Rules of Travel

Under the things NOT to do the night before you drive from Minnesota to Texas:

1) Go to "The Palm Tree People's" camper. Almost everyone in the campground has a nickname, some already given, and some from necessity. The Palm Tree People are so named because they used to have one of those electric palm trees that we could see from my brother's camper. We know their names now (Dave and Doreen), but that's too hard to remember. Other good nicknames (that I can mention in public) are "Norm", which is the owner of the campground after the famous Cheers character, "The Sloppy Stucco Guy", who I named myself because of his job and his penchant for leaving all sorts of paraphenalia outside his camper, and "Fred and Ethel", because his name is Fred and he's the right age, and we can't ever remember his wife's name.

2) Participate in drinking games. One was when Fred came down with a big brown bag full of those little bottles of booze, and you had to drink whatever you pulled out of it. Another was when the caps from the Kahlua and the Mudslide bottles were thrown into the fire and the bottle was passed around until they were gone. Ugh. My sister-in-law was putting the bottles in her pocket and not swigging from the bottles. Wish she would have told me those tricks.

3) Stay out until 2 am.

4) Drop your Blackberry at the campfire and have someone step on it. It was found in pieces the next morning. Shane, the guy who found it put it together as best as he could and put it by the heater to dry out. Thank goodness it worked or I would have had to drive two days without a phone.

When I woke up the next morning at 8, I thought about just sleeping in and leaving Sunday instead. But I pushed my butt out of bed and started cleaning and loading up the car. I told everyone the night before that my plans were to leave between 10 and noon, and I left at 11.

Until I hit Iowa I thought about pulling over several times, my stomach heaving and my head about to burst. But I made it to Council Bluffs, and that's where number 5 rule comes into play.

5) Book your hotel reservation before you leave. Both hotels I had in mind were sold out! Luckily, a kind front desk person called another hotel for me and I was able to get a room. It was a little run down, with peeling wallpaper and a funny disinfectant smell, but I didn't care much.

Today I drove the final 10 hours to Texas, and I still have the strength to post. Go me!

Goodbye Summer Palace

Today is my last day in Minnesota - the campground closes for the season Sunday, and I have a two-day drive ahead of me. It doesn't seem fair that I have to leave now with the leaves still turning and a high of 80 degrees today. But the geese are flying south, and I must follow them.

Back to the city life, where temperatures are still hovering in the 90's. Back to going into an office most days, fighting for parking and for a desk (I don't have an assigned cube).

No more weekend campfires, no more lazy days on the sandbar. No more Zorbaz pizza, no more walks in the woods.

Sigh.

Okay, I'm done with the depression. I can look forward to seeing my friends in Texas for the next seven months. And I won't have to drive 4 hours to get to the airport in order to get a cheap fare. And there are birds in Texas too, and lots of squirrels. And possums, raccoons, and lizards to watch.

And no propane tanks to fill. No more scary days and nights when the wind threatens to blow my house down.

Is it May yet?

The Pelican Witch Project

Tonight, five of us were sitting around a campfire when we heard coyotes howling. That's a creepy sound itself, and not often heard around here. Or maybe we hear it and mistake it for distant parties. We are on the edge of a swamp, with woods behind it, and rolling hills behind the swamp.

In the middle of a conversation, we heard a bone-chilling sound coming from across the swamp, and we all stopped to listen. I have to say it was the freakiest sound I've ever heard, and lasted for about a minute to a minute and a half. Tiffany got up on the picnic table to listen closer, and we all stood up to see if we could see what was making the noise. It was a horrible noise, obviously made by an animal of some kind - in distress. Then we heard a splash, and the horrible sound stopped. Bryce, Tiffany's husband, was out of his chair and halfway up the road thinking that whatever we heard was coming for us.

A neighbor came by a few minutes later, wanting to know if we had heard the same thing. Several of the witnesses were seasoned deer hunters, and figure that we heard a deer being attacked by coyote, and finally falling in the water. No matter what the explanation, it was a freak-out moment for all of us. Little dogs are being locked inside campers tonight, and we're all on edge. Not a sound we'll ever forget.

A Blessed Life

Sometimes it's the unexpected phone call that makes me count my blessings.

I've had a chronic toothache for several months, but it has gotten really bad in the last week or so. My doctor in Texas has seen me twice for it, taken the X-rays, done the due diligence, and still found nothing wrong. This last week the pain got so bad I went to see a dentist in Moorhead (about an hour from here). He did the same things, told me to get an over-the-counter mouthguard and call him if the pain got to be unbearable. So frustrating!

I posted on Facebook that I was miserable with a toothache, and was surprised at how many people commented on my status. I guess pain is a common bond. One of the people that commented was my friend who is married to a dentist. I've met her husband a couple of times over drinks and dinner, and had a great time talking about travel, politics, and life.

Tonight, my cell phone rang, and it was my friend and her husband - they were worried about me and wanted to see if there was anything they could do. He even cleared his calendar for me so I can see him as soon as I get back to Texas, and promised to get to the root of my pain, and fix it. He's not my regular dentist, but he just might be from now on.

So I'm a little overwhelmed with gratitude right now. People who aren't family and who aren't even that close to me cared enough to share their gift wtih me. Out of the ordinary people, and out of the ordinary kindness.

Thank you Suke and Purvi - from the bottom of my heart. And tooth.

A Walk In The Woods

I took a walk in the woods this afternoon. How peaceful it was back there!

I ran into this little guy fussing at me for disturbing the peace.

View From A Hill

Late Summer Walk

I took a break this afternoon and took a walk around the campground. So few people are here now, it's peaceful, and it finally stopped raining. I stopped here and there to pick wildflowers and take pictures. As I was returning, I ran into Dave, the campground owner.

"Picking weeds, eh?"

So much for my lovely image of myself walking through a field of wildflowers and seeing the man of my dreams in the distance running towards me.

I told Dave about Hurricane Ike making a beeline for my Winter Palace this weekend.

"Uff Da", he said.

I guess that says it all.

Church Key Whore

My family knows that I have a habit of going home with things that don't belong to me such as can koozies and silverware. I don't mean to - I just forget to bring my own. It most often happens when we take the boat out - there is a whole compartment packed with koozies, and if I'm not finished with my beverage when we get home I take the koozie with me.

Two weekends ago I ended up with 4 koozies and one church key. If the term church key isn't familiar to you, it's simply a bottle opener with one sharp end and one square end, so you could open a can of evaporated milk for instance, or a beer. I use the beer end quite frequently.

So last weekend I put the koozies and the church key in a bag and delivered it to my family. My sister-in-law was beside herself, having already blamed my brother for the mysterious disappearance of the church key. I went right out and bought two of my own so it wouldn't happen again.

That night at the campfire, I put my cooler next to me with one of my new church keys on top. One of the toddlers visiting walked away with it unbeknownst to me.

My sister-in-law blurted out "you're a church key whore!" We giggled for awhile, then went back to the stillness of a campfire on a cold night.

Risky or Risque?

WASHINGTON (AP) - People calling a federal phone number seeking information on how to order Duck Stamps are instead greeted by a phone-sex line, due to a printing error that the government says would be too expensive to correct.

The carrier card for the Duck Stamp transposes two numbers, so instead of listing 1-800-782-6724, it lists 1-800-872-6724. The first number spells out 1-800-STAMP24, while the second number spells out 1-800-TRAMP24.

People calling that second number are welcomed by ``Intimate Connections,' and enticed to ``Talk only to the girls that turn you on.' The cost is $1.99 a minute.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, which runs the Duck Stamp program, says it would cost around $300,000 to reprint the cards. The agency says it won't do that because such a move would take away needed funds for wildlife conservation.

Wussies, Wimps, and Wienies

Campers are pulling out of the campground today in droves. Just because it's the day after Labor Day doesn't mean that it's the end of summer, right?

Who cares that the high temperature today is 61 and it's not going to get much warmer than that all week? That's what a good campfire is for. And layering. And sweatshirts. And double layers of socks.

Who cares that all the kids are back in school? They get a better education watching their silly parents try to ride a wakeboard.

Me? I have tomatoes to pick. And I enjoy having the windows open all day without turning the air conditioning on. I might just go for a long walk now that I won't be all sweaty by the time I hit the end of the deck.