Well That Was Nerve Wracking

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 familiar in operation and location but one of the mirrors didn't adjust up or down from the driver's seat and I realized I didn't have a clue how to interpret the image in a convex mirror. I couldn't get the van started. Pulse rate goes up a bit more. I turned the key harder and it cranked into a throaty idle. Death grip on the steering wheel, I maneuvered out of the parking lot then on to a freeway I avoid under the best of conditions in the sportiest of vehicles. 

 And yet, I persevered. Trusty Kay always in what I came to think of as my real mirrors. She texted later that I drove like a pro but the fact is my grip on the steering wheel didn't relax at all until I was on a more familiar freeway and much closer to the house. 

 Merlin helped me put a garage full of stuff in various drawers and cabinets but was not too enthused about the slippery floors particularly since there's no flat place to park at my house. In other words, he couldn't wait to get out. 

 We become the Oakland Expeditionary Force tomorrow. 




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