A Good Old Bitch-Slappin'

What’s the difference between a Texas rainstorm and a hurricane? APPARENTLY NOT MUCH! As I write, a whopper is sitting above Community First, and the bracket attaching a new patio cover to my RV just ripped itself out of the wall nearest the door.

WAAAAAA!!!!! What would Rita say? What would the Captain say?

“It’s your own damned fault for not taking it down when the wind started picking up; so now pull up your big girl panties and deal with it!” 

Nobody’s gonna do it for me, I remind myself for the umpteenth time, throwing on an inappropriate hoodie to survey the damage. Yep, it pulled out completely; but after all, only one of the four screws was actually secured into anything resembling wood.  RVs are not known for solid construction, so I’m just lucky a huge piece of the flimsy outside wall didn’t rip away in the process, kudos to Winnebago.

I grabbed a piece of SILVER Duck Tape, climbed up the stepstool with a towel and quickly applied the tape over the holes to prevent additional water seeping in between the wall, DOOM FOR ANY RV.  I bungeed the now-flailing covers, looked around for loose shrapnel, and came back inside for more coffee.

I’d been wondering what to write about. As I methodically unplugged all major electronics and fought back the waa-waa tears, I imagined my friends in Puerto Rico: what they wouldn’t give to fix their problems with a piece of Duck Tape.

The community’s free-but-iffy WiFi hasn’t been working for almost a week, which is more than a bit frustrating since I finally broke down and subscribed to Amazon Prime the day before. I thought maybe it was my new red cover but even walking around my RV I couldn’t get Jack.

Waaaa!!!!! Gee,  I’ll just have to live like I did on the road, with a mobile hotspot and 3 hupple-te-pups (as Tino would say) of limited data. Still, it’s more than enough for emails, blogging and searching now and again; but I’m amazed how spoiled I’ve become after only four and a half months of unlimited Internet access.

¡Ay, Andrea!  I can hear them across the chasm of time and distance, chiding me en Espanñol for my insensitivity. Here BC and I sit, dry, comfortable, enjoying café (me) while listening to beautiful Sunday morning baroque. How quickly I’ve forgotten generating my own electricity and hauling water for twelve years on Ruff Life. God, I was buff!

"Yeah, but I’m old now, so who’s gonna help me fix that mess outside, Waaaaa!!!!!"

A friend, a neighbor, a stranger; that's what usually happens. They won’t even have to do more than stop to say Hello, since, “I can actually do it myself, thanks.”  Especially when I don't know what I'm doing, I add. To me that’s not stubbornness; that’s holding an Ace for when I really DO need some help. I just hope no one’s watching while Amy rants a bit.

Shaddup-awready!  At least I’ve made it to Social Security, which is more than I can say for, well, I won’t list them again.  Yes, I’ll count my blessings, all 62 of them!