Tag Archives: motorhomes

Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award

sisterhood

Thank you to Lil Miss Poutine for nominating me for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award. Pop over and see her site of photography, food, cycling, movies, music, technology, TV, travel and  . . . . . bowling? A varied and fascinating blog!

To be eligible for the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award, you must please (sounds nicer):

(a) provide a link to and thank the blogger who nominated you for this award;

(b) answer ten questions;

(c) nominate 10-12 blogs that you find a joy to read;

(d) provide links to these nominated blogs and let the recipients know they have been nominated; and

(e) include the award logo within your blog post.

TEN QUESTIONS AND MY ANSWERS:

1. Favorite color?

Blue – especially aquamarine, ultramarine and space cadet. I don’t really like space cadet but I’ll bet you didn’t know it was a color!

2. Favorite animal?

Alligator. I feel a special bond with them after spending time in Florida.

3. Favorite non-alcoholic drink?

Oh come on. We all know I need to say wine. Champagne when available, but any color is acceptable.

4. Facebook or Twitter?

Neither really. Oh my.

5.  Favorite pattern?

Here’s an interesting one. The Golden Ratio Spiral as found throughout nature.

6. Do you prefer getting or giving presents?

I know what I’m meant to say, so I’m skipping this one.

7. Favorite number?

The year of my birth.

Oh, did you want to know that is?

8. Favorite day of the week?

It doesn’t matter. Every day is the weekend.

9. Favorite flower?

Daffodils – the precursors of spring! Not too many of them in the desert right now. Except at Safeway.

10. Favorite passion?

You don’t really think I’m going to put that out there do you?

Use the above questions OR list 10 interesting (printable!) facts about yourself.

Here are 10 blog sites I’d like to nominate. Sistas!

Multifarious Meanderings

Hilarious tales of a Brit living in France with her French husband, three children and a smelly dog – named Smelly Dog. I think a cat and a goldfish figure in there somewhere but I’m not sure the goldfish is still alive.

Travel Tales of Life

A Canadian with a zest for travel and photography. Many of Sue’s destinations are seen from the open air aspect of a bicycle. I invited myself along to their next cycling trip to Italy, opted out of pedalling and offered to meet them at a wine bar at the end of the day. They graciously accepted.

Pooky Poetry

Pooky is a recently (mere weeks ago) qualified PhD who apparently needs no sleep as she writes a poem (humorous and heart-wrenching – not poetry as you know it) a day, has two pre-schoolers, trained for and just ran the London Marathon and is writing a book with a deadline of September.

My Life Lived Full

Another Canadian, Joanne believes in living outside her comfort zone, including climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. Yes! You read that right! Her current A to Z writing challenge is an amazing example of the diversity of her life.

Paint Your Landscape

LuAnn and Terry have been full-time RVers for nearly three years now. Despite the challenges that being on the road throw at them LuAnn is always ready with a comment or some encouragement to others while they continue to “paint” their landscape with their narrative and lovely photographs.

Judy Lindo Photography

Judy is a wonderful photographer and is not averse to photo editing her photographs with fantastic results. She is a breast cancer campaigner. Read about it here: Boobie Pirates

Oh the Places They Go

Pam and John are “two retired educators touring the country in their motorhome.” I’d been following them for a while but really took to Pam when she stated “nobody in their right mind would be a fan of a Pittsburgh team.” It’s good to have opinions where sports is involved! They’ve been tootling around the southeast and posting photos and narratives since they saw Pittsburgh lose to the Orioles.

Lowes Travels

Mona Lisa and her husband Steve are travelling the States in their motorhome, Betsy, are having way too much fun and document it all with beautiful photographs. Though Mona Lisa is from the Philippines,  she seems to have a cousin in every U.S. state.

At Home On The Road

Another Canadian? Ruth and Mike sold up five years ago and bought a 5th wheel to begin a “carefree” lifestyle never having RVed before. They must be as mad as we are! Their long list of tags and great photographs indicate that they must have got the hang of it by now.

My Year Of Sweat

Nancy recently completed a year – 365 days – of exercising every day and documenting her journey. Through rain, snow and life’s commitments she met the challenge she set herself. I took up a small challenge with her recently and hurt my back. I can be a dummy sometimes, but she is an exercise warrior princess. From Canada.

If you are a no award blog or already have this award just think to yourself isn’t she sweet? Shame she can’t read. And let it go. I’m okay with that if you are.

Finish this joke:

A Filipina, two Brits, four Canadians and four Americans walked into a bar  . . . . . . . . .

 

House or Divorce?

We both need a good mental slap to make a decision as Option 1, Do Nothing on our New List of options for settling down seems to be our default setting.

We made a zig zag passage across the United States from Washington State to Florida and along the south and up the west of the country to Washington. We missed many states on our first launch into The United States so picked up the northern and eastern states and navigated around again to Washington. We saw a little or a lot of 47 states and drove a total of 20,000 miles on our helter skelter journey.

Our nearly complete journey depicted on our dirty trailer!
Our nearly complete journey depicted on our dirty trailer! Are you seeing double?

We’ve been cooped up in close quarters for close to 10 years now and have never once resorted to physical violence towards each other. That’s something of an accomplishment in itself but testing our relationship was not the purpose of our travels.

This whole shebang needs to move on to a Stage 2 – test the weather, the economy and the friendliness of the natives in one place! for a year – of the Grand Plan.

Stage 1 is so over for us. Stage 3 is to live in a house.

The fact remains – and it is a fact, himself will attest to that – if our trailer were a little bit bigger, our seating a little less like sitting on a plank, our bathroom a little less like a phone booth (albeit with a toilet instead of a puddle of piddle on the floor) he’d be happy to carry on traveling.

I’m wondering if he’ll ever settle. I’m wondering which brother will take me in if he doesn’t.

An old people’s magazine I read recently listed ways to stave off Alzheimer’s. “Listen to this. It says here that you can exercise your brain by shopping in a new market. When you shop in the same store all the time and know where everything is the brain doesn’t have to work. It’s too easy.”

I snorted with derision at the idea but figured my brain and body should be well set up for a good few years with all the rummaging around wrong aisles and extra miles walked in unfamiliar grocery stores.

It was a privilege to see so many natural wonders in this country. An added benefit was making my sluggish brain work finding our way from one to the next.

It was a worry that we’d run out of stimulating reading material without a library nearby. Being too cheap to buy paperbacks that we could read in two days and then have to throw out we discovered most campsites have book and magazine swaps so a constant flow of literature from F. Scott Fitzgerald and John Steinbeck to the trashy magazines that I would normally only read while standing at the supermarket checkout is weighing down the trailer.

When in a library I tease Jimmy with, “Did you notice they’ve got used paperbacks for sale at 50 cents?”

“I’m not going to look. We’ve got enough books. We haven’t got any place else to put them until we get rid of some.” Invariably he would exit the library with two paperbacks in his hand. “Look! A Harlan Coben and a Michael Connelly. I haven’t read these!”

I often get accused of not listening to him. He doesn’t even listen to himself any more.

So we have plenty to read.

I’ll miss traveling if we stop and settle. I will especially miss it if we sell the trailer and burn our traveling bridges.

We both experienced these conflicting feelings after a year-and-a-half of traveling in Europe. The caravan (quaint English word for trailer) was too small. Moved to Washington State where a two bedroomed apartment seemed huge. Got cabin fever and itchy feet. Missed the caravan and traveling. Bought a trailer.

Jimmy is depressed at the thought of being tied to just one place.

As I search for suitable affordable houses, he is googling big trucks and bigger RVs. . . . . . still!

Motorhome on BayLUG layout
Do you think he’d be satisfied with this one? (Photo credit: Bill Ward’s Brickpile)
Enhanced by Zemanta

Cheap Gas and the Dancing Car

Old Gas Pump

Old Car
Old Car (Photo credit: KB35)

Before we cast ourselves adrift again on our second homeless stint, we gassed up after waiting for 20 minutes at the cheapest gas station in town. We played dodgems on the forecourt with cars, trucks and motorhomes – other cheapskates – before ending up behind an old boy in a rusty heap. When it was finally his turn, he shot forward to the pump nearly crashing head-on with an interloper sneaking in from the opposite direction.

In this credit and debit card society, he tottered through a tangled maze of cars and gas pumps to pre-pay with cash in the shop for his fill up. Upon returning to the pump his gas tank swallowed $60 in short order so he limped back to the shop to part with more money. I’m guessing he paid another $20 but the pump shut off after $10.32. Bored and impatient we watched him closely.

He staggered to the back of his car (the temperature was in the 90’s, positively roasting for Pacific Northwesterners) and pushed up and down on the trunk. This caused his car to dance on its sloppy suspension like a “funny car” (those redneck motors that pump up their suspensions and rock side to side and forward and back for absolutely no reason at all) but he seemed to unblock an air lock because he was then able to pump another $2.55 before lurching back to the trunk to make his car dance again for another $1.97 of gas to go in the tank.

After another couple of slow mo moves by the old boy and the car’s lively quick step he gave up and put the nozzle back in the pump. But he didn’t get back in his car. Oh no, he tottered back to the shop for his refund.

“Do you know how much change he went back for?” Jimmy sputtered as we catapulted to the pump to claim the old boy’s empty space when he finally drove off. “Ten cents!!!”  All the other things Jimmy said while we were waiting for Slow Mo and his boogying car have to remain off the record.