
I ran from hurricane Irma and stayed gone almost a month. Even checked with the park manager before I returned and was told my lot had been cleaned up and was ready to be occupied.
I arrived dead tired, with both doggy and I very sick and discovered  dead tree limbs just dangling there above my RV, way out of my reach. 
Yesterday, through a fluke of good luck and those angels always looking out for me, I managed to snag the tree trimmer truck and the manager simultaneously.
AH HA!
Of course I was in my sleep shirt which thankfully had no embarrassing stains, rips or tears but my hair looked like serious bed head,  not at all in a Hollywood way either.
Normally I wouldn't venture outside to engage in conversation looking like a wreck, but I was desperate to get these dead limbs out of my way.

They said they couldn't reach my trees so it would be postponed until spring.
Spring?
I said well how about I move out now and then your tree trimmer truck can move right in.
Somehow it had not occurred to them that I was mobile.
Or maybe they wanted another excuse to skip me and my lot?
Who knows?
Before the manager could deny this wonderful suggestion, the tree trimmer guy jumped in and said that would be awesome!
I started packing up right away.
Every bone in my body ached, I surely needed rest, I'd had so little sleep, but here I was in my sleep shirt packing up to move during the heat wave. 
I wanted those big dead branches  gone before they killed my roof or me or my dog or all of the above resting below.
Forget the coffee, just push myself as fast and  hard as I could.
Take down the awning.
It's a cantankerous piece of cow poop. It's been damaged by storms repeatedly since last summer.
However, it's mostly functional with a great deal of effort, mutterings and I smile at it.The smiling keeps me from saying those unprintable expletives.

The awning is on The To Do List.
List is long, wallet is short. 
Note to self: get longer wallet!

Meanwhile back to moving.
AGAIN.
Clear my lot completely so the tree trimmer truck can get into the back of it where the trees are.
Move the picnic table.
This is clearly a two person job, but there was just no one around to help. The manager and tree trimmer had sped off in their golf cart.
So I had to inch it around between grunts and groans and prayers.
AND SMILING.

Next hide my bicycle where falling limbs couldn't get it when the tree truck started work.
Pack away my current work.
Put away works-in-progress.
Stash everything laying around the inside of the rig getting ready for travel.

Take today's list of things to do and toss that out the window.

Unhook all the umbilical cords. 
Feed the unhappy doggy.
He was whimpering and crying. 
Apparently he is tired of traveling.

Move the outdoor chairs.
Move the other outdoor table.
Move the umbrellas and heavy stand.
Find places for everything to go to avoid the dead limbs the tree trimmer will be tossing down while  cutting.
I was sore from head to toe, breathless, thirsty and just pushing myself as hard as I could.
Suddenly the tree truck drove by and I hustled to go flag him down.
Sweat running down my face, my shirt one big gooey stinky wet mess.
"Please, I am just 30 seconds from driving away, I just need to unplug the electric and jump in the drivers seat!"
He backed up the truck to let me out.
I drove to an empty spot in the park to rest a few minutes and put on some day clothes.
Then I walked the doggy back to the  lot, he still needed some poop time. Might as well go take a look-see.
It's a good thing I had done all that work, because the tree trimmer had quite the time getting his bucket truck on the very back of the lot, then weaving his bucket up through the tall tree canopy to start chain-sawing away.
No matter which way he turned his bucket he was bumping another heavy tree branch.
Apparently the manager had told him "dead stuff only, leave the rest."

Back at my rig, I tried to think if I had any errands to run.
My brain was so tired, my body was exhausted, but make hay while the sun shines!
I knew there was something critical.
Now what was it?
Something that needed repairing.
Well, I could think of several dozen repairs I needed, but what was that critical one that involved my safety besides the trees?

Oh yeah.
The windshield wiper blades were murdered by the suicidal black bugs that attacked us more than once a few weeks ago.
If it rained again while driving, I would never be able to see, so this was  an urgent problem.
I drove to a discount auto store to buy cheap blades.
Of course they were out of cheap blades, but they do include free installation which is nice because I can't quite reach them myself. My step ladder was back at the lot. I bought the next set up from the cheap out of stock ones.

The youngster installing them didn't understand how hard he had to push to get them on.
He did understand how to break the old windshield wipers while removing them the wrong way.
Trying to put the new ones on he kept saying things to avoid work.

"This must be special RV stuff."
"The holes are too tiny."
"Well, I can't get these blades on."
"You have to go to an RV shop. "
I was trying to answer him.
"My mini motorhome has a standard Ford van E-350 front. Nothing special about my wiper blades.
Please don't tell me you can't find a wiper blade to fit a Ford? In America? What is the world coming to?"
"You said your computer claimed to have them in stock in five assorted price ranges that all fit this make and model. "

I assured him I had bought windshield wiper blades from his store before (same franchise, different town) and they always just popped right on.
I asked him if he had a big step stool or step ladder, I could just climb up there and put them on myself. He had already broken the old ones before I could stop him. Although they were pretty useless, seems like it would be easier to remove them the correct way than to just bust them off.

Seems if he was strong enough to bust off the old ones, he should be strong enough to install the new ones. Why this 45 minutes of farting around? It was comical. Hadn't his boss noticed the kid hadn't come back to work lately?

I ended up describing to him how to push HARD to get the blades on and through that hole he claimed was too small.

SNAP! Blades went on.  Then there was the buckle type thing, he was about to leave dangling when I began telling him how to put that on. He was sure I was wrong. Wiper blades just have a dangling buckle. I picked up the box laying in the parking lot. Here you go,  there are instructions on the box. He didn't want to read them, but he did finally finish with the buckle on the blades.

I thanked him.

(Seems like he should have thanked me.)

Why are they sending this youngster out to install wiper blades if he doesn't know how to do it?

Were they waiting for a customer to show up and train him?

They must have a mountain of profit builtin to those wiper blades if they can have an employee spend 45 minutes installing one pair. 

Life is goof.