Men like to barbecue. Men will do the cooking if danger is involved....

I'm a day behind for telling this new story, but better late than never. The forecast predicted thunderstorms and rain the other day, though all we got were clouds and a few showers late afternoon. Not a single lightning bolt or clap of thunder. Now I told you that story to tell you this one. Later that same day, at nine somethingorother (several minutes into Justified, which is why I remember), the "beep beep beep" annoying sound came on the television and the blue National Weather Service screen popped up to warn us of a tornado. But it wasn't raining. It wasn't thundering. It wasn't "weathering." We looked outside, saw no clouds. Saw the stars, actually. But the tornado sirens (remember the wolf cryers?) were wailing that a tornado was imminent. I look online, and sure enough there is a nasty little circle of a storm coming across the airport and heading our way. TJ and I hem-hawwed around, debating whether to change out of our jammies and wake up the boys. With so many false alarms lately, did we really have to get them out of bed? So we look outside and take note that many of the campers have emerged from their RV's and headed to the laundry facility. So my argument in the "for" category was that no one had paid attention before and sought shelter. And just our luck would have it had we not left the camper we would have been hit dead on by the tornado, had there been one. So we put on flip-flops, leashed the dog, wished the cats the best of luck, and toted two sleeping boys up to the impromptu neighborhood gathering. No one was inside, mind you. Still no clouds to be seen. Ten minutes later a young man comes to tell us the storm had passed exactly south of where we were and that the "all clear" had been given to go back home. By now I've missed a good half hour of my show, and realize I have to stay up to watch the encore presentation of it at ten. So I'm a little cranky. Surely there has to be a better way with this tornado warning mess. Chicken Little could only cry "the sky is falling" so many times til no one listened, and I very much am falling into that same category with this stuff.
The little storm brought back cold temperatures, and I kid you not when I say it was just that day that I had put away winter clothing and gear to welcome in spring. Ha. Learned my little lesson.
It will be just the boys and I on Saturday so I scanned the internet looking for "things to do." We flew kites last weekend, so what did I discover for this Saturday? The Peter Cottontail Train Ride. Sounds fun, right? Twelve bucks a piece! For thirty-six dollars I am sure we can find something else to do that doesn't involve me corralling two little boys by myself for half an hour. I'm sure it would be a matter of minutes before that train ride turned into the highway to hell for me. There I go again, being a glass half empty-er. Who knows. Maybe we will try the ride. But an adult dressed in a rabbit costume may scare the pants of the kids, Santa didn't go over too well the first couple of tries- and he gives gifts!!

If you can smile when things go wrong, you have someone in mind to blame!

Ah, the joys of Spring. The birds chirping, the flowers blooming, the pollen, the rain, the bees. Oh dear Lord the bees! We have two massive bees (wood bees? Carpenter bees? something like that) which have adopted our little slice of heaven here at the campground. They stand post outside our camper and chase away all smaller flying insects...and humans! They stare you down as you walk outside, just hovering, daring you to come closer. I only wish I was kidding. The boys are terrified of them, screaming "Biggle-bee Mommy! Biggle-bees!" And then, laughing of course, I correct them with "Bumblebees." Though their way is much cuter- and much more fun to say! Titus is our "beekeeper," as he chases after them chomping. I'm guessing one of two things: 1) they do not have stingers or 2) they value their lives. I'm not sure, but both seem like pretty true possibilities. Or else we would have had a dog with a bump on his bum.
Springtime also brings shedding time, so all three animals are losing their fur at incredible rates, causing me to have to vacuum (on my hands and knees) almost daily. And what about the "change of seasons?!" Two weeks of window-opening weather does not a springtime make! Now as I sit and type the air conditioner is whirring, as it's too stinking hot to open the windows during the day. Thank heavens I was born during this century, because had it been any other era I would have surely needed to be royalty to survive!
True to trailer-royalty form I have clothes outside drying on hangers and racks. I do not fully trust the pay dryers- they either shrink or fade almost everything. So anything we value must be air dried. I wonder if there are rules saying we aren't supposed to be doing that?
I suppose that is all for today. That floor isn't going to vacuum itself- trust me, I've waited! Stay tuned....

Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea...

As I sit here typing my beautiful feline friend Mazi is curled up next to me. I'd like to think it's because of his love for me, though I know it's because one of the boys is taking a nap in my bed (where the cat usually naps). But I'll take it. There are nasty dark clouds rolling in over the mountain to our west, and I am eagerly awaiting the "sky is falling" sirens that will inevitably play. And once again, I'm sure those sirens will be crying wolf- at least for this locale.
We have a new transient next door, just arrived today. It's a motor home circa 1981, fully equipped with hot pink and bright blue striping. Hot pink? That's a commitment to tacky-ville right there. I'd love to see my husband's face if I ever seriously suggested hot pink be anywhere in our life! There is also a trailer two rows back that is quite large, and it is a horse trailer! The back third has adequate traveling facilities for (looks like) four horses, and I am guessing that the front is a regular camper. But I've seen no horses, and I have been wrong before. Oh dear, thunder rumble number one! There's the whistling wind in accompaniment.
I'm potty training the three year old. He hasn't quite learned the difference between #1 and #2. He says "I gotta go peepee" and then sits on the toilet to be followed closely by "I gotta go poopoo" and stands up and turn around. If he's anything like his brother, there will be at least one point where I'm not around to catch that mixup but just in time for cleanup. The joys of motherhood?
Well I believe there are dishes serenading me from the sink. Not gonna wash themselves, believe me, I've waited!

Life is like a bath: the longer you stay in, the more wrinkled you get....

Ode to Washer and Dryer
Oh my dear washing machine, how I miss thee
You always got my clothes perfectly clean.
Each piece you would wash with care and ease,
Your settings I knew, oh what a breeze!
But now I don't know the temperatures, the pictures aren't right,
And now my whites come out less than white!
Dear dryer, I miss thee with desperation as well,
My jeans remain damp after the first drying spell!
These fraudulent stand-ins leave lint among the clothes,
The fading and shrinking is adding to our woes!
It's said you don't know what you've got til it's gone,
And now public facilities I use, it's just so wrong!
I promise when we are reunited once again
I shall ne'er take either of thee for granted, amen!

Don't tell me the sky is the limit when there are footprints on the moon....

Our three year old is officially scared of bugs. Any and all bugs, apparently. Screams like his head is being cut off regardless if it's a stink bug or wasp. He does not discriminate. Bugs be warned.
It is a beautiful, gorgeous, amazingly incredible day outside. I've basked in the beauty of it under the retractable awning. The dog got a bath. I feel bad for the guy. There is no temperature gauge on the outdoor faucet so he is forced to take icy cold baths. Here's hoping my theory about the summertime water temperature is incorrect!
We took a stroll around the very populated RV park this afternoon. As we walked we happened upon a strange sight- a homemade RV. It was a regular bike-size trailer put on an extended flatbed trailer with what can only be described as a domed porta-potty behind it. Honestly I have no other words to describe it. It was incredibly creative, though I would not want to use it during wintertime. Who wants to wander outdoors in the ice and snow to pee?
I've noticed that people in RV parks tend to keep to themselves, which I find odd. To be in a camper speaks of some sort of adventure, yet no one goes out of their way to be neighborly. Oh well, I guess when I reach retirement age I may not want to talk to people either. There are some very interesting neighbors camped near us. One RV, let's just say it's heyday was during the time of Carter (maybe Reagan), has a picture of a surveillance camera mounted to the front of the bumper and a dazzling Dodge Neon with fascinating fixtures and lights mounted to it's rear in tow. A surveillance camera, really? Wouldn't want anyone to break in and see the...you know what? I'm going to stop there.
We are grilling out tonight, so I prepared the chicken in individual foil wrappers and made potato salad and steamed asparagus. Apparently I wanted to see how many pots, pans, and utensils I could dirty for one meal. Mission accomplished: almost all of them! As I type there is no room on the "counter" as all the dishes are taking up the room to dry! Let it be noted that the husband has not washed nor put away a single dish since....well, years actually. But I guess that's what he has me for. However, it still amuses me when he has no idea where certain items are. Then again, I guess that's one of the best parts of marriage- the laughter!
My evil plot to turn my bedroom into a cave is almost complete. We have three windows in the bedroom, and as my eyes are incredibly sensitive to light I managed to put a car-window-sun-shield-thingy in the window over our head with very little resistance, but met some other resistance for the remaining two. After several sleepless nights in the beginning I convinced the spouse to place a dark towel over another window. Two days ago I placed a towel over the third (remaining) window and blamed it on the "three year old's nap time" needing darkness. Let's just say that the plot was uncovered and I won that battle- the cave stays put! Blissful, relaxing darkness reigns!
Well now there's a three year old yelling at me for apple juice. Stay tuned for another exciting episode of "Mommy I want apple juice!!!"

No one needs a vacation more than the person who just had one....

So my husband asked me on multiple occasions whether or not I would blog about this past weekend. I ran through my mind trying to tie Daytona Bike Week to living in a camper, and the following is what I came up with (all by myself)...
We got to leave the confines of our house on wheels this weekend to live the luxurious life in the Hilton Garden Inn which we shared with two of our closest friends. It was 40 hours of blissful, kid-free, adult only time which went by way to fast and we enjoyed to the fullest possible extent. There was laughter and dancing (and yes, both of those went together), bike riding, beer, axe throwing, fabulously trash-tastic outfits, and an ER visit. The ER visit had nothing to do with the axe throwing as it turns out, though I believe the throwing of the boot may have been preempted subconsciously from said event. All in all, it gives me a great story and in truth a scar is a better souvenir than a t-shirt any day! 40 hours was not nearly enough, but I am so grateful to have had those hours and to have crammed as much fun in as possible. And if voraciously needing some small amount of adult only, away-from-kids time makes me a bad mom in some way then I suppose I'm guilty as charged. It only rained one of the three days, which happened to be during the ride from Dade City to Daytona, and thankfully the weather held up beautifully so that we were able to bask in the sun.
But would someone please explain to me why they had porta-potty attendants and we were supposed to PAY to pee?!? Hysterical!No one pays ME to attend to the potties here in Camp Hickey!!!! I digress....
We returned home to rain however. Wind howling, camper swaying, cold rain falling has been our welcome wagon. Which brings moisture. Which as everyone knows is my nemesis. It also brings laziness out in me, so while my housework and chores have been accomplished, I've hid indoors since Monday and have not escaped to the gym. Part of it is laziness, part of it is the superglue on my forehead that looks like a loogie. From what I gather it takes 7-10 days to come off. The perpetrator of the incident (whom I love dearly and hold harmless by the way) felt so bad saying, "I've scarred your face! I'm so sorry!" To which I replied, "I live in a freaking trailer in Alabama and stay home most all days! I'm 34! It's not like I had a modeling career! Who cares?!" It's just a good excuse to stay indoors til next Monday. I'm extending my "vacation" through the weekend, as it were. Looking forward to a relaxing and do-nothing weekend with the boys, with the weather "experts" predicting perfect temperatures and skies. Hmph. I'll hold my breath!
Now, back to interesting stories.
The boys have a toy holder that consists of five fabric boxes in a shelving system. It matches, it's not very space consuming, and it serves a good purpose. Unfortunately, it contains many many many small toys. And for them to find the one exact toy they want (which is always in the last box they look) they feel inclined to dump each one out on the floor. It's very messy. The amusing part to me is when I say the fateful words: "clean it up," they always respond with "help me!" Ha!  And it always happens that after a bit I end of doing it. Huh, maybe that story wasn't as interesting as I thought!
Well, our refrigerator is bare except for one tortilla, condiments, diet soda, and milk. I suppose it's time to make that list and refill the necessities. May the grocery store be simple and the children good!

Behind every successful man is an exhausted woman...

"When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, and the road you're traveling seems all uphill...." That's from a very insightful poem that I shall not continue to quote as what follows are a many stringing together of some ugly words. True, but ugly. Did you know that if you want to change your address from say the UPS store post boxes which you rent, the postal service will not do this? I have no idea how we are supposed to get mail from here once we move. We tried to change our address to our "land" address here locally, so that the husband could get his driver license delivered in the mail, but we can't. So now his "paper/stand in/hold this and pretend it's real" license expires on Friday (the day we will be out of town) which could put a serious cramp in our travels. How is he supposed to get the actual hard copy delivered if we cannot change the address?! Can't! Too bad! Best of luck buddy!
Cripes.
I believe my laundry will be done drying in nine minutes. Rather, I believe the time will have run out on the dryers I paid to dry my clothes. The actual drying of them during that time seems to be optional and up to the machine itself. I'm pretty sure there's a "no clothesline" rule here at the campground, which is unfortunate because any garment not dried by the machine gets brought inside the camper, hung up in various locations, and moisture is invited in.
We will be setting sail tomorrow evening for parts bound in warmth. We get two glorious kid-free days, free of the camper, and free of (most) responsibilities. I shall remove my brain from my head and leave it somewhere secured for safe keeping. Until then.....

Marriage is an adventure...as is going to war.....

Today is beautiful, crisp, and the day decided upon to move the RV to a new slab. Since we were receiving very little direct sunlight at the angle of our other slab, we moved to an opposite angle. At least, I think that's why we moved. One can never be sure. Moving requires unhooking things, securing things, closing slides, and other various items to be attended to. It also requires re-leveling the camper. For some reason, I am more attuned to the fact that we often start off uneven and it takes time for me to convince the husband that this is true. Like now for instance. I told him (prior to him returning to work) that the camper was now higher on the left side than the right and we are tilted to one side. His response? "No we aren't, I did a water test." A what? What water test? I'm looking right now at a glass of apple juice on the counter that is not level within its container; it's slanted heavily to the right. Looks like a backslash. Is it a misshapen glass? Doubtful. The refrigerator door closes itself now. The bathroom door does not (they're on opposite sides of the camper). But I suppose I could be wrong about the whole level thing. Lord knows I'm not level within myself all the time! Maybe it's spilling out into the real world now!
It also took several attempts to get the camper straight on the slab. We tore up the gravel road and grass behind the slab trying to do so. I'm sure our neighbors will be so happy. We also got mud on the entire slab, it's quite lovely. Will I be able to sweep that off? Guess I'm gonna give it a try!
I must say that I'm so grateful for Girl Scout Cookie season because it has been Thin Mints that has gotten me through these days. I am still bucking against my doctor's diagnosis that I'm allergic to chocolate. Hmph. We'll just see about that. (I don't think I've ever spelled out the word "hmph" before.)
We had storms again yesterday. Brief, but severe. The tornado sirens sounded yet again. Didn't "tornado warning" used to mean actual tornadoes were spotted? Nowadays the weather people say there is "rotation" somewhere, something, blah blah...I believe they are crying wolf anymore. My in-laws have fire engines (in their town, not personally) whose sirens sound exactly like tornado sirens in the south. I'm sure I sounded like such a hillbilly when I first heard those sirens in Jersey and said, "Those tornado sirens?" I'm pretty sure there's no tornadoes in Pittman. But I could be wrong.
Back to the camper. We started out in our first campsite at lot 12. Then we were recently at 22. Now we have moved up to 32. As the Jefferson's used to say, "Movin' on up!"
The weather (am I really still talking about the weather) cannot make up its mind. It's hot, it's cold, it's stormy, it's nice. It's too much! It's too hot for the A/C some days, but just opening the windows doesn't always cut it! How is it that I have broken a sweat inside my home just sitting doing nothing? It was freaking February for crying out loud! This is not Florida!!!
Okay, the clock on the stove is angrily blinking at me demanding to be set. I guess that is all for today. Though I'm sure in the next few hours there will be more to report! Adieu!