New Friends

When I moved to a new campground last August, I knew that I'd miss the friends I'd made, but thought that I might meet new ones in addition to keeping the old ones.  But I had no idea what abundance was about to rain down on me.

Kelly and Pat met us our first week in the park.  They immediately offered to take us out on the lake and show us the good places to go.  Kelly is the Welcome Wagon of the place, riding around on his golf cart all weekend with a jug full of sunflower seeds and beer to share.  Pat met him in college, and used to sneak into his dorm at night to see him.

Jack is 84 and lost his only daughter many years ago to an accident and his wife just a few years ago to a horrible disease.  He has a woodshop nearby, where he makes the most incredible bowls, vases, board games, and pens.  He rarely sells anything; just gives it away.  When he noticed my brother entertaining with a piece of plywood placed over the firepit, he decided to build a table.  It's not done yet, but from what I hear it's a thing of beauty.

Jack is also a gardener and maker of spirits.  He's shared homemade Grand Marnier and Lemoncello with us on more than one occasion.  The bags of rhubarb he gave me made several pints of rhubarb chutney, and the salmon he smoked himself makes my brother very happy.

Randy, Jack's best friend, is a Minnesota State Trooper, who can tell you to the day how many days there are until he retires.  He drove up outside my door one night and freaked out my friend Mary, who asked, "why is there a State Trooper outside"?  I looked, jumped up, and said, "oh, that's just Randy", and went outside to greet him.  Jack was in the front seat.  Turns out Jack was hungry so Randy picked him up and took him to get something to eat.  Once Mary got over her shock she came outside and met them both.

Mary and Larry came with us from the old park.  U.S. Veterans for many years, they live in Minnesota for 3 months, then go to Florida, where the warmth is better for Mary's Multiple Sclerosis.  Larry loves his cigars, Mary loves her birds and chipmunks, and they truly love each other.

Leroy and Fran also live in Texas in the winter, but like me, have roots in the area.  We trade food - I've given them muffins and rhubarb chutney, they've given me rhubarb pie and onions from their garden. 

Steve and Willy take care of the grounds and the maintenance.  I taught them both how to sign up for Facebook and post in the group that I set up.  They both love nature as much as I do, and when a neighbor found a snapping turtle nesting in her window box of herbs, I got them to gently relocate the turtle back to the wetlands.  Turns out they relocated about 20 'snappers' that week all trying to lay their eggs near humans. 

Gary is the General Manager, and a clown on the side.  He taught me to juggle, and while I did very well with the scarves, I bonked my head with the bowling pins and ended my juggling career. 

There is something about campground people that's universal.  You don't come to a campground to isolate yourself.  There's a spirit of community and joy of life that permeates the place.  Oh, of course there are the difficult people too.  The ones that complain when a camper moves in that doesn't look as good as theirs, or the ones that seem to make it their goal in life to cause trouble.  And I still look forward to Sunday afternoons when all the weekend people have left and I can run around the place picking raspberries.  But I can't imagine anywhere else I'd want to be during the summer.  I'm here to stay.

Little Mouse

Mouse was the runt of the litter.  She fit in the pocket of my pajamas when she was a kitten, and I named her Mouse because that's exactly what she looked like - a little gray mouse. 

Every one of my cats had a unique personality, and Mouse was no exception.  I wondered many times if cats can get schizophrenia like people do, since she seemed to fit the profile.  For most of her 13 years she lived under my bed.  When I could get close enough to touch her, she cringed as if my very touch caused her pain.   

It was as if she had a sign on her back that said "kick me".  Some of the other cats recognized her weakness and would lay in wait when she came out for food, pouncing on her and chasing her back under the bed.

In March I noticed that she was wheezing.  Her appetite still seemed good, but she was losing weight, and she wasn't a big cat to begin with.  And her behavior changed - she started hanging out with me, jumping up on the couch, laying next to me, and letting me stroke her back.  I put some blankets in an old laundry basket near my bed and Mouse took up residence there.  Her breathing got so bad that I actually dug a grave in my backyard in preparation.  But the vet gave her an antibiotic and an antihistamine, and she rallied just before I came to Minnesota for the summer. 

Sadly, she continued to lose weight, and when my pet sitter took her to the vet he told me that he thought she was in renal failure.  Through my tears I gave him the go-ahead to put her to sleep, knowing that it was the right thing to do for her.  She was 13.

So now my house has 2 cats - Grace (Mouse's Mom) and Sam (Mouse's brother).  I won't have 5 cats sleeping on or near me at night, greeting me at the door, and following me everywhere. 

I've always said that when my cats are gone, so am I.  Not in the literal sense - I just don't want to live in Texas anymore.  The state was good to me job-wise, but I long for the 4 seasons I can enjoy in Minnesota, along with the proximity to my family. 

I didn't know you well Little Mouse, but I'll miss you all the same.  And I know that Sam will miss grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and holding you hostage.