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.             .