Carrabelle, Florida

     Baby developed a sore on her chin in Ohio. Despite meticulous cleansing with peroxide and compresses, it gradually developed into an abscess. I took her to a veterinarian in Gulf Shores (the taxi ride was a whole adventure in itself), who diagnosed oral cancer (and abscess) and, given the probable diabetes and kidney failure at her age, strongly suggested euthanasia. I weighed the decision and decided to treat the abscess. One massive injection of antibiotic and within 12 hours the odor of abscess was diminished, within 24 hours the swelling was nearly gone, and by 48 hours there was no discharge. There is a tumor in her jaw, but she is still eating well and enjoying life. I think (I hope) I did the right thing.         
     I left Gulf Shores Tuesday in pouring rain. I spent 90 minutes and $300 at WalMart stocking up on pet food (48 cans of cat food for Baby alone) and groceries. It rained the whole 260 miles. We pulled into a rest stop on I-10 and when I got back behind the wheel, the Goose would not start or jump start off the generator. I ran the generator while I ate lunch and checked email. I went back into the rest stop to get my exact location, preparing to call AAA or Good Sam Roadside Assistance. When I tried the Goose one more time, it started without hesitation.
    With the shopping trip and starter delays, I got into the park after dark. By the time I got set up and fed and walked Gracie, there was no time to even check out the location. Wednesday it rained all day, and we walked just a short distance between cloud bursts. Today was beautiful and we explored down the beach at low tide and walked for miles. The scenery is amazing. We are parked steps from the sea wall. There’s a pier out into the water and lawn chairs at the end of the pier to pause and take in the view. It’s a very small park, maybe 50 spaces, and it’s the first adult-only park I’ve been in; very peaceful.
     At low tide in the morning, there’s an extensive expanse of beach, maybe a couple hundred feet, where there was ocean the night before. There are little tide pools teeming with waterlife, and there are shells everywhere, especially when it rained the night before. The birds flock and swoop, feeding on the various things that washed up, dead and alive. I am so intrigued by the shells and birds I ordered guides online. I think the big helmet-like shells were blue crabs. I recognize brown pelicans and sea gulls, but that’s only a small percentage of the birds.  
     At high tide there’s not a lot of beach. The palmettos, pine trees, and impenetrable brush and vines grow to within a few yards of the water. There’s mounds of bug-infested, stinking sea weed along the edge of the woods, which seems to fascinate Gracie. Butterflies, especially vibrant orange and black monarchs, flit fearlessly in front of us. The proximity of pine cones and butterflies to seagulls and ocean, is surreal.          
     There’s Christmas dinner in the park tomorrow. I am making pasta salad. I bought Gracie a huge chew roll and me a nice calendar for Christmas, and I got the DVD of The Help to curl up and watch Christmas Day. I got the turkey tenders I liked so much at Thanksgiving and a wrapped sweet potato for Christmas dinner. I’m looking forward to a wonderful holiday.  

Letting the Universe Do Its Thing

     This “not working for a living” is new to me. I had my first real job at 15, working for a veterinarian ($1.16 an hour), and have worked steadily since. I have never taken a vacation as an adult. (There was a trip to Niagara Falls with my first in-laws. There are many names I could have given that trip, but “vacation” would not be one of them.) 
     For the last 40 years I suppressed my interests because I was too tired, broke, or guilty because I should be studying or investing time in my children or partner. Now I have leisure and means to do whatever I want, if only I could figure out what that might be.    
     I discovered I like movies. I haven’t watched movies regularly in decades, so they are all new to me. I bought a few at a swap meet in Ohio for a couple dollars each and added a few every WalMart bargain bin I walked past. I have been watching Jack Nicholson’s hair line recede, and George Clooney’s go gray. 
     I have always loved to read, and I indulge that passion with my Kindle. I like biographies and true stories. Dick Cheney’s “In My Time” was interesting. I just finished Dianne Keaton’s “Then Again.” It was very good. Tina Fey’s “Bossy Pants” was good. Ellen DeGeneres “Seriously . . .I’m Kidding” was disappointing. Mitch Albom’s “Have a Little Faith” was so good and well-written I cried and laughed aloud. I just downloaded “We Bought a Zoo.”
     Music is back in my life. My sister (I decided to drop the “in-law” ) Julie showed me how to download tunes and burn my own CDs. My tastes are really eclectic, from “Born to be Wild” by Steppenwolf to Kid Rock’s “Born Free” to “This Land Is Your Land” by Sharon Jones and the Dapp Kings. No sappy love songs in all I’ve downloaded, all freedom and fun.
    I do Sudoku puzzles while I watch television to help keep my brain sharp. That’s my excuse, anyway. .   .  
    It amuses me that I establish rituals, no matter where we are. In Ohio Gracie and I walked to the mini-mart every morning for lottery tickets. Here I take a cup of coffee to the park across the street every morning and Gracie and I watch the waves in the lagoon.
    I’m still convincing myself I don’t have to be “doing” anything, I don’t have to have every minute of every day planned and packed full. In her book “Living Without Reservations,”  (which, incidentally, planted the seed for this journey) Barbara Singer says it’s about slowing down enough to let the universe do its thing. I’m still learning to do that.              

Random Thoughts on Alabama

     How do I describe the accent in Alabama? It’s not really a southern drawl, but it is a very distinctive dialect that places the accent on the first syllable of some words. I will never say ‘De-cember’,’ ce-ment’, and ‘po-lice’ the same way again. Sentences end on an uptone, like a question. Vowels are nasal. Even the local news anchors sound “down home.”
     The illegal immigrant debate here is interesting. The locals want the governor to back down on recently enacted strict laws on illegal immigrants. The farmers are afraid there won’t be enough field help. The governor vowed that only legal immigrants will be able to work in this fine state, then promised he will address the restriction on obtaining drivers licenses and renting living quarters without documentation.
     Football trumps every other concern. “Go Auburn” and “Crimson Tide” banners and flags adorn every car and truck. Even President Obama on 60 Minutes was a no show—there was a football game on here.
      Used car dealers, dentists, mattress stores and other commercial enterprises make pitches in print ads and on television for residents’ “BP money,.” trying to make the case that a better car, nice smile, or good night’s sleep is a deserved investment in oneself after the trauma of the oil disaster.    
     There’s no state lottery in Alabama. I miss my crossword scratchers.  
     I thought people in Arizona were the only fools who tried to cultivate lawns where Mother Nature never intended grass to grow. Wrong. White ankle-deep sand here, and people try to grow grass on it. Good thing the grass doesn’t grow well—a lawn mower would sink in the sand.      
     I wonder who thought ‘Piggly Wiggly’ was a good name for a grocery store?
     There are Christmas decorations on and around almost all the RVs in the park. Not mine. Some of them are pretty tacky—I could have lived without seeing a lighted Christmas wreath around the neck of a pink plastic flamingo. Lots of little sparkly Christmas trees in the front windows of motorhomes. Most of the folks are here until April, and they really settle in with wooden steps, lawn furniture, and signs in the “yard.” I’m ready to leave. A month was too long to stay here. Gracie is ready to go, too. Another ten days . . . .

Baby

     Baby is not an affectionate cat. I have had her since 1995, and she was perhaps two or three years old when she came to live with me. I have at least three scars from her bites over the years, and countless healed scratches from her back feet (front were declawed when I got her). One night shortly after we left Arizona I reached out during the night to pet her and she was morbidly cold. I stuffed her under the covers, expecting her to protest, or at least try to free her head above the covers. Her reaction was unexpected.
     I sleep in the fetal position. Baby readily burrowed into the cove between my padded thighs and droopy boobs and curled her boney bottom against my soft stomach. She has slept that way every night since, completely submerged below the covers, vibrating gently (she doesn’t really purr, just vibrates) and radiating warmth. She leaves her burrow a couple times during the night to eat, drink water or use the litter box, by sliding her body up mine and slipping out between the sheets. My suggestion that all three functions could be accomplished in one trip is met by a disdainful glare. She returns dripping water from her chin, smelling of cat food, or shaking the litter from her paws and pats my cheek to regain admission to her cave. I lift my arm and she slides back between the sheets.  
     This is not an ideal situation. Kitty litter gets caught in the long hair on her paws, so I have to sweep the sheets every night. Baby smells really awful. At age 19 or so, she isn’t diligent about grooming and she smells like a sour washcloth. I try to keep her combed, and bathe her occasionally, but the odor returns quickly. Her breath smells fruity. She’s so thin her skeleton shows through her long hair, so I suspect she may be diabetic.
     I struggle with the decision to have her euthanized. When I realized she had few teeth left, I started feeding her canned food. She eats well several times a day and enjoys soft treats and occasional bites of my dinner, even though she continues to lose weight. She uses the litter box regularly. She curls up and sleeps in the sun most of the day. Her last veterinary appointment in August (when she bit the veterinarian, an assistant, and me), the vet proclaimed her basically healthy, although her kidneys are apparently shriveled. She does not seem to be in pain, so I keep postponing the decision.
     I am thankful for having her company for so many years, but I do not want to extend her life for my benefit if her quality of life is compromised. Sigh . . . .   

Gulf Shores

    The “campground” at Tiffin was a bizarre sight. There were about 200 motorhomes camped parking-lot style, most waiting for service. The Goose was dwarfed by the giant Zephyrs and Phaetons with four slides, washers and dryers, giant-screen televisions, and more. The folks parked next to me had been waiting two months for completion of their repairs. Almost every motorhome had at least one large or two small dogs. The only amenities the campground provided were full hookups, hot showers, and a very clean laundry room. My neighbors advised me that Gracie barked the entire time I was gone to take a shower. She’s never done that before, but I’m attributing it to this cramped location.
     The repairs and servicing took seven hours. I pulled into a giant bay, and the service guys rolled humongous jacks up to the Goose. Gracie and I were ushered out, and they lifted my home about six feet up in the air! After the oil was drained, they lowered her gently and I was able to breathe again. My repairs were not major—figure out why the Goose randomly won’t start and why I don’t have heat or defrosters in the front. Change the oil, check the anti-freeze and tire pressure completed my list. The conclusion was I needed four new batteries ($120 each plus labor) and a heater valve. The total bill was just over a thousand dollars.
     I left Red Bay around 4:00, and oh, the Goose ran well. I didn’t have a reservation for Monday night. I figured we’d stop at a WalMart or a rest stop for the night. We never saw a rest stop the entire way, and the WalMart was posted with No Overnight Parking signs. We finally pulled into a gas station in Buckatunna, MS (you can’t make this stuff up) and parked for the night. Tuesday morning, the Goose would not start. Fortunately, I now know the jump-off-the-generator trick. It was rainy and chilly, so I turned on the heat and nothing but cold air came out the vent. So much for the repairs.
    One more stop at WalMart. We’ll be in the next location for a month and I don’t want to have to make continuous runs to the grocery store. Green bananas, a bottle of wine, extra dog and cat food; I’m set for the month. We pulled into the Island Retreat RV Park Tuesday afternoon. Nice park, large lots, very level.
    Wednesday we hiked to the beach, five miles round trip, on a really nice bike trail. Beautiful white sand, crystal blue water, gentle waves and big NO PETS ON BEACH signs. I was really disappointed. But on our walk this morning we found a public boat launch just across the street that will provide Gracie with a nice place to swim.
    Thanksgiving luncheon was today at the clubhouse. The park provided the turkey and ham, and everyone else provided side dishes and desserts. It’s a long time since I’ve eaten at a potluck. The food was delicious. I went mostly just to meet people, but it looks like the whole park is couples, most of whom know each other. I sat with two couples who will both be here until April. I’m not ready to stay in one spot for six months.
     There is so much I am thankful for this Thanksgiving I cannot begin to list everything. The best way to sum it up is to say I’m thankful for the opportunity to live my dream.              

Good Friends and Bad Campgrounds

     Phyllis was my mentor and only friend when I was first promoted into management. I went from a temporary employee in Arizona to manager at AT&T headquarters in New Jersey in seven months, and I had no clue what challenges I would face. She helped me discover my moral compass amid the glory grabbing and back stabbing that is corporate reality. And there were times that, living in outrageously expensive northern New Jersey, I would not have had lunch had it not been for Phyllis; “Girl, I made the best chicken and rice last night and I brought you some for lunch.”  I went to her wedding to Jack 13 years ago, and although that was the last time I saw her, we’ve kept in touch through promotions, downsizing, illness, crappy jobs, and personal drama. 
     Our reunion was joyous and fulfilling. We talked privately in her finished attic for two hours as we shared the most intimate details of our lives. Phyllis is a breast cancer survivor. She is currently working in a call center on the phone, being managed by supervisors who do not have a third the knowledge or ability she has as a manager, trying to be grateful she has a job. Her grown son and two grandchildren have moved in with her and Jack.
     We joined Jack downstairs for cake and soda. Jack is as laid-back and calm as Phyllis is dynamic and outgoing. Jack walked me out to the Goose, parked in the driveway. Phyllis is afraid of dogs (even gentle Gracie) and allergic to cats, so she said goodbye at the door. We copied the directions from Gypsy on how to get to the campground, and Phyllis promised if she could scrape the gas money together, we would see each other again before I leave. I drove the 20 miles back to the campground feeling warm inside.
     This is officially the worst campground I have ever stayed in. The laundry room (two partially working washers and one working drier) and shower/bathroom need a thorough scrubbing and fumigating. The water smells like kerosene. The owner, a chain smoker named Pam, says it’s well water and she has to treat it. With what, I wonder?
    The good side? We woke up this morning to deer outside the front windshield. There are more cardinals and bluejays than I have ever seen in one place. The campground is spacious; my only neighbors are a free-roaming flock of chickens and ducks (which drives Dylan crazy). There are several horses in a corral outside my window.
     With no television reception at all, I have gotten so much done on my writing website. I uploaded all my articles, created the home page, added a picture, and got the feature, humor, and travel pages completed. Two of the pages I created (product reviews and club profiles/meeting coverage) apparently did not build, so I have to redo them, but I have all the elements in place, so that shouldn’t be too difficult.
    Saturday I am going to get propane early, gas up, go to the WalMart in Lewisburg and drive to Red Bay, AL. I have an appointment to get some work done on the Goose. Then on to Gulf Shores.         

Leaving Lebanon

     Leaving Lebanon sounds like the title to a play. I’m not sure if it would be a comedy or a tragedy. Julie and Terry took me out to eat at a steak house Friday night. We had a great time talking and laughing, although the specter of me leaving the next day hung over the festivities. Saturday morning. I secured everything, put in the slide, disconnected the utilities, jumped in the driver seat, and—nothing. The goose would not turn over. I called AAA. They sent a boy from “OOPS! Collision”. He had never seen an RV battery (“I usually work on, like, Honda Civics”) much less worked on one. I figured out that there is a way to jump the battery from the generator, and got it started, and it ran fine all the way to Tennessee.   
     So we left Lebanon, Ohio, two hours later than planned. I wanted to get into the campground before dark to set up, so we stopped only once briefly in 370 miles for a necessary break for Gracie and me. I followed Gypsy’s directions all the way to what I thought was the campground only to find I was in the state campground next door. I called the campground and the owner came in her car and led me in. By then it was dark; really dark.
     I got the sewer line set up, and found the electricity. But the water faucet is in a wooden box, and I have a plastic protector on the end of the hose, so the hose would not fit down in the box. I finally remembered that I have a spare length of water hose that came with the Goose when I bought her that I determined wasn’t long enough. So the short piece is connected to the faucet, and my regular hose is connected to the short piece. All assembled in pitch black with a flashlight held in my mouth. So I solved three crises in one day without breaking a sweat. I’m getting better at this.   
     Kentucky is an odd state. There are big billboards with biblical passages on one side of the highway, and WalMart-size stores of ADULT books and videos on the other. And I have decided that even the back roads in Tennessee are better than the highways in Kentucky.
     I had an epiphany one evening in Lebanon, while walking through the cemetery at dusk on a full moon. (I should explain that the cemetery provided a major shortcut from the campground to downtown Lebanon. I wasn’t just hanging out in the cemetery.) I have been wondering why my emotions are so close to the surface these last few months. I have shed tears of joy at the sheer beauty of some of the sights I have seen, and tears of gratitude for the emotions I have experienced. I think it is because this is the first time in my adult life I am not depressed. My depression was never severe enough to prevent me from fulfilling my responsibilities, just enough to blunt my emotions. I think of how much joy and beauty I missed because I was numb with depression, but I am so grateful I have the opportunity to catch up for lost time. 
     I can’t wait for daylight to check out the park. This is a horse camping ground and there are trails everywhere. Gracie should be thrilled. I put the slide out, but I haven’t really unpacked. I want to go visit my friend Phyllis tomorrow. Exploration and friendship; sounds like a good Sunday.             . 

The End of a Wonderful Month

     What a fantastic month! Julie and I did a whirlwind of activities. We did some highbrow activities: a performance of the Dayton Philharmonic playing the score to the 1935 movie Bride of Frankenstein on the Thursday before Halloween; a community performance of the play ‘Almost, Maine’ at the Middletown Lyric Theater; the comedy play ‘Basement Ladies’ at La Comedia dinner theater in Springboro. We went shopping: Jungle Jim’s International Market, Trader’s World swap meet, Treasure Aisle swap meet. We drove around the area: Caesar Lake State Park, King’s Island, The Beach WaterPark. We ate great food: The Golden Lamb in Lebanon, Chinese food in Springboro, Italian food at LaRosa’s. And we hung out: walking the dogs, sharing simple dinners, watching television, soaking in the hot tub with a glass of wine. I met Julie’s wonderful friends, who readily befriended me. I don’t have siblings, and never realized what I was missing until now.
     Yesterday we had early Thanksgiving with all the trimmings and the whole family—three nephews, Del, Chris (who arrived later after working all night), Bruce, Del’s lady Cassie, and Bruce’s sons (my great nephews) Chance and Braden. Only Terry, Julie's husband, who was on the road, and Mackenzie, my great niece, who was spending the weekend with her mother, were missing. I hadn’t celebrated Thanksgiving for several years, and it gave me time to give thanks for all the wonderful things I have experienced this past few months. It was lovely.
     I had some luck with repairs to the Goose. The lights in the slide were not working, so I called the mobile repair man to the park. He fixed the electrical problem, helped me with the awning, showed me where the switch to the water pump is hidden, and gave me a referral for the repairs to the side of the Goose (from the unfortunate encounter with the cement post in California). A quick trip to Cincinnati, a fair cost for the repairs, and the Goose is patched up!
    I have had my frustrations, too. I explored getting my dental problems fixed, but found it is either too expensive or too time-consuming or both. I tried to get a secured credit card to facilitate renting a car, but since I don’t have an income I was turned down. I thought that was the whole point of securing the credit card. I have had the use of a vehicle while here, and it is a great convenience I will surely miss.
    The best part is we had a good time, everything we did, and I have a wealth of good memories and experiences to last a lifetime.
     Unfortunately, it’s getting cold. There are a couple days this week when it will be Indian summer warm, but nights are getting close to freezing. It’s time to get going south. I have my reservations secure for my next spot, Chapel Hill, Tennessee, starting Saturday. A week or two there, and then I think I will head to Gulf Shores, Alabama.  

A Gift of Days

     Every day is a gift and the last ten days have been Christmas. Gracie and I went to Julie’s Monday evening to do laundry and watch Dancing With the Stars. I tried a new recipe for chili (not that good), but it was fun to experiment. Tuesday Julie picked up pizza and breadsticks and we watched the elimination. The dogs are all adjusting, and Gracie seems to enjoy visiting her new friends. She must feel like Gulliver in the land of Lilliputians, with five little dogs who together do not equal half her weight..
     Thursday I joined my nephew Bruce and his boys for spaghetti-o-rama, a Thursday night tradition. The spaghetti was good, and getting to know my grand nephews and Bruce as an adult is wonderful. They live in a very neat apartment only a mile from the campground. Friday Gracie and I walked to downtown Lebanon to explore and buy some postcards. I found the Golden Turtle Chocolate Factory and did some damage to my normally good eating habits with chocolate walnut fudge. It was so tantalizingly good. As a bonus, we ran into a couple from the park, also walking, who advised us of a shortcut through the cemetery back to the park.
     Saturday Julie and I took Mackenzie, Julie’s granddaughter and my grand niece, on the historic train in downtown Lebanon that chugs out to a farm where we petted animals and trekked through a corn maze. Mackenzie will be ten on Tuesday, and she is a lovely, well-mannered, wise-beyond-her-years child. It was a glorious fall day, the apple cider was fragrant, and the fresh winesap apples I bought are incredible.
     Sunday Julie, Mackenzie and I went to see Disney on Ice at the Nutter Center. The performance, in true Disney fashion, was lavish and fantastic, and the skating breath-taking. We stopped at a Logan RoadHouse to eat on the way home, and introduced a delighted Mackenzie to the tradition of eating peanuts and tossing the shells on the floor.  
     I have had bouts of being overcome by happy tears when I realize how close I came to never getting to enjoy the pure fun, good times, beauty, companionship, and family.                 

Lebanon Ohio and Family

    Julie’s husband, Terry, is an over-the-road trucker, and he was out of town, so I fixed salmon and quinoa in the Goose for Julie and me while we bridged a 20-year absence with laughter and conversation. Julie and I were married to brothers; both are now ex-husbands. We have been through harrowing times together dealing with difficult men and raising sons, and have a bond like soldiers who have seen battle together and survived.
     Friday Julie finished up early at work and gave Gracie and me a tour of the surrounding countryside. Lebanon is an adorable town. I expected Mr. Rogers, in cardigan and sneakers, to be waving from a porch near the historic train station. There are lots of little antique and curio shops in the historic downtown I look forward to exploring. Julie lives in Carlisle, about 20 minutes away, in a large house in a neat community surrounded on all sides by cornfields and train tracks. We picked up excellent Chinese food and introduced Gracie to Julie’s five little dogs. There were fewer skirmishes than we anticipated. 
 .   Saturday my nephew, Bruce, who I haven’t seen in almost 20 years, and his girlfriend Amy fixed a wonderful lunch of potato soup and seven-layer salad. I met his beautiful sons Braden and Chase. Sitting at the dining table with family was almost overwhelming.
     We picked up the returning Terry after lunch. I had not met him before, but Julie had described him in terms that led me to expect an unassuming, affable, easy-going pet lover. I was not disappointed. He was easily in accord with Julie lending me their Durango so I have transportation during the day.
     Sunday Julie and I went to a gigantic indoor swap meet, Trader’s World. Whimsical statues of wild animals, with an emphasis on towering giraffes, decorate the acres of shops. We wandered around for three hours, looking a lot and buying a little. Then we escaped to Olive Garden for lunch. It’s perfect fall weather, in the mid 70’s with a light wind. At almost 9:00 at night I still have every window opening airing the Goose out and filling it with the wonderful smell of fall.              

A Destination Reached

     I had forgotten how many shades of yellow, orange, and red there are in the fall colors. Just when I think I’ve never see anything as beautiful as a tree decked totally in fluorescent yellow, there’s another in a red so crimson it glows almost purple. I didn’t realize how much I miss the changing seasons.
     At several spots along the highway there are signs supporting gun ownership like the old Burma Shave Signs: He tried to do a violent crime/I had a gun/He did the time. If it is peace you seek/Do not take guns/From the Meek. 
     The rest stops in Indiana prohibit overnight parking! Do they think it’s better to have a sleepy driver on the road? We pulled into a WalMart parking lot in Shelbyville, Indiana. I only have about 100 miles to go, but I don’t want to get in so late I’m hooking up in the dark. So we spent the night in the parking lot. Bless WalMart for their corporate attitude towards RVers.
     It rained again. I think it has rained every day except two. Okay, Universe. Have we not made up for 16 years in the desert? I can’t check into the RV park until 1:00 pm, so we took the morning easy, hoping the rain would lighten up.
     I am planning on visiting my sister-in-law Julie for a nice long stay, maybe 21 days. The park has a reduced rate for longer stays, and I’m ready for a break. I was researching my projected next stop to see my cousin in State College, only to discover that the KOA in State College charges $61 per night! Sorry, Karen—it may be a very brief visit! Or I may head south after Ohio and catch the Pennsylvania friends and family after winter is over. It’s fun being totally free.
     I made it to Cedarbrook Campground in Lebanon, Ohio by 1:30, and am parked in a beautiful spot surrounded by orange and yellow trees and dozens of squirrels, and the sound of acorns rolling off the roof. I hesitantly put out the slide. I hope I can get it back in. I did some housework and reorganized a bit. Julie is coming over after work. I’m safe and I’m with family. Living the Dream.

A Night with Yogi

     After a night at the service center, a new alternator and rewiring everything that burned (and $800) we were back on the road. I said I would give a shout out to the Auto Truck Center. They are open all night and weekends, and because their bread and butter is semis, they have everything in stock and enough personnel to get the job done. They are in Cedar Rapids, IA, (www.autotruckcenter.net). The Goose is running great. The nice Indian man at the BP station pointed out that the 89 proof was cheaper than the 87, and I think the Goose likes it better. Then he gave me $1 off on my Blimpie’s sandwich at his shop next door for lunch!

     I am so impressed by the rest stops. We stopped in one in Iowa that had about 12 tables under shelters scattered about a perfectly groomed lawn, and a walking trail for dogs. We encountered big lime-green hard-shelled fruits on the ground by the hundreds, called hedge apples. I think Gracie thought they were over-sized tennis balls until she discovered they tasted nasty. We stopped in another rest stop in Illinois (Spoon River) to eat lunch (the Blimpie’s sub), and again enjoyed a wonderful walking trail on crunchy fall leaves across a covered bridge, up steps to a hill top viewing station. The colors of the leaves and the wildflowers are magnificent. I have captured these scenes in my memory for peaceful places to return in thought when the going gets tough.
     I was tempted to park for the night, but I’ve been three days without a hot shower. So we spent the night at the Yogi Bear Jellystone Camp in Goodfield, IL. It is by far the most expensive park I’ve stayed in ($38), so I charged everything I own: Kindle, LapTop, WiFi, Cell Phone, Plasma TV, even the DustBuster. I showered twice and colored my hair. Checkout isn’t until 2:00, so we’re kind of lounging about, ready to take another walk and eat lunch before we hit the road. It’s 72 degrees and the fall colors are amazing. The park is decorated for a Halloween celebration they are having this weekend, and since most of the RVs are monthly residents ($500 plus utilities) they are all decked out for the celebration as well. I’m getting my money’s worth!

Things that Go Wrong Right

     Today I was stranded by the side of the road somewhere in Iowa for four hours. Every truck that went by shook the Goose and made my heart pound. Let me digress.   
     The rest stop was fine—it was quieter than some of the RV parks I’ve stayed in. It was raining again when we left. I think the universe has decided to make up for all those years I spent in Arizona. It has rained eight of the last eight days I have been on the road, except when it was snowing.    
     Minnesota was all fields of corn. Pheasant season is supposed to start this week, and I had hoped to spot some of the magnificent, vibrantly colored birds. My dad used to hunt them, and give me the feathers to play with when I was little. We always had pheasant for Thanksgiving and turkey for Christmas when I was growing up. No luck. 
     We stopped at a WalMart for groceries. I found a couple CDs in the bargain pile—Janis Joplin, John Denver, and Jim Croce. Dead artists go cheap, I guess.
     I stopped for lunch and gas at the Iowa welcome center. Gas has been reasonable since I got off the West Coast, between $3.22 and $3.36 per gallon. I saw some nice fall foliage, and a Pennsylvania Dutch (hmm . . .probably Iowa Amish) symbol on a barn.          
     I was cruising, letting Gypsy guide me (not paying attention to where I was), listening to Janis wail, when Gypsy announced, “Powering Down.” Then the needle on the alternator went into the red and the Goose died. I barely got her off the side of the road; she doesn’t coast much.      
     I called AAA RV service. Of course the first question was “Where are you?” and I had to reply, “I don’t know.” The nice girl at the call center tried to figure it out by where I had been. She guessed wrong, which ultimately didn’t matter because the first truck dispatched broke down. I posted my dilemma on Facebook and my sister-in-law called.
     Julie’s solution was genius: “Go to your GPS, go to Attractions, and find out where the nearest fuel is.” I’m four miles from the Brandon (population 311) Kwik Mart, which puts me on I-380. I’m found!
     It was getting dark, so I turned the generator on to power all the lights in the Goose so we didn’t get hit by one of the semis that was making the Goose shudder. If I’m going to waste all this gas to power the generator I decided I might as well fix dinner and watch Dancing With the Stars.  
     Above the stove is a panel of lights for the status of the two holding tanks, fresh water, LP, and batteries. I have gotten in the habit of checking it often. Wait--batteries are back in the green! I tentatively shut all the accessories and turned the key. The Goose is alive. I quickly turned it off.
     When the tow truck driver arrived, we decided he would follow me into Cedar Rapids (30 miles) and when he knew everything was okay would take the lead to get me to the repair place, where I am now, which is open all night. So I didn’t have to be towed and they are going to check out the charging system. Even when things go wrong, they go right.         

Mt. Rushmore and Crazy Horse

    Thursday morning was clear and cold. Utah is amazing. The salt flats are like an unfinished paint-by-number where someone forgot to paint in the water. You would swear there should be water there, but it’s just miles of sand, ripples and all. The Great Salt Lake looks so out of place. Most bodies of water have the ecological niche to match, but the salt lake looks like it was dropped in.
     Snow again in the passes. Baby has taken to curling up in my lap while we’re traveling. My own little lap warmer. Gracie sits in the passenger seat until she gets sleepy, then naps on the couch, right behind me.  
     We spent the night in a WalMart parking lot in Evanston, WY. I picked up some CD’s to fill out our sparse music collection as well as a few groceries. We woke to snow on the ground, Gracie’s first introduction to snow. She was not impressed. It was easy driving Friday except for the wind. Wonderful scenery: majestic mountains, wide fields of grain, and antelopes in fields along the road with their white butts up in the air. Somewhere I passed the continental divide. The Goose was pulling hard, but we made it.        
     Friday we stayed at the KOA in Douglas, WY. Park was lovely, with an enclosed dog area. There were lots of bunnies huddling under the RVs for warmth. Gracie doesn’t chase small animals, thank goodness. It’s really chilly, and I’ve seen more rain in the last week than I saw in 16 years in Arizona.
    Saturday was the most inspiring, incredulous day so far of my journey. My only regret about some of the items on my bucket list is that I can’t share them with Gracie. Not that she would care, but it means more to me when she is there. It’s hard to explain, but because she was with me for so much of the bad circumstances of the past two years, I feel she is a part of me. So I was looking forward to the Crazy Horse Monument and Mt. Rushmore, but a little sad, too.
     At Crazy Horse, I asked about RV parking and was told to take a ramp at the edge of the parking lot to the bus parking on the upper level. I maneuvered around and as I stepped out, there was the face of Crazy Horse above us! Obscured from the regular parking lot by the visitor center and observation deck, it is clearly visible from the upper parking area. I went to the visitor center, watched the information video, picked up a few items, and returned to the Goose to fix lunch and look at the monument with Gracie.
     Then at Mt. Rushmore, incredulously, the same thing happened. The long RV/bus parking area was nearly empty and provided a perfect view of the monument. After I went to the visitor center, I took Gracie for a walk under the watchful eye of Abraham Lincoln, with George Washington in profile. Despite the biting wind and rain, it was a perfect day.
     We spent the night in a rest stop outside of Wall, SD. This morning we went to Wall Drug. It’s a cute little tourist stop of shops and entertainment. Back on the road again. South Dakota Black Hills (they really are black) and badlands in the fog and rain are behind us, we crossed the wide Missouri and we are in the very corner of Minnesota. I think we’ll spend the night in the rest stop here. The weather is wonderfully mild—I put the winter coat and gloves away, and shouldn’t have to run the heater tonight.        

      

 

Rain, A Bad RV Park, and Snow. Living the Dream.

     The Goose started fine this morning, but I discovered the banging sound in the wind last night was the light above the back-up camera, hanging by only its wires, hitting against the back of the Goose. So I climbed up the ladder on the back of the Goose and taped the hanging lamp back into its socket. The duct tape doesn’t look so great, but it works.
     The first part of the journey Tuesday morning was Chamber of Commerce Oregon—rocky mountain streams through craggy mountains and twisty mountain roads from one charming town to another. There was even a sign to watch for big-horn sheep (although I didn’t see any). Then I slipped onto another planet.
     The mountains were devoid of anything but shrubby vegetation. The roads angled up the mountains. The Goose could barely get to 35 miles an hour at times. The peaks were the highest I’ve ever been, each one topping the previous at 6120 feet and 6240 feet. Between the peaks miles and miles of shrubby vegetation. No signs of life anywhere. I saw maybe two or three cars per hour. There were highway signs to watch for burros and horses, but that was wishful thinking. Somewhere Oregon became Nevada.
     The driving was hard. The road was two-lane and narrow. For hours there was not even a place to pull over. Finally a rest stop! Two picnic tables and an outhouse with no running water. When I finally was on a real highway I stopped for the night in what I will officially call the worst park so far, in Battle Mountain. It was tucked in behind the truck stop, so there was noise from the trucks all night. Somehow I didn’t notice the train tracks across the street when I checked in. The showers and bathroom were in the truck stop, a hike across the parking lot. The RVs surrounding mine? Let’s just say I was glad I’ve got Gracie.        
     It was cold, really cold Wednesday morning. The front heater and defroster don’t work, so I have to pull over frequently and wipe the windshield. After one such quick wipe, I noticed there was snow on the tops of the mountains in the distance. It’s been raining for three days, so I wasn’t all that surprised. And then in the mountains of Nevada, I was in a snowstorm. Snowplows and everything. The Goose handled beautifully in the snow. After more road construction, more fogging and freezing, I pulled into a KOA in Wendover, on the Utah line. Time for a hot shower, heat, propane, and a good night’s sleep.       

Back to Salmon Harbor and Gone Again

     Back to Salmon Harbor. There’s a problem with the repairs to the Goose. When I hit the cement post, I bent something in under that will not straighten out, so one of the doors cannot be easily reattached. We ran out of time on Friday, so I checked back in to Salmon Harbor so we could take another look at things Monday.
     Bad news--it’s rainy and chilly. Good news—the Goose does not leak and the heater works fine.
     No way to fix the door on the storage unit. The aluminum cannot be straightened out because there’s nothing to brace a jack against. The piece can’t be removed and straightened because the only way to reattach it would be welding and there’s so much fiberglass and plastic it would go up like a flare. So I loaded the new door into the bay that was repaired and I left with a big gaping space in the side of the Goose.
    I said good-bye to Jayleen while she snuggled under the covers with her kitty, and woke my neighbors Don and Karen (sorry!) to say farewell and left about 9:30 am. It rained the whole way on the Redwood Highway. Not nice to find out the heater (off the engine) does not work and therefore the defogger does not work. And the gauge says the battery is not charging. I was going to stop for repairs in Grant’s Pass, but there was a line of people waiting at the service desk. The Goose starts fine, so I kept going. The rain didn’t stop until Klamath Falls.
     I was going to keep going until I found a rest stop, but I saw a sign for an RV park about 6 o’clock and pulled in. I drove 300 miles today, and that’s about my limit. I’m just outside Lakeview, Oregon. It was cool and pleasant when I pulled in and fed and walked Gracie, but now the wind is whipping so hard the whole vehicle is rocking, and it just started raining. I hooked us up, but decided not to put the slider out. Dinner was salmon, brown rice and vegetables. No television reception, so I’m missing Dancing With the Stars. Between worrying about whether the Goose will start tomorrow and the wind I don’t think I’ll get much sleep tonight.
     I think I’m on the way to Mount Rushmore.                   
     

Rocky Point on the Lower Klamath

     What is that saying about the best laid plans? The parts did not arrive to repair the Goose, but I had already paid for the spot in Rocky Point on the lower Klamath Lake and arranged to have my mail forwarded. So Wednesday I was on the road again. Part of my trip was on Highway 199, known as The Redwood Highway, twisting through breathtaking beautiful stands of giant redwoods that scrape the heavens and are inches from scraping the Old Gray Goose. I stopped in Grant’s Pass at a WalMart and bought way too many groceries just because it was so nice to see foods I recognize at prices I expect in places I can find. The refrigerator door wouldn’t lock (so it won’t fly open in transit). My theory is—if it won’t stick and it should, use duct tape and if it sticks and it shouldn’t, use WD40. Big swath of duct tape solved the problem.
     After about four hours on the road (175 miles), Gypsy performed flawlessly and brought us exactly into camp. I parked under three magnificent trees, the smallest of which is 10 feet around. Unlike Smith River where the temperature barely fluctuated ten degrees, it was in the 40’s last night and is expected to reach 80 this afternoon. I picked up my mail (mostly final utility bills for the house, which strangely seems a long time ago), determined that my satellite won’t work (probably because of all the trees), finished the vegetarian chili for dinner and fed and walked Gracie. The stars in the clear night sky were bedazzling. Who needs television when Mother Nature puts on a magnificent display?  
     The positioning of the Goose is perfect. It’s a pull through, nicely level spot. The bath house and office/store are in front, so Gracie can see me from her favorite perch in the driver’s seat. The view from my dining room table is out onto the water. A not-very-hot shower started my day. Breakfast was hot waffles with blackberries. A fat chipmunk munching seed outside the camp store ignored me as I dropped off my outgoing mail.
     Gracie and I walked a couple miles. All along the road are low, shiny-leafed holly plants with the bright blue berries that will turn red by the holidays. Flanked by lush ferns, they could have come straight from a florist display. Paths through the woods are cushioned by layers of pine needles. I found a pine cone nearly a foot long. Alas, we missed the raspberry season, but Gracie does not seem disappointed by the lack of edible berries. Do I even have to mention that Gracie went swimming?    
     Doing laundry was the cheapest so far, one dollar per load and a dollar for over 30 minutes of drying. We fired up our little barbecue grill and Gracie and I cooked pork steaks and grilled ears of corn for dinner over charcoal. Tomorrow I have to back track to get the Goose repaired. This was a nice respite from the coast.    

Still Life in Salmon Harbor

     Thursday Jayleen and I went to the Fred Meyer in Brookings, Oregon again for groceries. We stopped on the way back at the Harbor of Brookings. Among a group of charming shops and restaurants is a shop called Slugs and Stones with amazingly good ice cream. We got giant cones and strolled the boardwalk in the sun and salt air.The tsunami damaged the harbor in the millions of dollars, but the rebuild is remarkable. 
     Friday we "crashed" the empty residence of a wealthy real estate developer down the coast to watch the sun set over the ocean from the back deck. Jayleen’s friend is the caretaker of the property when the owners are not in residence. The house is spacious with views to die for. The wood floors and gas fireplace are warm and inviting. Sadly, the decorator ignored the fabulous location; the formal, almost entirely beige, interior cries out for color and character. The furniture is stiff and uncomfortable. There was a time I would have envied the owners their beautiful home. Not now.
     Several afternoons have been warm enough even in late September for Gracie to swim in the river. She loves to chase the tennis ball in the water, oblivious to the audience of harbor seals. 

     Saturday there was a whale sighting. The spout would appear first, then the back of the whale gleaming in the sun. Unfortunately they were out beyond the reef in the ocean, so I could not get pictures One more thing off my bucket list

.   Since then the ocean waves have been high, slamming the rocks in glorious displays of cascading curls and streams. The river is calm, some mornings almost a mirror but for the ripples where the harbor seals splash or the sea birds dive.
     Monday I take the Old Gray Goose in for repairs. Wednesday and Thursday nights I am booked at a camp ground in Klamath Falls, Oregon. Every now and then I have to plan ahead so I can request mail delivery. I shall miss this place, and plan to return, but there is so much more to see.      

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Life In Smith River

    Thursday I took The Old Gray Goose to an RV repairman a few miles up the road. The problem with the slide was a loose ground wire, easily fixed. The repairman took measurements for the covers on the storage compartments, and is fairly sure when he straightens something under the unit, the fiberglass will pop out. He ordered a new antenna as well, and will call with an estimate. It will take a little longer than I had hoped, so I’m here at least two weeks. 

    I set up again, relieved that we have space to spread out a bit with the slide-out. Jayleen and I went to the Fred Meyers across the line in Oregon. Fred Meyers is Fry’s in disguise (I even earned gas points on my Fry’s card), and I found everything for some nice meals with ease.
    We were in the frozen food aisle when my phone rang; Brandie, the paralegal for Breyer Law, the attorney handling the claim against the driver who ran over Gracie and me. Did I have a moment to talk to Alexis Breyer? They were able to obtain a second settlement for underinsured motorist coverage! More money to fund my amazing journey.
    I have had a beautiful and calming week. I wake at sunrise without an alarm, exercise with Margaret (groan!) on DVD, shower, eat breakfast and walk Gracie on the beach. There are hundreds of seagulls, egrets, cormorants, and turkey vultures swooping and posing on the rocks. The harbor seals splash and play or lounge on the island a few yards out. Gracie splashes in the frigid water. I read (love my Kindle!), surf the internet, walk Gracie, talk to Jayleen and relax the rest of the day  Daytime highs are in the 60's, and nighttime lows are only a few degrees lower. We haven't needed the furnace. 
     Sunday I walked to the liquor store across the street for Sunday newspapers. One afternoon Jayleen’s friend and my neighbor Karen joined us on a dusty walk down a country lane lined by late-summer wildflowers. Jayleen and I each fix our own dinners (she’s vegetarian) and eat surrounded by her troll doll collection in her neat little home. Last evening we made reservations up the road at The Nautical Inn for crab-stuffed shrimp, the most delectable dish on earth, and watched the sun set over the ocean.
    The blackberries are on the vines in abundance, and I have picked a couple quarts to freeze and eat. Yesterday Jayleen joined us on our berry-picking expedition, and taught Gracie to eat blackberries off the vine! Gracie was sucking up every one she could reach. Good thing they don’t seem to have affected her digestive system.
    Today I am packing up and taking The Old Gray Goose down the road to begin the repairs. Thursday my mail should arrive from the forwarding service. Life has its own peaceful rhythm here, and the effect is healing.        

   

First Destination and Friendship Renewed

     I did not wake up until 6:30 am, late for me. Showered and fed, and Gracie walked, we left the campground at 9:00 am. Gypsy led me around the Santa Rosa traffic nicely, and back onto 101-N, where she announced, “go 361 miles on the 101". 
     Acres and acres of vineyards gave way to mountains that reminded me of western Pennsylvania, rolling hills of green. I pulled into Ukiah for gas. On the way out of the station, I scraped the side of the concrete post at the edge of the gas pump, damaging the side of The Old Gray Goose and two of the storage compartments. Easily, I bet, a thousand dollars in damage. I am heartsick.
     I decided that what is done is done. I was about to see some of the most spectacular countryside in the United States, and I could let it be spoiled by one misguided turn, or I could enjoy the beauty and deal with it later.
    The redwoods are amazing. Describing the size is impossible. Neither pictures nor words adequately capture the majesty and beauty. There are sections of highway where the tops of the trees hundreds of feet up form such a dense canopy it darkens the road. It is truly breathtaking.
     The road winding through the redwoods is a challenging drive, especially in a motorhome. The turns are so convoluted even Gypsy was confused and tried to recalculate several times. At places the redwoods are so close to the road I was sure the mirrors would touch (they didn’t, thank goodness. I don’t need any more drama right now). There are quaint little roadside attractions every few miles. Sasquatch (or is he Bigfoot here?) seems to be a favorite. Pulling the hills was slow—the Old Gray Goose is hauling a lot of weight-- but there were passing areas and traffic was light.
     About the time I was trying to figure why the area was designated a tsunami hazard, we broke out of dense forest, suddenly on the coast with miles of sandy beaches and the clean smell of salt water. There are dozens of turnout points for watching the ocean. I don’t stop. I am close to my first real destination, Smith River, to see my friend Jayleen    
     I lived with Jayleen in a small condo in Mesa when I first came to Arizona in 1995. We talked and laughed and ate Chinese food from cartons. When my family joined me four months later, she purchased a mobile home in Apache Junction and I moved to my home a mile or so away. I failed to maintain the friendship/family balance, and I was sad but not surprised when she moved to be near friends in California. 
     Jayleen has been waiting all day for me when I finally pull in around 4:30 after 323 miles. I have a nice spot across from her neat little camper, two spots over from the bathroom, shower and laundry, and across the parking lot from a spectacular view of the river inlet to the ocean. It is chilly! I change into jeans and grab a jacket, we walk Gracie near the river, and have dinner at the casino a mile up the road. We catch up on years of our lives and journeys, and are soon  laughing and finishing each others’ sentences. Tomorrow I will deal with a slide that won’t slide, a bashed-in panel, a snapped antenna, and a bathroom window that won’t stay up. Tonight is for friendship.       

    

Challenges in The Old Gray Goose

     I have had a couple challenging days. I left Needles in overcast skies and sporadic rain, but at least it was cool. Barstow to Bakersfield is long and boring. It looks a lot like the back way to Casa Grande through Coolidge—lots of groves, green only through irrigation. I couldn’t recognize the trees until I saw a sign that said ‘pistachios.’ Why don’t all the farmers put up identification signs?  Other than that, it’s the same old dry desert and dust. I keep reminding myself that it was once the bottom of the ocean. That makes it more tolerable for a minute or two. I stopped for groceries at a Stater Brothers store in Barstow and found everything I was looking for, then had a sub from a shop next door. Back on the road.
     Bakersfield looks like Phoenix from the Durango Curve, all tired old businesses in peeling metal buildings. There’s even an exit for University of Phoenix.              
     North on I-5 was when boring turned to awful. Traffic started to get heavy and I needed gas. I pulled into a Valero station in Kettleman City. I waited in line for gas for 20 minutes or more while cars cut in line and backed up to the pumps in front of me. Finally I could ease all 34 foot of me to the pump. Suddenly a man was banging on the RV. Apparently he had pulled in the other way and parked so close to me that when I eased forward, I put a three-foot scratch on the side of his pick up!  We exchanged insurance information. I got gas and pulled to the back of the station to calm down only to discover the passenger side mirror was hanging off the side, held only by the wires! Who can I get on a holiday evening to make repairs?
     I pulled out my tool box. I did not have any screws that would work. I went back to the gas station and bought some longer sheet metal screws and started back to the RV. A couple in a pickup pulled up. “You need help?” the driver called. “Yes, I do", I replied. Together we cut some concrete anchors to stuff in the holes and I held the mirror while he used a power screwdriver to put the longer screws in. I offered him $20 to buy dinner, but he said, “No, just pay if forward.”
     Adrenaline pumping, I drove for miles and finally pulled into a rest stop near Los Banos for the night. I walked Gracie and was grateful that I had made a cold chicken casserole (canned chicken, pineapple, green onion, red pepper, napolitos, and bulgur) the day before. Yogurt and my emergency York peppermint patty (I deserved it) for a treat. I slept fitfully, although it was cool and relatively quiet. First thing this morning I called the insurance company and filed a claim, then called the “victim” and gave him the claim number and the adjuster’s name.
     I can’t tell you the exact route after I-5. I set the GPS (I’ve named her Gypsy) and just followed her instructions. I ran into a massive traffic jam around Livermore, and went over a bridge at San Rafael that provided the first glimpse and smell of the Pacific Ocean. I started to calm down. I stopped for gas in Petaluma (the awning looked low, so I pulled at an angle so I could reach the hose to the tank without actually going under the awning), then stopped for lunch at a County Park, parked under the trees so Gracie and I could be outside. I checked the RV park guide and found a campground nearby at the fairgrounds in Santa Rosa. For $22.50 for the night I have water, electricity, shade and most importantly, a shower. So yesterday I travelled 430 miles and today 199, for a total of 976 so far.  
     I hooked up by myself (no, I’m not tackling the awning), but now the slide won’t come out. It might be a blown fuse. Tonight I don’t care. That’s a challenge for another day. I finally named my motorhome. She’s the Old Gray Goose, as in “The old gray goose she ain’t what she used to be.”       

Recharged

     I intended to spend another night in a rest stop. But when we got there, no shade, blazing heat, my body odor and a homeless man camped out in his car made me change my mind. I pulled out the RV Parks and Campgrounds Directory with little hope of finding a place to stay on a holiday weekend.

     “Nothing on the water, but I do have two spots open,” the nice lady at the Needles Marina Park, about an hour away just across the state line in Needles, California, said on the phone. When I got to the park, my luck persisted—there was one spot left on the lagoon. I took it for two nights.
     With help from a new neighbor, I am parked and hooked up. The slide is out and there’s lots of room. I have electricity (and the air conditioner works on electricity, just not on the generator) and water, the shower and laundry are just behind me, and the Colorado River is in front of me.
    Of course there are glitches. I tried to put up the awning, and it stuck halfway. The park handyman rescued me. I discovered why the radio won’t work—the antenna is snapped off. I’ll have to have that fixed somewhere. The pull down tabs on some of the window shades are shredded. I will have to pick up some new ones and stitch them in. 
   Gracie is in heaven. She gets to swim every time we go outside. The RV has an outside sink and spigot so I can wash the sand off. The cats are cooled down. I recharged my laptop, WiFi, Kindle, DVD player, cell phone, portable TV, and me.

 

    

On the Road

      I have a confession to make. I like elevator music. So I was lying on a queen-size bed with Gracie and Dylan listening to the most awesome radio station out of Prescott,102.1 KAHM, pronounced “calm, feeling very calm the first night in my new home.

     It had been a very long day. I got hours behind on Thursday with a problem with the propane and then again Friday with an air conditioning glitch, which is persisting. I didn’t finish cleaning the house until Friday afternoon. So we spent our first night on the road in our motorhome at a rest stop, Sunset Point, only 100 miles north of Phoenix. I was tired, traffic was heavy, and I’m not on a schedule.
     Gracie and I watched the sun set from a fantastic vantage point looking over a beautiful valley. I had a frozen entrée for dinner, fed and walked Gracie, washed up in the rest stop rest room, made a cup of tea, and fell asleep to elevator music. 
    Oatmeal with skim milk and blueberries and hot coffee for breakfast. I’m loving being self-contained. Back on the road at 7 am.,rested and appreciating the light traffic. Rounding the corner leaving the rest stop, the dining table detached from the wall and tumbled across the motorhome! Luckily, it missed both cats, but they were freaked.
     I got off the interstate and took the road through Prescott Valley and then into Prescott, looking for an open RV repair place, with no luck. Finally I parked in the lot of a closed sales and service facility and walked to the only place that was open, an auto repair shop. They hooked me up with A-Z RV 24 Hour Mobile Service. Tim Giese screwed and glued the frame back into the wall in minutes, and when I asked how much I owed him replied, “Ah, whatever. I live just across the street.” I gave him $40, which in retrospect, on a holiday weekend, was not enough.
     Quick stop at WalMart (love open parking lots when I’m trying to swing a 34-foot coach around) for supplies. Onto I-40 at Ash Fork. Gracie has taken over the couch, Baby has established a post under the now-solid table within easy reach of litter box and water, Dylan has commandeered the bed, where he can see the length of the coach in comfort. On the road again. 

One Last Time

     It has been a week of “One Last Time.” One last time to climb Silly Mountain with Gracie, one last trip to the dog park. One last time out to dinner with my dear friend Amy. One last cookout on the back patio in the shade of my grape vines. One last frozen yogurt at The Good Apple. One last time to trim the bougainvillea and water the trumpet vine. So bittersweet.

     Amy threw me a.going away party with a few close friends who have touched my life and, I’m proud to say, I have touched theirs. Normally I detest this sort of thing, but It was a lovely way to say goodbye to some very special people    
     Perhaps I smoked a bit too much weed in the 60’s, but my older son. . .well, let’s just say he marches to a different beat. A way different beat. He and his wife live in a trailer powered by a generator off a dirt road in Snowflake with chickens and cats and a dog named Black Jack. I’m not proud to say I’ve been very critical of his life style in the past.
     I sent an email to daughter-in-law letting her know my plans. She replied that the engine was blown in their car but if I got to their area, they would get a ride to meet up with me. The day before the man who was supposed to take my car regretfully declined. So I rented a car (I can't drive for eight hours without air conditioning) and drove to Snowflake to retrieve Andrew and Jennifer and a generator that needed repair, and transferred the car to them.
     Andrew looks older than his 40 years and I wonder if the strained relationship between us contributed. Well, I can’t undo the past. I know a 93 Buick doesn’t make up for how self-righteous I have been in the past, but part of this journey is about mending relationships and I hope this is a start. 

Making Decisions

    My entire life every decision I have made has revolved around the people in my life: parents, husbands, children. Now everyone is either gone or no longer reliant on me. I am free to make my own decisions, and I am having difficulty making decisions without guidelines.

     One decision I did not struggle with was leaving my job. That I worked eight weeks between the time I was informed of the settlement and had the check in hand can be attributed to my inability to believe that something good could actually happen to me. In my exit interview I was asked what I liked about the job and I replied, “It was air conditioned and there was no heavy lifting.”
     Buying the motorhome made perfect sense. I have lost my home and am now renting it. I do not want it and I cannot keep up with repairs. I want my best friends (who happen to have four legs) with me.
     Buying it was the first major decision I have made on my own for myself. I researched on the internet, drove all over the east valley looking at various  motorhomes, and ended up back at the first one I looked at. I bought a 34-foot 1994 Allegro Bay. There’s a slide-out section so the living room/dining room/kitchen expands to nearly twice the width of the unit. There’s two televisions and a queen-size bed. I bought two new tires and had satellite installed. It feels right.
     I am pushing myself to enter the current decade technologically. I got a laptop computer, arranged for WiFi, bought GPS, and even an e-reader. I’m thinking about a smart phone. There have been glitches—I purchased full Geek Squad support and have been back nearly every day for help. But I’m learning.    
     Making decisions is a learning process, and I am sure I will make some mistakes. I am trying to learn to trust my intuition, make decisions, forgive myself the mistakes, and move on.