The campground atmosphere changes a lot on Saturdays.
This morning, as I walk the crew, two tiny toddlers still in their multi-colored jammies push their plastic toys-on-wheels down the gravel lane past us, their little legs pumping for all they’re worth, father in pursuit. The ski-doos and whoop-de-doos drone out on the reservoir. Trucks with boat trailers come and go constantly. I haven’t seen our camp host all day.
Another exciting day at the campground!
Today’s highlight was Spike getting his head stuck in the kibble bag and running, yes running, inside the BLT, bouncing off the walls, including the mirror on the bathroom door, until he saw daylight again and burst through the screen door.
After that episode, the three of us fell into a somnolent state. Balmy weather has that effect on us. I’m wearing out my anti-gravity lounge chair by lounging, defying gravity, and soaking up gentle breezes that brush my face with the paws of kittens. Bridget and Spike sit in a stupor in their pen looking a lot like lawn ornaments.
The prospect of driving to Oregon has me in a dream state.
I’m anxious to get moving again. However, I’m going to break my pattern of roadtrip-by-whimsy and buckle down to formulate a plan, based on the suggestions of readers, study of my atlases, and online research. September in Oregon should be lovely! And to gaze out at the Pacific! Wouldn’t that be grand!
And what a way to wrap up a summer, huh?
Note: I finally typed up my out-of-pocket expenditures for the month of July. If interested, you can find the list at the bottom of the entries “A Glimpse at Yellowstone” (7/25) and “A River Float Trip!” (8/3). Someday I’ll put together some financial pages you can find easily from a drop-down menu in the header.
Canine Corner: “Some Things Are Better Forgotten” by Spike
Of course, rvsue has to blab about my humiliation with the kibble bag. I bet she’ll never let it rest. She even tried to take a photo! What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I have an opposable thumb. I’d like to see her get chips from a bag with paws. Now wouldn’t that be a funny sight!
I gotta’ hand it to the Bridge. She hasn’t said a word about it. She knows I’d get mad. She’s smart to keep her jabbery jaws jammed down tight. I have to admit it. The gal’s got class. Know what I mean?