This morning, I dreamed about eating peanut butter and strawberry jam on French country bread toast. I will have it tomorrow morning with a bottle of Prosecco: what better way to bring in the New Year? Oh, bacon. Maybe I'll have that, too. Um, bacon. I just took it out of the freezer.
When I got up, I flushed the black tank, did laundry, ironed, made appointments for the dogs to get groomed, made an eye exam appointment for me, picked out new frames online, registered with Suburban Propane so I can get a fill-up when I need one, found a masseuse, and I road my bike to Publix to get a few groceries. By doing all of my chores today, I can enjoy my dream meal as a complete indulgence. I may even watch a movie midday!
It was much warmer today but still considerably less humid. The wind shifted from the north at 18+ mph back to the south at 10-15mph. The ride home from Publix was a downwind sail. At four-thirty I walked down to Sherri’s site and asked her if she wanted to walk the park with me and the dogs. She did. People stopped us to talk to her and to talk to me about the dogs. People who have had Westies always tell me their dogs’ ages at and causes of death. And, they always get another Westie – like I did.
Sherri is going to the New Year's Eve party tonight at eight or eight-thirty. It's a BYOB affair that her friend (whose age I nailed) organized. I can't imagine, but if I went, I'd either have something to write about or I’d need therapy. Sherri said that I should do one of the poolside line-dancing affairs, but I said that I'd be uncomfortable as a “single” because I don't want to appear “available.” What if someone's husband asked me to dance? Ugh, I don't need that. I'm quite happy on my own, eating the food I've cooked, drinking box wine, and watching whichever "Lord of the Rings" trilogy episode is airing, in spite of the fact that Golum creeps me out.
Speaking of creeps, as I returned from Publix I followed creepy-dick-neighbor-guy in his car back into the park. If I had cranked it out I could have kept up with him assuming he didn't violate the 10mph speed limit, but he's a dick so he sped. When Sherri and I were walking the park we encountered dickhead and his wife leaving in their car. She smiled and he waved. I glared. He leaves his trash on my site every morning. I took his water jug to recycling when he left it beside his trash the other day. I hope he pulls out tomorrow. If I notice, I'll go outside and clap.
The visiting children and their parents have been leaving the park since yesterday. I have gotten a kick out of the 14-year-olds driving around the park in the grandparents' golf carts. I will miss that because I remember wanting to mow the lawn at 14 just so I could drive the John Deere riding mower. When I was a kid, I’d drive anything with a motor. I still will.
Siobhan M. Knox
In May 2016, I bought a five ton, 25’ long Class C motorhome because I like to drive, I like to travel, and it’s more fun and less expensive than living in a hotel. No prior RV experience was required, and I had none: perfect. I’m writing a book about my adventures which will come to an end when I get a job. The dogs will be sad.