PLEH Day!

Today we left Aztec and headed towards OKC.  And it seemed like nothing went right.

We got a later start than usual.  Normally we hit the road around 9 am.  Today it was well after 11 by the time we pulled out.  Why?  I have no idea.  It just did.

Luckily, it was a lovely, sunny day.  And we had a nice lunch at a little Indian Casino on our way south towards Albuquerque.  But things turned sour shortly thereafter.

When we got to Albuquerque we needed to gas up.  I had looked at Google maps yesterday and found the TA truck stop there.  But Tom-Tom, our GPS didn’t know where it was, and I got us semi-lost trying to find it.  After a liesurely drive through a residential area, we got back on the Interstate and Richard spotted a gas station at an exit.  But we had to circle the motorhome through a strip mall parking lot and out the back side of it to manage to get into the service station.  Our 60 gallon tank took 51 gallons!  Then to get out of the service station and back on the highway, we had to make a right turn away from the interstate and loop through a grocery store parking lot before getting headed the right way!!  Oy, vey!!!!

By then it was well after 4 and we were both ready to call it a day.  According to our campground directory, there was a campground at Moriarty, about 30 miles east of Albuquerque.  But when we got there, the campground was defunct.  I don’t know if you have ever driven through New Mexico, but it has a LOT of empty space!!  The next town east from Moriarty is Santa Rosa, a mere 90 more miles.   So we drove on in the gathering dusk.  And in the dark.  We had never driven the motorhome in the dark before.  We found out that the headlights don’t cast much light. We were in a steady stream of traffic, mostly semis.  Richard said he doesn’t want to do that again.

We got here around 6pm.  We needed propane, because the cold snap last week just about used up all our propane.  And the campground we were at in Aztec didn’t sell propane. And this campground has propane, but they don’t sell it after 5pm.  So we got checked in, and were assigned site #50.  When we pulled up to it in the dark, there was a big 5th wheel sitting in it.

So I walked back up to the office and told the manager that there was a big-assed 5th wheel in our site.  He said his wife had told him the 5th wheel had been removed.  But obviously it hadn’t, so he gave us site# 48.    We got set up and walked up to the restaurant for dinner.  It was ok, but Richard said his BBQ was more like roasted meat with Kraft BBQ sauce on it.

Oh, well.  Tomorrow is another day.

Lizard Babies

Here’s a joke from Jeanne. 

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet  syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!

Overview: I had to take my son’s lizard to the vet.

Here’s what happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was  ’something wrong’ with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his  room.

‘He’s just lying there looking sick,’ he told me. ‘I’m serious, Dad.  Can you help?’

I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him  into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his  back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.  ‘Honey,’ I called, ‘come look at the lizard!’

‘Oh, my gosh!’ my wife exclaimed. ‘She’s having babies.’

‘What?’ my son demanded. ‘But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!’

I was equally outraged.

‘Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn’t want them to  reproduce,’ I said accusingly to my wife.

‘Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?’ she  inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically!)

‘No, but you were supposed to get two boys!’ I reminded her, (in my  most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth).

‘Yeah, Bert and Ernie!’ my son agreed.

‘Well, it’s just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,’ she  informed me (Again with the sarcasm!).

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I  shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

‘Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,’ I announced. ‘We’re  about to witness the miracle of birth..’

‘Oh, gross!’ they shrieked

‘Well, isn’t THAT just great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?’ my wife wanted to know.

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a  tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

‘We don’t appear to be making much progress,’ I noted.

‘It’s breech,’ my wife whispered, horrified.

‘Do something, Dad !’ my son urged.

‘Okay, okay.’ Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it  next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several  more times with the same results.

‘Should I call the z00?’ my eldest daughter wanted to know.

‘Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.’ (You see a pattern here  with the females in my house?)

‘Let’s get Ernie to the vet,’ I said grimly.  We drove to the vet with  my son holding the cage in his lap.

‘Breathe, Ernie, breathe,’ he urged.

‘I don’t think lizards do Lamaze,’ his mother noted to him. (Women can  be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for crying out loud.).

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little  animal through a magnifying glass.

‘What do you think, Doc, a C-section?’ I suggested scientifically.

‘Oh, very interesting,’ he murmured. ‘Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?’

I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

‘Is Ernie going to be okay?’ my wife asked.

‘Oh, perfectly,’ the vet assured us. ‘This lizard is not in labour.  In fact, that isn’t EVER going to happen. . . Ernie is a boy. You see,  Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity,  like most male species, they um . . um . . . masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.’  He blushed, glancing at my wife.

We were silent, absorbing this.

‘So, Ernie’s just … just . . . excited,’ my wife offered.

‘Exactly,’ the vet replied , relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And  giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

‘What’s so funny?’ I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the  woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

Tears were now running down her face. ‘It’s just .that . .I’m picturing you pulling on its . . .. its. . . teeny little . . ‘ She  gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

‘That’s enough,’ I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled  the lizard and our son back into the car.  He was glad everything was going to be okay.

‘I know Ernie’s really thankful for what you did, Dad ,’ he told me.

‘Oh, you have NO idea,’ my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

Two lizards: $140.

One cage: $50.

Trip to the vet: $30.

Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard’s winkie: Priceless!

Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.  Lizards lay eggs!

Richard’s New Toy

Richard got his first social security check this month and decided to get a new computer with it.  He was really intrigued with the flight simulators when we visited the airplane museum in Utah.  So now he has a shiny new computer with a flight simulator game on it.  A golf game mysteriously appeared on it, too. 

He has been learning all about flying — after all, it is just like flying real airplanes! Real pilots use this to practice with.  It has lots of different planes and helicopters, even a glider. Everything from Cesnas and ultra lights to jumbo jets!!  The screen shows all the aircraft instruments and the real scenery that you are flying over. And there is Air Traffic Control to talk to you, too.  He  is taking the flying lessons built into the program and doing fairly well.  And he has also had some spectacular crashes!!  Thank goodness it’s not real!

Of course, if something moves into the motorhome, something has to move out.  So we took the dinet table out and put it on the lawn with a sign that read Free to Good Home.  It was gone within an hour.  Now we have a computer desk in the table’s place.

Snow

Ruins Road RV Park, Aztec, New Mexico, Oct 28, 2009

 

This is the snow-laden crabapple tree next to our motorhome.

Yes!! Snow!!  Time to head south!!

Talking Dog

Margaret sent me this.  Thanks, dear.

A guy is driving around the back woods of Montana and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: ‘Talking Dog For Sale ‘ He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.

The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.

‘You talk?’ he asks.

‘Yep,’ the Lab replies.

After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says ‘So, what’s your story?’

The Lab looks up and says, ‘Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA. In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping.’

‘I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running. But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn’t getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals.’

‘I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I’m just retired.’

The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.

‘Ten dollars,’ the guy says.

‘Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?’

‘Because he’s a liar. He never did any of that.