Traveling across America without killing each other

Well, this turned out to be quite a sh*ty post in a hurry

Saturday 28th August 2021

Ever had that weird feeling when you wake up and think you’re in one place, but the surroundings look unfamiliar and you spend the next 30 minutes or so trying to brain, but your brain doesn’t want to brain, your brain wants to go back to sleep?
Yeah, that didn’t happen to us.
We woke up to the gentle sounds of other campers doing other camper things. Like taking down camp and hooking up to their trucks and leaving in the nosiest way possible. It’s kind of like when birds sit in the trees outside your window and serenade you with their sweet songs, only not.
Funnily enough, it wasn’t so much the campers making all that noise that woke us up, but the little white whistle (aka Patrick) who happened to look out the window at just the right time to see someone outside.
As you may or may not know, it is part of the 11 commandments… Thou shalt not walk past someone else’s camper, even if thou art on thou-est own campsite.
Patrick is a devout Christian and finds people breaking the 11 commandments insulting.

We were awake and feeling refreshed, our eyes still coated in bleary-eyed sleep, and staggered out to the living room/dining room/kitchen for some breakfast. This was the point where hubs said he had a full 3 hours sleep! Which is a bit of a record for him. Thank goodness he’s stressed out most of the time, thinking about internet, work, next campsites, or he might oversleep and sleep for a total of 7 hours! 
Coming from a person who suffered from insomnia for years on end until I moved to America nine years ago, (I think I’m still suffering from jet lag) sleep is a waste of time. There’s so much to do in all that time you are awake, like cry, pray for sleep, pace the room and swear at your partner for their ability to sleep soundly. 

The only way to cook breakfast when camping

After breakfast, we ventured outside and for the first time since beginning our trip, we weren’t faced with the surface temperature of the sun. There was a nice breeze rolling across the river, and we even sat in our camping chairs, outside, and watched the grass grow. It was, absolutely, the most, completely and utterly, boring-est thing we had done in a while. Especially for me who suffers from bouts of Tigger syndrome.
Hubs was quite content to sit and stare into the green oblivion, but after a bit of whining, he finally agreed to go for a walk with me and the boys. 

I had thought that maybe we were tired yesterday when we took a peek at the river, or maybe it was one to many Dr. Pepper zero’s that made the water look so… green. But as we strolled on this glorious day, carrying a bag full of dog poop bags, we could see just how magically toxic it was. It looked like someone had poured the innards of those glowsticks us youngsters would take to clubs and wave around while we bopped to Techno. We even looked out for a three-eyed fish to pop up out the water and wave to us, but none did. I guess they were still having breakfast or maybe lunch? 

Told you it was green

Jake decided now was a good time to yank hubs arm out of his socket because he wanted to sniff a certain blade of grass. Hubs sure was happy about that. Meanwhile, Patrick wanted to see how many poop piles he could leave in one trip. A poop pile here, walk on a bit and oh, another poop pile there… So much poop I actually ran out of bags! 
Thankfully, the RV host came rushing to our rescue. A 50+ year old man with one hand out in front, his cape flapping behind him, carrying a poop bag. Hooray for super poop bag man! 

Moving swiftly on before this becomes the sh*ttiest post I’ve ever written.
Hey! I just got my title. 

Then, it started to rain. Just a little pitter patter of raindrops that splattered in your eye when you’re stupid enough to look up and ask, “Is it raining?” to a full downpour. Our little walkies was over.
I don’t mind the rain. I kind of liked the sound of it hitting the camper roof like golf balls hitting a tin shed that rapidly turned into boulders hitting a tin shed, and you’re sitting there with this sort of panic on your face as you wait for the roof to cave in.
After it rained, everyone stepped out from their campers, looking around like we just survived the apocalypse. It felt like it, like we were standing in a sauna. Steam wafted up from everything, the remaining drops of rain sizzling on the heated gravel road.
We said, “Sod this,” and went back inside.
Okay, fine, I said sod this, hubs said something more Americanized, the kind of words that will raise the age rating of my blog. 

Now, I don’t know if you know this about me or not, but I’m actually a writer, a published author. You may or may not have seen my books hanging out on my blog. I had fully intended on working on my next masterpiece while traveling. So, I set up my little office in the dining area, opened up my laptop, cracked my knuckles aaaaaand… my damn laptop lost my book. I kid you not! Pages and pages, gone! 
Now I was the one using those words that are unfit for the general audience.
Eight months later, I’m kind of over it, even though the offending laptop is still sitting in the naughty corner. (Yes, I got a new laptop, but that happened much, much later…) As for the lost pages? Well, they’re still lost but that’s for another, completely unrelated to this, post. 

Okay, so me, feeling somewhat annoyed, sat with a face that says, speak to me at your own risk, when suddenly, I hear this little scratching sound. 
M’kay… RV’s aren’t supposed to make those funny little scratchy sounds when it’s static. And then comes Patrick, confirming my worst fears…
We have mice. 
The air turned blue from the choice words I decided to sing at that very moment. 

This is how Jake helped Patrick with the mice issue

Did we get rid of the mice? Was I able to stop swearing? 
Find out in my next post!
Much love,
Robyn.

4 thoughts on “Well, this turned out to be quite a sh*ty post in a hurry”

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