Tuesday, February 25
“Are you ready to greet the day, pumpkins?”
Bridget and Spike are awake at last. Spike has been experiencing deep sleep lately. I thought it was because the raw meat diet is more satisfying. Now I think the Cetyl-M is relieving him from the aches of arthritis. Whatever the case, Spike doesn’t whimper during the night or toss and turn the way he used to. As for Bridget she’s always been slow to wake up.
My coffee’s already perked and poured.
I lift Bridget down from the bed. Spike jumps down and performs his stretching exercises, a habit he’s had for as long as I’ve known him.
“Okay, let’s see what kind of day it is.”
The morning air is cooler than usual. The sky is heavily overcast. Hmm . . . This is a perfect day for finishing waxing. I won’t have to hitch up and move the BLT. The fiberglass will stay cool on a day like this.
I fix a cheese omelet for each of us.
After breakfast I set up the stepladder, water basin, and supplies and get to work. I take a few breaks to check this blog or to sit with a drink listening to the birdsong emanating from the ironwood tree and desert brush.
Bill and Ann drive up in their pickup.
I’m up on the stepladder. Ann jumps out with a hello and places a plastic bag full of paperbacks on the ground.
The crew and I visited Bill and Ann’s campsite yesterday.
Our canine crews are good pals.
“We’re on our way to town,” Ann explains as she climbs back into their truck. Away they go . . .
“Well, guys. I think this is enough waxing for today.”
The sky is still overcast and the air is cool. Gee, it’d be nice to read my book and munch on popcorn. I’m inside at the laptop as the popcorn begins to pop. I hear a voice out the open door.
I go to the door. A lady is standing on the outdoor mat with a friendly smile.
“I thought I’d come by and meet my neighbor,” she explains as I step outside. We exchange names. Anne tells me she reads my blog and recognized the PTV and BLT when she set up camp.
“Oh, you’re parked over there,” I remark. “Is that a Scamp?”
“No, it’s an Escape.”
“Oh my gosh, the popcorn!”
I run inside and turn off the stove.
Anne lives in Portland, Oregon. Her blog is “Right Brain; Right Lane.” We have a lot to talk about, given we both travel with pets (Anne has a cat and previously traveled with two greyhounds), we both have 17-foot travel trailers, and we both have solar power. Anne tells me this is her first winter boondocking.
“It’s great, isn’t it!” I respond, looking at the expanse around us.
After Anne leaves to return to her campsite, I put popcorn in a bowl and settle in for a good read.
Later my ambition returns.
I’m going to finish this dang waxing today! Removing the oxidation is not as bad as I had anticipated. There isn’t much and it’s only in an area about the size of a laptop.
The sun sinks low, urging me on. Bridget and Spike are curled up in their doggie beds at the foot of the ladder. Bridget gnaws on the remnants of her bone from yesterday. Spike snoozes.
I’m losing light fast.
I buff off the last of the powdery wax residue and climb down the ladder . . .
“DONE! Will ya’ look at that shine!” I exclaim with delight.
Whew! Time to watch another Arizona light show . . . .
I move my camp chair next to Spike lying in his bed on the ground.
“Come here, Bridge. You want to sit in my lap and watch the show?”
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