El Cajon Day 1

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 of the gutter and Pat, of course, graciously declined saying something about other work on the house needing to be done as she went back inside the house. I will follow-up in a side conversation with my father about that.

Their poodle mix, Fiona, was actually happy to see me for what I think is the first time. She was not quite as enthused when, later, the doorway darkened and her wolf-like, bear-sized nephew appeared. Merlin loves Dad. He goes all wiggly with his hears back, poises to leap then does a fly-by, merely grazing Dad as I struggle to keep him from flattening The Ancient One. You can see the lightbulb of memory come as he then dives, nose first, for what he knows to be Dad’s treat pocket. Inside the beautifully appointed living room and leashed, his tail threatens every object two to three feet from the floor. He looks toward the back of the house seeming to remember the soft pillow he stole from Pat’s bedroom during his first visit as a puppy. Fiona lays on the carpet by Pat sitting in her chair, back disdainfully turned toward The Essence of Chaos. Merlin gets put in his crate.

We spent some time catching up until around 4 when I felt the urge to nap. Back into the RV, I couldn’t get passed being still wound up from the drive to go to sleep. I reflected on telling Dad and Pat that I’d committed myself to sleeping the night away in the cab-over bed so I got up to try to make it up. I climbed on to the lower seat/bed, stepped up to the back of the seat, then turned myself into something of a pretzel to sit on the raised shelf. 

I got one sheet corner on as I debated with myself about how to reach the far corner. Legs dangling off the edge, I looked down. It was not at all difficult to imagine the scenario. If I was able to slip the last section over the gap above the cab, finish making the bed, and if I actually succeeded in getting myself in a prone position beneath the foot-high ceiling, and if I slept up there …. I would wake up in the middle of the night as I do and unceremoniously drop five feet to the floor. 

I slept soundly and comfortably on the converted table bed with Merlin curled up in one corner.