Merlin ‘n Me in an RV

Tuesday for Dad is Lunch With The Cabal Day. It started as a group of Dad and friends too long ago to remember. The numbers have dwindled but the day remains firm. Since the beginning of this gathering, Niece Nat, my brother and I have all been honored to be in their number from time to time as I did on this day. But I get ahead of myself. I love how Merlin adores Dad. And Dad’s treat pocket, which he watches assiduously. In one gulp, Fiona could have a week’s worth of treats. From afar, Merlin has a wider range of vision and his eyes never leave Dad. That hand could go into the treat pocket at any time, you know. Back in the RV on Tuesday morning, Merlin and I began our day early as is our custom. With his post-breakfast nap and my coffee. One could, I suppose, begin with tidying up our quarters but that would take far too much effort. Especially with my moose occupying much of the precious square footage. Him getting a drink of water brings any of my plan

Unlike at home where Merlin wakes me up at 4 a.m. for his breakfast, I awoke before he did on Day 2 in El Cajon. I uncurled myself, remembered where I put his food since I’ve been moving everything from place to place it seems. He ate and I again pondered how to get my travel coffee maker elevated enough to reach the ceiling outlet without repeating yesterday’s discovery. I’d used the Ryobi charger to give the coffee maker a lift yesterday but saw quickly enough that the latter, in the course of doing what it is so highly prized for doing – making coffee – was dripping liquids into the charger element. “That can’t be good,” I sagely surmised. I was still pondering the power hook-up problem when I heard the customary clang of his bowl being kicked over to signal the time had come for some palate-cleansing Charlee Bears. His bowl, of course! Inverted, it was the perfect boost to my minor logistical problem and thus I began my day properly.  Also, I was both relieved and shocked

Two accomplishments for this second day of travel. 1)     I disconnected all of the hookups before pulling away from the campsite. 2)     I made it to El Cajon and backed up into Pat’s RV parking spot. On that second achievement, let’s say it was a partial. Dad helped me back in so I could connect to the house power and, if necessary, get more fresh water or go on “city water” as the hookup is so handily labeled. He also watched to make sure I didn’t hit the gas meter while I watched the other side to be sure there’d be enough room to open the RV door. What neither of us had our eyes on, however, was Pat’s roof. “Bang!” I heard. I got out and discussed the setback with Dad. We concluded that I’d bumped into the curb beside the garage. All I needed to do was adjust for that. I pull up a bit, re-angle the RV and back up. “Bang!” Still in the driver’s seat, I heard Pat say, “Edgar!” and saw her point up. I have, of course, offered to pay to repair to the corner

Or so sayeth The Ancient One (my dad) when I texted he, Pat and Niece Nat a photo of the RV safely ensconced in its parking space at the Sierra Trails RV Park outside of Mojave.  We made it on our first leg to this wonderful little oasis. Fortunately, the notorious Central Valley winds were nil and the fabled high desert heat not evident.  I'd planned to get out of the house at 8 but missed it by 15 minutes. Then another 15 filling the other half of the apparently very large gas tank. What the hell, the trip is on. Af ter yesterday's drive from the rental place and my ring finger bruised from gripping the steering wheel. Not made any better, either, by the innumerable trips up and down the RV steps using my hands and arms as much as my legs. But by the time I had gone through the usual (even counter-commute) bottlenecks from I-580 onto I-205 connecting to I-5, I'd become comfortable enough to hold the wheel with one hand while the other reached for smokes or water (te

Today was pick up the RV day from Cruise America day. I got all of my final packing and hauling stuff down the stairs done earlier than my friend Kay was scheduled to pick me up. So I checked and rechecked my checklists. A few times. I wandered around the house and deck aimlessly but with determination. I worked myself into a nervous tizzy.  I am so grateful to have Kay take me down there. She's an experienced RVer, accustomed as she was to traveling endlessly to conformation shows to put who-knows-how-many championships on her German Shepherd Dogs. As she talked about how much she liked her Class B (whatever that is), I found encouragement but little relief from my increasing anxiety. I grilled her about how, exactly, the toilet worked - why that became an obsession escapes me. I mean, really. I packed enough Immodium for a family of four (where did I put that again?).  Kay, champion that she is in her own right, said she'd follow me home. The RV controls were all fairly f

Long gone are the days when I'd pack up the morning of a trip. For this, my long-desired and first RV trip, planning commenced weeks ago. I printed out checklists I found online in the course of trying to figure out what could go wrong and how to make it go right. I made shopping lists: for the RV itself, leaning on sage advice from friends in-the-know; essentials to take with us like water; for lunch and dinner the one day we'd actually camp out on the road. I made packing lists for me, for Merlin, for the RV. I got AAA maps and printed out a TripTik. And, of course, I put it all in a binder. Which I may forget to take. As the day of launch became imminent, I decided that Merlin needed a travel crate that is lighter than the van-wide wire crate he travels in. I popped into the Village* Pet Food Express. Not seeing collapsible crates and the manager asking if I needed help, I for once said yes. She showed me what they had, I settled on one and asked if she'd give me a 50%