Friday, February 12
Temperatures are rising!
While a large part of the country is in a deep freeze, the temperatures at our Midland LTVA camp in southeastern California are in the mid to high 80s (F). And that means when you stand on the sunny side of the Best Little Trailer in full sun the air feels like it’s in the 90s.
The desert can be an unforgiving place, no doubt about that.
However, unlike the steamy, hot and humid places on this planet, the desert is merciful once the sun goes down, merciful for RVers such as me and the crew. I continue to be surprised that in the middle of the night I’m putting on sweatpants and my hand-knitted socks to ward off the chill. About eight hours later I’m in tank top and shorts seeking shade!
While the air is cool and fresh in the morning, Reggie and I walk toward the mountains.
Bridget wants to stay in bed. Reggie loves walks!
I set up the crew’s play area on the blue mat — quilt pallet, toys, water dish, chew bones, and doggie bed.
It won’t be long and this area will become very hot if I don’t do something.
I bring out the awning. The bright sunshine still comes in under the awning.
Hmm . . . I need to create more shade. What do I have? Aha! The old, tan quilt will work!
Then I move the table so the quilt drapes over it, tent fashion.
Oh, this is nice! It blocks the sun very well. I like it!
I dash inside to get my camera. Efforts to include Bridget and Reggie in the photos fail. Reggie keeps walking behind me and Bridget darts under the BLT (See photo above — She’s behind the step.).
“Gollee, guys. I could use a little cooperation here!”
Anyway . . . . It’s surprising how cool this little sitting room/doggie playroom is!
After relaxing with a drink and my Paperwhite, I set up a wash station. First I wash me, then I wash the dishes (no, not the same water!). Bridget and Reggie lie at my feet, playing and snoozing on the quilt.
I have all the windows of the BLT open, of course, as well as the ceiling vent. When we go inside, I turn on the Fantastic Fan in the ceiling which has a setting for blowing the air in and a setting for blowing the air out.
We’re comfortable with this set up.
During the hottest part of the afternoon, I sit outside reading and the crew relaxes nearby. Then I get an idea.
Gee, this would be a good time to let Reggie off his tether. He’s not going to wander in this heat and no one is close by to distract him.
“Come here, Reg. Let me take that suit off you.”
I keep an eye on him as he explores the campsite.
As expected he soon returns to the shade. He does this a few times and then settles down to snooze on the quilt.
Yesterday, while the sun is low in the sky, Bridget, Reggie, and I walk the lane. We stop occasionally to give the Bridge a rest. I praise her often for walking with us.
We pass the Class A where a man camps with his dog, a chihuahua. He hasn’t had the dog long, according to the camp host. The man found the dog and took her in, figuring he’d soon turn her over to a rescue group.
Well, as often happens with a stray dog . . . .
The man becomes attached to the chihuahua and decides to keep her. She’s a pretty thing, mostly white with ears that stick up like Bridget’s. Sadly she’s very skittish, fearful both of people and dogs.
For that reason the crew and I don’t approach her as we pass her campsite. We pause so that everyone can look each other over.
Although the chihuahua is curious, she keeps her distance.
You can guess what happens. I look up from my Paperwhite. No Reggie.
“Reggie!” I exclaim, leaping out of my lounger. Bridget wakes up and follows me out to the lane. At that moment I hear the man’s voice. I never hear the man’s voice. His camp is far from ours.
“Uh-oh. Reggie went over to visit that chihuahua!”
I take off running.
Soon I see the man at his campsite and Reggie is trotting all around like he owns the man’s Class A.
The man shouts, “Go home!”
I continue running toward the scene. Reggie sees me and sprints toward me, all excited and proud of himself.
I call out to the man.
“I am so sorry! I apologize!”
He responds, “I don’t mind him coming over here to play but he’s peeing all over my stuff!”
“Oh, noooo! Reggie!”
It’s hot, I’m panting, and I’m about to melt right into the desert sand with embarrassment. I apologize again and turn toward our camp. Reggie races ahead of me.
That little devil.
Finally the heat slows him down, he comes to his senses, and, with tongue hanging, he trots over to me. His attitude is “Wow! Did you see what I did? That was FUN!”
I pick him up and carry him home.
So much for being aware how your actions affect others . . . . Sheesh, how embarrassing. That poor guy. We’re all conserving water. It’s not like he can hose off his stuff . . .
“That was NOT cool, Reggie.”
I put him inside the BLT. He slurps up some water and jumps into bed.
Is that a self-satisfied grin? What a rascal!
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