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-Gramps-

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  1. -Gramps-
    PatrickH's blog entry From the beginning ... got me thinking.
    When did it start? When did the idea of being part of the motorhoming community first start to grow inside our brains? When did the idea first hit any of us, including Kay Toolson or John Crean, who founded Fleetwood, or Warren Buffet, the owner of Forrest River?
    All of us have our own story about how we ended up owning a motorhome company or, like most of us, just owning a motorhome.
    This is my story.
    Just about eight years ago my wife Diane, slipped on her padded wrist weights and headed out our front door to take her early afternoon walk through our neighborhood. She was not alone. Nickolas, our cocker spaniel, went right along beside her. It was a beautiful sunshiny April fool’s day with a bright blue sky and big fluffy clouds floating overhead.
    Diane took her journey of about two miles, which followed the main drive along the Western Branch of the Elizabeth River, past Tommy Newsom’s house, around the storm water lake and then the final road home, past Green Acres Presbyterian church, the playground and our front door.
    She never made it down the final road home.
    As she was passing a house owned by our neighbors, Radar, their pit bull mix dog, jumped the five foot chain-link fence and then raced to the street and grabbed Nickolas by the neck. Our dog let out a sound that Diane later described as a scream. Diane yelled at Radar with all the authority she could put behind it to let go and go home. The dog turned Nickolas loose and took off down the street.
    Nickolas lay on the ground and started to whine. Diane leaned down next to him to look for wounds. She was sure that there had to be a gash in his neck somewhere. There was not, but while she was looking, Radar, without a sound, hit her from behind. He grabbed her by the ankle, nipping through her Achilles tendon, and tried to drag her down the street. Diane, yelling again, turned and rapped him on the nose. He let go, and then as she was attempting to get to her feet, Radar clamped down hard on her left wrist, sinking his teeth into the exercise weight. Diane hit him again. The dog let go and then clamped down on her bare forearm.
    This time Diane screamed in pain and for help. She realized that this dog intended to kill her.
    A couple of blocks down the road, one of our neighbors heard her. He heard her screams for help over the sound of his lawnmower. He looked down the street, saw the dog and my wife, grabbed a brick out of his flowerbed and took off running. As he got close he yelled at the dog and waved the brick. Once more Radar let go of his intended victim and took off.
    Diane lay on the road with her blood literally flowing down the gutter.
    Across the street two more neighbors heard the noise, saw the dog take off and ran over. One was a nurse and the other was her daughter. The nurse borrowed Diane’s rescuer's shirt and tied it around Diane’s arm to stop the flow of blood while the daughter dialed 911.
    In less than ten minutes the rescue squad was on the scene. The paramedics refused to get out of the vehicle. They would not attend to my wife as long as the dog was on the loose.
    It took a lot of encouragement from our four neighbors, along with two boys who showed up, to convince the paramedics to get out and do what they needed to do. The boys, who happened to be riding by on their bicycles, said that each one would ride down to the end of the street and keep an eye out for the dog.
    Thanks to those brave boys and the actions of our neighbors, the paramedics were able to treat Diane and deliver her to the emergency room of the nearby hospital. The nurse and her daughter, after getting the key from Diane, delivered Nickolas back to our house. The poor dog was a nervous wreck.
    There were a lot of waiting patients at the hospital. Because Diane was mangled but not dying, they stuck her in a wheelchair and said she needed to wait. She rolled over to a free-for-patient’s payphone and called my voice mail/pager number.
    When I heard my beeper, I was standing in a dark phone closet located in a church. I was holding a flash light with my teeth staring at lots of wires on the wall. I reached down and unclipped my pager, read the number. I used my test set to call the paging service and listened to the message.
    I heard this soft, shaky voice.
    “Derrick, I was out walking Nickolas and got attacked by a dog. I am in the emergency room at Maryview. I thought you would want to know. “
    That was it. I had no idea how bad this was or wasn’t, but it did scare me to death. I charged out of the church and ran to my truck and drove a bit like a madman to the hospital, which was about nine miles away.
    When I arrived Diane was back in one of the trauma rooms. She was hooked up to an IV, her pants leg had been cut off at the knee and there were some bloody sneakers and wrist weights lying on a chair.
    We had some paper work to take care of. Pictures were taken and then they stitched her up, pumped her full of antibiotics and painkillers, bandaged her wounds. We filled out more paper work and received a set of crutches, followed by a trip in the wheelchair to my truck and home we went.
    Before I left the hospital the doctor talked with me and said that a main artery in her forearm (I don’t know which one) was missed by the dog by only a couple of millimeters.
    He also told me that the terrycloth-covered foam wrist weight bands she had on had saved her life. If the dog had gnawed her wrist the way he chewed up the band, that would have been it … chances are she would have bled out.
    Diane smiled at me the whole way home. It looked like a drunken smile to me. It did keep me calm and I can tell you I was pretty shook up.
    I thought about how close I had come to losing her. It wasn’t the first time she had been in the hospital for an emergency, but it was definitely the worst time. It made me start to reevaluate my position in life and what I wanted from it. I gave a lot of thought to what I wanted for me and for Diane.
    A few days later, I asked her what she wanted me to do for her.
    “What do you mean?’
    “Well, you were almost killed, don’t shake your head, we both know that could have happened. We have been working hard for a long time, you just got over back problems before this happened, we are not getting any younger and time is running out to try to make our dreams come true. So I think we should pick one and work on it ... so, which one? Trip to Greece? Bigger house? Want do you want?”
    Diane looked at me and said: "I want to look at campers. I want to spend more time camping in the mountains and I don’t want to sleep on the hard ground anymore.”
    I looked at her and said okay.
    I didn’t really mean it, because I didn’t think she meant it, either.
    Boy, was I wrong.
    Gramps
    http://community.fmca.com/blog/62/entry-536-how-did-it-start-part-two/
  2. -Gramps-
    Nickolas, the family pupster here!
    I asked Dad if he would let me post again. Last time, I hijacked his blog and posted on the sly. This time he said okay.
    I wanted to leave him and Mom a note. They may need what I write here one day.
    I am almost 85 years old now, in relative terms, and so I can say that chances are I have a little bit of time left, but only a little.
    I don't worry about the end of my life. Mom and Dad do that for me. They comment on how white my face is compared to how it used to look. They talk about how slow I am to get up from my nap in front of the TV. They don't like for me to wear myself out going up and down the coach steps.
    They concern themselves with how hot I am, because I pant a lot. Mom bought me this slick blue water-filled pad to help keep me cool. I am not crazy about it but I sleep on it, and that makes her feel better even if it doesn't do much for me.
    They really worry about a tumor that is growing on my left side. They talk about how much they hope it isn't cancer, but if it is, what they can do about it?
    Mom and Dad, especially Dad, could stand to learn a bit about life from me.
    Like I said, I don't worry. I don't worry about that lump or much of anything else.
    I don't give much thought to the squirrels that I can't chase around the back yard anymore. Actually, I never worried about them when I was younger, either. The moment one takes off up a tree, that's it for me. I find something else to think about-like breakfast.
    I can say for sure that life is far too short to spend time worrying about anything, except dinner.
    I love both of my people a lot. They have always given me a good life. I still have a good life even if things are changing. I can't hear much of anything anymore. I used to hear the brakes on Dad's old truck three blocks away. Mom was always amazed when I went to the door to wait for him, long before he pulled up in front of the house. Now I am sometimes surprised by him at the door instead of the other way around. But that is okay. I still follow him to his office desk, furiously wagging my tail, and he never fails to give my back a good scratch.
    Sometimes Dad is so tense when he gets home at the end of the day. I know it is my job to do something to help him, so giving the dog a good back scratching does as much, if not more, for Dad as it does for me.
    There was a time when Dad and Mom were saying something about Dad having a kidney stone. Dad was in pretty bad shape. I saw him on his knees next to his bed. He was sweating and moaning. The pain was so intense that Dad was starting to panic. I jumped up on the bed to be near him. I kissed his nose and then lay down.
    He put his hands on me and buried his face in my side. I did what I was supposed to do, I soaked up his pain. It took a little while but Dad calmed down and I could sense that he started to feel a bit better. I usually stick close to Mom, but Dad needed me, so I stayed right there with him for the rest of the day.
    During our last trip out in our coach (I like to call it the Bus) Mom and Dad watched this movie about a person who helps to heal horses. This person is called a horse whisperer. Dad says that I am a Human Whisperer. I am not sure what that means, but if being a Human Whisperer means being there for my people, reminding them that life should be lived mostly in the present and that love and kindness are what keeps us going, then that is what I am.
    I love my people. They are like gods to me. They are bigger and stronger than me and I trust them to look after me. I hope my love for them is a reminder that there is a greater power that is stronger and bigger than they are who loves them, too. I think it does.
    Many years ago we were on a camping trip, in a tent; this was before we got our fancy bus. It was a beautiful fall day and Dad grilled T-bone steaks for their dinner. The smell was great. I knew that they would share the best part of these wonderful smelling things with me.
    They would give me the bones.
    I was so excited to get one. Dad looked at me, happily chomping away, and then he looked at the mountains around us and the woods with all its bright colors.
    "This is just a bone," he said.
    "What?" Mom asked. "What are you talking about?"
    "This life and this world is just a bone" Dad said."This is just a taste of what God has in store for those who love Him. We should learn to love life and Him more."
    When the end of my life finally comes, just before I take my last nap, I hope the last thing I see is the love for me in the eyes of my people. I hope the last thing I feel is my Mom rubbing my head and my Dad scratching my back. I hope the last thing I do for them is to whisper that I love them and that life is good, keep on living it well, and thanks for giving me such a good one.
    Nickolas
  3. -Gramps-

    Signs

    By -Gramps-,

    If you are a regular reader of my blog you know that I enjoy the idea that motor homing is a metaphor for life.
    It is day four of a new year. How is this year going to be? That is certainly one question I don’t have the answer to. I am sure that many people would like to know what the future holds even if that knowledge is only about the next twelve months.
    When I was a kid I remember that there were a number of celebrity prognosticators that would make all kinds of predictions about the future. They predicted who would win the World Series, or who would win some national election or there would be an earthquake in Los Angeles that wipes out half the city. My dad used to say they would shotgun their so called prophesies. In other words make enough of them and maybe one or two might just happen.
    In my later years I would hear all kinds of people, including preachers and televangelists, predict that the world was about to end and that there would be all kinds of signs including famine, wars and an earthquake that would wipe out half of Los Angeles, foretelling and warning us of that coming event.
    The year 2000 was supposed to cause all kinds of terrible things to happen. Planes were going to fall out of the sky, the stock market would crash. For me the worst event was a lot of voice mail and phone systems crashing because they suffered from the dreaded Y2K bug. The best thing was I made quite a bit of money fixing those systems. I wrote my own program to do just that and made a lot of friends because I repaired the systems instead of replacing them.
    Now it is 2012 and people are once again looking for some kind of sign to tell them about our future or the lack thereof. According to the long gone Mayans the world is supposed to end at the end of this year. Will it be with a bang or a whimper? It seems to me that if the human sacrificing Mayans were so good at seeing into the future they would have done whatever it took to insure their own. They would have seen the signs so to speak. It there were any to see that is.
    I prefer not to worry about the end of the world. I do believe that there are signs of trouble on the horizon that we should pay attention to but I also think each day has enough trouble of its own.
    I believe that there are signs that we should pay attention to that will help us in our day to day lives, on and off the road, from getting into trouble.
    Let me simplify it for you.
    How many signs are there in your coach, signs that warn you of potential trouble if you don’t pay attention? Start looking and you may be surprised at just how many there are.
    Inside over the door of my coach was a sign that said something to the effect “make sure steps are extended before exiting.” I can’t remember the exact words and Diane peeled the sign off the wall. I asked her about that and she said “no one is going to read it when they need to cause it is posted in the wrong spot. Besides if you don’t see the steps after you open the door don’t step out of the coach!”
    That is logical but we know someone, actually it was the person who bought our Bounder, who didn’t notice the steps were not deployed after opening the door. Her two dogs jumped out of the coach before she could get them leashed (she opened the door thinking the screen would stay closed) and she went charging out after them only to fall on her face, bite through her lower lip and knock out two front teeth. Ouch!
    Next to the driver’s seat, posted to the wall above the seat belt anchor, is a little sign that says “Move cab seat forward before activating slide out.”
    Which should be easier to spot? Is it a little white note or a big captain’s chair that is too far back?
    The answer is; sometimes neither. I watched a tall salesman at an RV dealership forget to move the driver’s seat forward after he parked a coach and before he extended the main slide out. The chair was pushed off its pedestal with a loud crunch. I was surprised that the slide out didn’t stop as soon as it hit the chair. But I was also surprised when the main slide out in our coach removed the door to the cabinet housing the washer-dryer.
    Behind the curtains next to the drivers seat is a warning not to apply the parking brake while the vehicle is in motion. It also says something about the result being major damage and death or injury. No big deal.
    The third sign posted in the same spot reminds me not to press the accelerator while starting the engine. The sign says to turn the key only.
    I am not sure about that one. Is it there to help me not flood the engine? Or is it there to prevent me from plowing my coach through my one car garage?
    I suspect the first but the second might happen if I ignore the sign.
    There are more. Under my kitchen sink is a sign with lots of warnings about using propane. What to do if you smell it. There is also a list of things that could happen if you ignore this warning. The list includes explosions, fire, injury and possibly death.
    Two death warnings posted in the same coach!
    Inside the bathroom medicine cabinet door is a note about exceeding the GCWR of the coach and/or its towing capacity. What is the GCWR? It is the Gross Combined Weight rating which is made up of the CCC (carrying crappy cargo) and the weight of water in the tanks, passengers, fuel etc. It doesn’t say what happens if you exceed this GCWR (which you are supposed to consult your owner’s manual to find out how much that is) but if the results were listed I think they would include exploding tires, damage, injury and possible death!
    Makes you want to leave your coach in the driveway and hope the parking brake holds.
    There are many signs posted on the outside of my coach.
    On the fuel intake flap there is a sign that says “Unleaded Gasoline Only”.
    This sign takes on a special significance with my coach. I have a rear gas chassis. The fuel intake door is under the driver’s window….the same place you would find it if the coach were a diesel pusher. On more than one occasion I have been asked if I am using the correct fuel pump. It is one of my favorite questions. I know what kind of fuel goes in my coach but I sure want to avoid someone else making a big mistake. I can’t remember if a diesel fuel pump nozzle will not fit into a gas tank intake or if a gas nozzle will not fit into a diesel tank intake, and I don’t want to find out the hard way.
    On the gas flap is another sign. This one says to extinguish all appliances and igniters in the coach or something to that effect. Along with that is a warning that failure to comply could lead to….you guessed it….grave personal injury and or death!
    Next to the fuel warnings are warnings posted on the door to the compartment holding the propane tank. This sign is rather large and its message is posted in multiple languages. It repeats the same warning as the fuel warning label including the part about injury and death.
    Let us move farther down the coach. Inside of the wet bay we find all kinds of info posted about.
    There is a picture of a sink. Under that there is a neon yellow stick on label that reads “Warning! Clean with Windex only!”
    Thank goodness that failure to comply doesn’t result in serious injury. I hope not anyway.
    Why this warning isn’t posted in the head over the sink is a mystery to me.
    Up in the right hand corner of the bay there is a warning that says “Potable Water Only! Sanitize, flush and drain (consult owner’s manual) before using this tank!” Failure to comply (oh my goodness, not again!) could lead to serious illness or possible death!”
    I think the odds are beginning to favor death here.
    The last warning is posted next to a picture of a toilet. It reads “The sewer value must be open when using this inlet!” Now I know that the inlet posted in this warning isn’t the toilet itself, which is technically an inlet. No, the inlet is the flush valve. The sewer valve should indeed be open when back flushing or something very unpleasant might come out of the toilet.
    If my wife happened to be in the room housing said toilet and it did misfire due to my non compliance to posted warnings, the result for me or to me could be serious injury or possible death.
    I have only forgotten to open the valve once when flushing the tank. I was told of my mistake while washing the roof of the coach. I flew down the ladder in fear of becoming a player in a live scene from the movie RV.
    This brings me to my next to last warning. There is a sign attached to the roof of my coach under the ladder handles that reads, and I paraphrase “Maximum weight capacity 150 lbs when vehicle is moving.”
    Every time I read this sign the thought pops into my head that it must not be safe for me to hang on to this ladder, waving to passing cars, as the coach is flying down the road because I weigh 175 pounds!
    Of course we all know that lots of things are tied to roof ladders. Step ladders, bicycles, kayaks, mother in laws. Don’t exceed the 175 pounds. It isn’t printed on the label but if your kayak and your bicycle and your ladder flew off the back of the coach, I suspect it could lead to…forget it. Not going to say it … I am starting to scare myself.
    The last sign posted on the side of my coach is on the basement door located beneath the furnace. It reads “Caution…Do not allow door to remain open when furnace is running.”
    What does that mean? Don’t allow the door to remain open? I think it should read: “don’t allow the door to remain all the way open.” Locking it half way open is okay. All the way would allow the running furnace to blister the paint right off the door. That is no good. Unfortunately this half open door belongs to the basement compartment that I am in and out of the most, and so it is the door that I bang my head on the most. This is one time where complying with instructions leads to personal injury. I hope that I never hit my head so hard that it leads to possible death.
    We have now learned that signs posted inside and outside of our coach are there to make our Motorhome a safer place. That will be the result as long as we read them, pay attention, and comply with what these warnings tell us.
    I wish I had been able to take the Motorhome approach to raising my kids. I could have posted warnings all around their room.
    “Do your homework! Failure to comply can lead to failure at school which can lead to a lifetime of pain!”
    When my girls became teens and started noticing boys I could have stuck the following up on their wall:
    “Caution! A moment’s physical pleasure can lead to a lifetime of pain!”
    Along with that one how about:
    “Listen to your Mom and Dad so that your days will be good on this earth!
    Failure to comply can lead to a lifetime of pain!”
    And the last sign:
    "Warning! Don't insist on growing up so fast! Enjoy your childhood while you have one!
    Adulthood can lead to personal injury and will lead to eventual death!"
    You see I knew what the future could bring. As my kids grew older I could see the signs of trouble and would have done anything to prevent injury, physically, emotionally or any other kind, if possible.
    I think that the MotorHome approach to life is not a bad idea but only as long as you don't peel those signs off the wall and then charge out the door before the steps are deployed.
    Ouch!
    Derrick
    "Gramps".
  4. -Gramps-

    Appreciation

    By -Gramps-,

    Well it is another new year. I am sure that we all hope it will be a good one. This last one was a bit tough for my shrinking household. We lost a grandson, my wife lost her mother, our son moved out on his own (well that is a bittersweet thing). However, there were a lot of things that happened, friends we made, places we visited, and memories that were created this last year that allows me to appreciate 2011. One thing is for sure, I sill enjoy being a part of the motor coaching community. No depreciation there!
    I am working on an idea for my first big blog entry of the new year, which should be posted later today I hope. But the Christmas decorations have to packed away first. So until I can get words down on electronic paper maybe you will find this entry from a year ago worth reading or reading again.
    http://community.fmc...9-depreciation/
  5. -Gramps-

    It's Smokin!

    By -Gramps-,

    Our sixteen pound turkey is currently relaxing inside my electric smoker. It has been getting the smoke and steamed beer treatment for about two hours now with four to go. I keep checking the remote thermometer and making sure that the bird doesn’t finish its spa treatment too fast. This takes a lot of patience on my part but it will be worth it.
    Patience is the key, not just for smoking a good turkey but also to enjoying the Motorcoach lifestyle. In case you don’t already know it, rule number two of my rules for owning a Motorcoach is:
    Keep your temper on a very short leash or when owning a Motorcoach, patience is not only a virtue but a necessity.
    You can read more about this rule here:
    http://community.fmc...r-coach-part-2/
    Patience pays off in the long run. Exercising it will greatly improve your disposition and turn a bad situation or a coach you don’t like into something positive.
    Two weekends ago, Diane, Teddy Bear and I attended our annual Good Sam’s chapter ThanksMas party. This is our combination Christmas and Thanksgiving celebration. We eat, play games, eat some more (a lot more) and talk a lot. As at any gathering of motorcoachers (and that is what we are, no trailer owners in our group) we talk about our passion for motorcoaching. When talking about motorcoaching the conversation will include mishaps, repairs from said mishaps, the cost of those repairs and the advantage of buying a used coach over a new or vice versa. We enjoy the subject of motorhoming so much that I read all my one liners from Rule Number 4 for motorcoaching which caused a few flying elbows between husbands and wives as well as a few red faces.
    You can read more about rule #4 here:
    http://community.fmc...r-coach-part-5/
    The whole weekend made me realize that Diane and I are really at home in our coach.
    It didn’t start out that way. There was a very long list of things that were wrong that came with the coach and a number of things that went wrong later. I could have gotten mad and said:
    “This is a brand new coach and it shouldn’t have these troubles. I wish I had never bought the darn thing.”
    Actually I did say that a few times but I remained patient and did I what I had to do to get all the malfunctions functioning.
    My patience paid off. Our coach is now a very good one.
    My fellow motorcoachers in our club have learned the same thing. Stick it out, be patient, don’t expect everything to always be perfect. Just like life, that isn’t going to happen and you will only make yourself angry if you don’t learn to be patient and roll with it, whatever it may be.
    There will be troubles with your coach. Just be thankful when it works and for the friends it has helped you make and the places that it has carried you to.
    When people ask you “how’s your coach doing? “; you can answer “It was a turkey but now it’s smokin’!”
    Happy Thanksgiving!
    Gramps.
  6. -Gramps-
    Rule 4: Owning a motor coach is a never-ending learning experience -- continued.
    Well, I had so much fun coming up with a list of things that I have learned over the five years that my wife and I have been motorhoming, I figured why not write down a few more? So here goes:
    I have learned that men need a precise set of directions when parking the coach.
    And women know just how to give them. For example:
    "I SAID STOP! STOP! DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT STOP MEANS?"
    "DON'T BACK UP, YOU WILL HIT IT AGAIN!"
    "NO, NO, YOUR OTHER RIGHT!"
    "JUST LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE DONE NOW!"
    It's always the other person's fault when you miss your exit or hit a tree.
    The people camping next to you will find out first that you forgot to shut your black tank valve.
    My grandkids think the term "stinky slinky" is really funny.
    My wife doesn't like the way our all-in-one washer-dryer ties HER underwear into knots.
    A small speed bump can throw dishes around the coach. A big speed bump throws the dog around the coach.
    Old tube socks make great bottle savers; just make sure they are clean. I'm talking about the socks.
    Don't drive on the zipper, it's scary and you may lose a lug nut cap.
    While going down the road, I don't like hearing, "What the heck was that noise!?". even when I am the one saying it.
    If Wal-Mart doesn't have it, I must not need it.
    It burns me when the RV spots at Cracker Barrel have a car parked in them.
    It burns me even more when the RV spots at Camping World have a car parked in them.
    Sometimes when driving under an overpass, I get the urge to duck!
    My wife will not let me stop at South of the Border and buy anything.
    It's been over a year since we purchased our coach and I am still finding loose screws floating around inside.
    If you don't pack up your patio the night before you leave, it will rain.
    Quick disconnects are great on the water hoses except when you forget to turn off the water before disconnecting.
    I have learned that:
    Before pulling out of a campground, if your generator is off and your roof air is running, you may have forgotten to do something.
    I have a very tough shore power surge protector. How do I know? Because I dragged it down the road once and it still works great!
    I believe that some interiors of motor coaches were designed by people who smoke something more than just tobacco.
    At some point during a long trip I will bang my head on a slideout. It's going to happen, I might as well get used to it.
    The dash AC is always too cold for the pilot and not cold enough for the copilot, or vice versa.
    Most coaches have the dash radio positioned where no one can easily read it or adjust it (without falling out of your seat).
    I would rather be out in my coach than take a cruise or a trip to Europe. That's good, because I own a motorhome and can't afford to take a cruise or a trip to Europe.
    A bad day motorhoming beats a day at home in bed with a kidney stone (I had one of those two weeks ago).
    Fuel is always too expensive no matter what the price per gallon.
    A Ham and cheese sandwich in my motor coach at a rest stop on the way to somewhere tastes better than it does at home.
    I have learned that when I am home (in the stick house) I am always counting the days until I am on the road again with my beautiful wife and the pup.
    Feel free to comment and add to this list of "learned" things.
    Oh, Remember Rule Number 1!
  7. -Gramps-

    Gadgets For Christmas!

    By -Gramps-,

    Well, Christmas is only ……days away. You can fill in the blank yourself. I thought I would mention a few things that I would want for Christmas if I didn’t have them already and some things I don’t have that are on my list. These things are almost always gadgets of some kind.
    1. Winegard GS-wing Wingman Antenna upgrade. I have one of these. It attaches to an existing Sensor head with no tools required. It is supposed to increase UHF signal gain up to 100%. I am not sure it has done that for me but it has helped pull in stations that are far away, up to a point. You still have to rotate the antenna of course, which I find to be a real pain. If your digital TV has a viewable signal strength meter that helps.
    http://www.winegard....ngman/index.php
    2. Wingard Sensar Pro TV signal meter. I do have one of these installed in the overhead video cabinet of my coach. This direct replacement for a Winegard preamp is a helpful thing to have. It allows you to seek and peak digital TV signals before you run a channel scan on your TV. It helps you to aim your RV antenna with a numerical scale…the higher the number the better your aim. It provides 10db of gain, which will pull in that big game just enough to stop the picture from freezing and breaking up into those irritating squares.
    http://www.winegard..../sensar-pro.php
    3. Crossfires. This pair of gadgets is invaluable. Crossfires are a dual tire pressure equalization system. They provide a number of things. You have a window that quickly tells you if your tires are at or near proper inflation pressure. You have one point to inflate both tires. The most important thing is that the Crossfire system moves air back and forth between the two tires depending on which one is taking the most weight or if one has a leak the other tire will loan air for as long as it can, until the low pressure shut off activates. These things will add life to your tires and pay for themselves. I have been using them for seven years and they are a very good investment.
    http://www.dualdynam...res/index.shtml
    4. Rechargeable Family Radios (walkie talkies). No coach should be without a set of these. Hand signals alone or depending on a rear camera when parking the coach just don’t cut it if you ask me. You can go hog wild and buy a set of headsets or just go for a good set of handhelds, but do your self a favor and get a pair. You can always use them to keep up with the grandkids at Disney World. Store them close to the front door of your coach. Wal-Mart sells a whole range of them.
    http://www.walmart.c...ch_constraint=0
    5. Wireless thermometers with multiple remote transmitters. These things are great. Put a transmitter in your wetbay, one in the fridge and anywhere else you want one. It is always good to know if your beer is getting too warm or your water pump is getting too cold.
    http://www.acurite.c...hermometer.html
    6. A remote controlled AM/FM CD weather band dash radio. The remote is important. The co-pilot can use it to change the station so that the driver doesn’t have to look down or reach for the buttons. I am ordering the remote control for my Magnadyne today.
    https://recreationna...m9900cds-remote
    7. Cell booster/repeater. This is a great gadget. I have helped install them and my wife keeps complaining about the fact we don’t have one for ourselves. It is on my list. This device will find a cell signal and repeat it inside your coach where it would normally be weak. This helps to prevent dropped calls or helps you make a call in the first place. The key is to buy the correct system for your coach. I don’t recommend a tethered repeater. The best way to go is to have a multi user repeater that is wireless.
    http://www.wilsonamp...245-soho-rv-kit
    8. A GPS that is designed for RV/Coach use. My Droid phone has two gps programs. My Droid Tablet has one. I have GPS software installed on my Windows 7 tablet. I have a Garmin as well. None of them are going to keep me from driving under a too low bridge or taking the coach down a road that is too narrow. They are also not going to tell me where to find a campground or a big rig accessible gas station. Rand McNally has two RV friendly GPSs. I hope to find one under the tree for me this year.
    http://store.randmcn...CFchgTAodX2npKQ
    9. An air compressor is not exactly a gadget but it sure is nice to have for obvious reasons. You can keep all your tires both the coach and the tow inflated without have to negotiate gas stations, that is, if you can find one that has an air pump. I carry an older Huskey that I bought from Home Depot. It is on wheels, light and has enough horse power to fill my coach tires. The new model has a large compartment for hose and attachment storage.
    http://www.homedepot...ssor-91581.html
    10. A Brita water pitcher/filter. Sure beats carrying a lot of bottled water around plus you can keep the pitcher in the fridge.
    http://www.brita.com...water-pitchers/
    11. A Kindle for the co-pilot. There are not enough words to describe how much my wife likes her Kindle, the keyboard model. She is always looking for the deal of the day and free books to read. She uses it as we are going down the road. Hers is the keyboard with WiFi version. I sure was the hero when I bought it for her along with a leather case with built in led light. The light gets its power from the Kindle itself.
    http://www.amazon.co...sl_1h7nrm5wtl_b
    12. A Droid Tablet with Keyboard. I own one. I happen to have the Asus Transformer with keyboard/usb/ extra battery docking station. It is great. I can web browse, Skype, take pictures and videos, blog, take care of email business and download books to the Kindle ap or other reading aps installed on my tablet. I am also addicted to Angry Birds. The nice thing about it is that it is small, portable and still makes a great laptop at the same time. I did the midnight Black Friday thing and bought one for Diane as well. She loves it. The Asus Transformer is the best pad you can get, better than an Ipad 2. The new one coming out on the market is the Asus Prime. It is very light very thin and very fast. It also costs more than the Transformer.
    http://www.asus.com/...nsformer_TF101/
    13. CharGriller Table Top Grill and Smoker. This is not a gadget but deserves to be on the list. I own one of these and it is great!. Smokes, grills and makes everything taste better. Along with the grill you need a cover, a cast iron grate lifter, and an apron. You will cook and look like a pro with one of these grills. I know because I won an FMCA GEAR rally grilling contest using this beauty.
    http://www.chargrill...uemart&Itemid=2
    14. Dyson Ultracompact Vaccum. My wife owns the DC24, which was the predecessor of this vaccum. It is light, compact, so that you can hide it in a corner or store it in the basement. It works really well. It sucks up a lot of dirt off any type floor. There are no bags of course. Great attachments so you don't have to carry a dirt buster and a vacuum.
    http://www.bestbuy.c...8&skuId=8728736
    These are just a few gadgets that I think will improve your time in your coach and, in turn, improve your life!
    Gramps
  8. -Gramps-
    For the last week and a half I have been sick. The first couple of days I was forced to just lay around the house drinking Alka-Seltzer Cold remedy (every four hours) and feeling sorry for myself.
    Last Saturday afternoon around 2:30 p.m., I decided that I had had enough of being ill. I drank my last seltzer, put on some shorts and my mowing shoes. I mowed the yard, then trimmed and edged it. I also pulled all the weeds out of the flowerbeds. When I was done, I was tired and sore but I felt much better than before I started. I realize now, that at my age, if I don't have the energy to get something done, if I can't make myself get up and start moving just because I don't feel good, then I am in trouble. I can't work only when I feel like it.
    Motor coaching is like that as well.
    I might as well leave the coach in the driveway if the only time I am going to take it out is when conditions are perfect. Not every trip can be to Disney World. Sometimes you just have to start it up and go somewhere! You never know what you might find when you get there. That's one of the reasons we took the trip to Indiana. We wanted to go get our coach repaired but we also wanted to go where we would see something new. We wanted to have a bit of an adventure.
    Pilgrimage to Elkhart, Day 3 and Day 4: The Reason for Going.
    Sunday morning found us all up and about quite early. It was our last leg. We had about a six hour journey to the ESC campground. We planned our exit out of the Clearwater RV camp and back to I-77. Not far to the north we would be leaving the interstate and then heading due west on the Ohio Turnpike.
    We made a big loop in the campground headed up to exit, drove the up and down road back to the Interstate. Within minutes we were at a cruising speed of 62 miles per hour.
    We didn't stop until we reached the Erie Isle rest stop near the Indiana state line. I found the view out the windshield to be quite nice. It had been a long time since I visited Ohio and the same for Indiana. I had spent quite a bit of time in Cincinnati when I worked for AT&T but I saw very little of the state, from the ground anyway.
    Diane and I, back in the seventies, when we were working for PTL, made a long bus trip from Charlotte, through West Virginia to Canton Ohio for a telethon.
    Tammy Bakker and some of the PTL wives, including my own, were seated in the back of the bus. They were laughing and chatting quite loudly about something. I took a walk back there and sat down. Tammy had a stack of National Inquirers on the seat next to her and all the girls were looking over the headlines. The paper had typical stuff about three headed babies, UFO sightings, celebrity wives cheating on husbands and vice versa. Tammy laughed and said wouldn't it be a hoot to be on the cover?
    I don't know if I said it then, but one should always be careful what one wishes for.
    Now, many years later, we were traveling through Ohio in our own bus so to speak. It is a pretty state. Big corn fields, horse farms with rolling hills and white fences. I found it to be a most pleasant drive.
    Shortly after passing the Sandusky exit we came to the Eerie Isle rest stop. It was an interesting place with a neat visitor center, a Starbucks, a food court and a good size gift shop with lots of Cleveland Indians merchandise. We spent a bit of time there, and after we let Nickolas stretch his legs we hit the road again.
    The tolls on the Ohio Turnpike are a bit steep, twenty five bucks one way. The good thing is you take a ticket when you get on and pay once, when you get off. We paid at the Indiana state line. From the toll we had sixty more miles to our Elkhart exit.
    An hour later we were exiting off the Indiana Turnpike, paying another toll, ten bucks this time, and driving the main business route to our final stop. We passed some rv factories along the way, along with some transport holding lots. In other words we saw a lot of towables and quite a few coaches. We also drove by the RV Hall of Fame. We knew we were coming back there in a couple of days.
    Soon we pulled into the ESC compound. There were two large buildings with a lot of bays all of them closed on Sunday of course; we drove past them to a gravel campground located behind the second building. Gary and I picked a spot. We both leveled our coaches and then Gary discovered that there was no water or power. Not good. I suspected that the campground was still winterized. We did some walking around and discovered the main power breakers were turned off. We turned them on and we had power but still no water.
    We decided that what water we had in our tanks was best reserved for flushing; not washing dishes, so dinner at Cracker Barrel seemed like a good idea. We passed one on the way in, so it was easy to find our way back.
    I ordered some kind of Southern Boiled Dinner with shrimp, red skin potatoes, corn on the cob and sausage that was really good. I don't remember what everyone else had. After dinner we browsed the country store for awhile and then headed back.
    I think I was in a bit of a daze now that we were finally in Elkhart. What's the big deal about being there? Well, we had tried two times before to make the trip and things just didn't work out. It also didn't work out for us to go to the Monaco Service center at Wildwood Florida either. We were just a few days away from making the trip when Monaco called and cancelled on us. They were just a few days from declaring bankruptcy and laying everyone off. This meant that for two years, Diane and I had been trying, unsuccessfully, to repair our coach problems. The first week we owned it we took it to a dealer where is sat for four weeks and nothing was fixed. I could tell you how bad that experience was but I won't. We also took it numerous times to independent service facilities, where some good techs tired to fix the slide out problems but they, at the most, had some temporary success. I had also tried to fix it myself, but as much as I hate to admit it, I think that only made it worse.
    So, I was now going to get factory service. Although, based on telephone support from the techs I had every reason to think that the problems would be resolved I still was anxious. I hoped to not have any unpleasant surprises and/or disappointments.
    Gary and I both piddled around our coaches, looking through all the basements, checking the roofs, looking for anything and everything that we wanted the guys to fix, modify or repair. We each made a list and then compared and discussed what on the list we would actually get done and what we guessed it might cost. Our lists had a number of things in common:
    We both needed our main slide out cables replaced and adjusted. Gary needed work done on his bedroom slide out as well.
    We both needed repair of our fresh water tanks (mine leaked due to the overflow plumbing missing; Gary's sagged due to a support strut missing.)
    I wanted my coach roof inspected and resealed where necessary.
    Gary needed his shower door to be adjusted so it wouldn't bounce out of its track while traveling down the road.
    We both had front door locking arm problems. They locked when we didn't want them to and wouldn't when we needed them to. In other words they were a pain.
    I had holes in my bathroom vinyl floor that Diane wanted fixed. I told her I thought only one was all that bad, but more about that later.
    I needed some interior work done on the facade covering the main slide out motor and chains. Gary needed the same but he left the facades back home in his garage.
    Gary had a rear basement door that was coming loose from the coach.
    Gary also had a wiper park failure alarm that remained constantly on his dash instrument panel.
    We both wanted our coach chassis lubed and I wanted an oil change as well.
    I needed some touch up paint mixed up. A small item but nice to have when you need it.
    We both wanted our auto levelers recalibrated. When Gary auto leveled his coach, the front end would end up ten inches off the ground. My coach auto jacks would take the back end off the ground and that rendered the parking brake useless.
    While Gary and I were comparing notes and just wondering around our coaches a Forest River Wildcat fifth wheel pulled into the campground. It looked new and it had Quebec plates. A gentleman exited his pickup and started hooking up the fiver. We helped him find a hot pedestal. Not all of them were working. Gary and I could never figure out why that was, but I tried cause I love a good electronic mystery.
    I don't remember the gentleman from Canada's name. I am terrible with names. I am fortunate to remember the names of my own kids. But I remember faces and conversations and he had a very friendly face and we had a good conversation with him. He had been traveling with a group, a caravan as it were, to Mexico. He left the group to come back to Elkhart, where he bought the trailer, to have some paperwork cleared up so he could take the fiver across the border back into Canada. That part of his story was interesting if you like hearing about the pains of dealing with government bureaucracies, but the real story was why he purchased this slightly used Wildcat in the first place.
    It seems that the original brand new Wildcat that he left Canada with had a couple of unfortunate accidents. One, he blew a tire that ruined a wheel. The replacement wheel was not installed correctly so he lost it and that ruined the wheel well and tore up the side of the trailer at the same time. He had to leave the caravan to Mexico in order to take care of that problem. I think he said he got it fixed in Elkhart and then left for Mexico on his own where he planned to rejoin his group somewhere in Texas.
    He made it as far as West Indianapolis where due to a wrong turn and some bad directions, he found himself, at night, going down a very dark road where he passed under a barely viewable old bridge that was about a foot lower than the top of the fifth wheel. Well, I think you get the picture. The bridge grabbed the rubber and peeled it back, along with his fan vents and air conditioners. The roof just rolled itself up like a big "rubber burrito".
    After calls to the police to explain why this rv was blocking traffic, and some roadside assistance, he extracted the coach from the bridge's jaws and took it back to Elkhart. There, he discovered, it was a total loss. But there was a happy ending; he was able to purchase a used Wildcat that was an upgrade from his new one and still make it to Mexico where his thirty day temporary tag expired thus causing his Canadian Customs problems with his paperwork.
    Like most experienced rvers, our new friend from Canada made this story sound humorous while describing his troubles towing a big rig, he used the phrase, "Things can happen, you know and they are not always good." I have used that phrase myself a time or two, but his accent is much better than mine.
    After hearing this adventure, we realized it was starting to get really cold outside so we called it a night. I guess I may have gone inside and read for awhile or watched TV. I don't know. I remember hearing a lot of trailers being towed past us to the transport company holding lot next door. I think that noise went on until about eleven that night.
    Day 4
    I was up around seven buttoning up the coach. Around seven thirty, I was standing just inside of Gary's door when I saw a person with a clipboard heading our way. I learned that his name was Walt and he was the tech in charge of taking care of Gary's UFO. I left Walt to talk with Gary and as I was heading back to my coach, Roger, the tech in charge of my coach was waiting for me.
    Roger, a really nice guy, was wearing a Monaco jacket. I found out that he, like most of the techs at Elkhart Service and Collision, had worked for Monaco/Holiday Rambler before it went under. They were quite familiar with our coaches. They would be taking care of our list while offering any needed assistance to the techs from BAL who would be working on our slide outs. The BAL techs had arrived at the shop at seven that morning very anxious to get started.
    That was one of the best things about this whole experience. Working with techs who wanted to work and get things fixed as fast as possible and more importantly get it fixed right. I know that sounds simple, "get it fixed right". I sure knew what it was like to have things fixed wrong.
    Just at seven forty five our coaches were parked side by side inside two big service bays. We all watched them pull in and the doors went down. Now we had to figure out how to keep ourselves entertained for the next eight hours.
    We decided to visit the local Amish farm market for a big breakfast and then head over to the outlets in Michigan City. This was going to be a shopping day. I was not in a big spending mood but hey you never know what you might find. My mood could change.
    It didn't. At eight twenty we were sitting in the farm market parking lot. The place was not open until the weekend so we were trying to decide where to go for breakfast. Before we could make a decision my phone started to ring and I spent the next sixty five minutes trying to solve multiple emergencies back home. It was crazy. I told Diane she would have to drive.
    We went to a convenience store for gas. Diane had to pump it herself. She went in for coffee. I walked in and told her I was driving back to the coach to get my cell phone charger. She didn't look too pleased. We informed Gary and Janis where we were going. They said they would wait there until we got back. We drove to the coach and I made a mad dash inside the service center to get my charger. There were techs all over our two coaches, like ants at a picnic. I could see a tech in the overhead of Gary's slide out (or was it mine?) and they were in the bays as well. It was very obvious these people don't mess around.
    I had just a second to meet JD the manager and then it was back to my car. As soon as I sat down and plugged in my cell, two calls hit me at the same time.
    I hardly noticed the scenery as Diane followed Gary to Michigan City. We finally made it and found a breakfast place that served really good skillets. I ate mine without interruption and we walked over to the outlets. Just as we walked into the first store my second round of calls began. I was on the phone for another two hours and then I had to listen to the low battery beep again until we had enough of shopping and went back to the car.
    I wish I could have a real vacation. I have forgotten what one of them is like, one with no business phone calls or other interruptions. I can only hope to have a few of them again one day.
    At three thirty we were turning down the road to the shop. As we approached the campground we saw both our coaches parked in their spots, with power hooked up, jacks down and all slides out. That was a sight. I entered the coach and immediately tried the main slide out. It moved in and out like a dream. It was enough to make a grown man cry. No, I didn't really cry, but I sure was happy to see that slide out flush against the living room wall for the first time.
    I checked the bathroom floor and I could not tell where the repair was, it looked perfect. Diane took a look and said "What about that tear? I think we should get them to fix that too."
    I had told Roger to fix the worst spot in the floor, but now the remaining hole looked really bad so I had no problem with Diane's request.
    I hopped out of the coach to see how Gary had made out. He looked pretty pleased, so I suspected his slide outs were working rather well. He told me that the techs had not quite finished yet with the bedroom and he also pointed out that both of us needed new sweeps and gaskets and that had not been done yet either. All that meant was they needed at least another day, and that was quite okay with both of us.
    "Let's take a look at your water tank" Gary said. So we did. There was now an overflow tube right were it was supposed to be. No more water flowing into my basement while going down the road. We checked out Gary's tank and could see a new welded stainless steel support where one was missing before. It looked really good.
    Gary informed me that his auto levelers now worked like a charm. I informed him that I forget to tell Roger to adjust mine. That would go on tomorrow's list.
    Both Gary and I were feeling as much like kids at Christmas that two guys in their fifties can. I hope that most of my coach friends can relate to how two years of coach issues can affect one's relationship with one's coach. If you can relate then you must know how good it felt to see these long going problems resolved. Not just fixed but fixed by people who really know and care about what they are doing. That is so rare these days to have that happen.
    Diane called me in for some leftovers that we brought from home. I wasn't all that hungry, but I figured I had to eat something and why not have a Woodchuck cider to celebrate our first day's good results? First though we took the coach to fill up the water tank. It was a pleasure to work the slides again, unplug the coach, get some water and then set back up. It took about thirty minutes to do and while the tank was filling I talked to Walt and Roger and told them what a great job they had done so far.
    Then it was quick dinner of something, I can't remember what, oh it was meatloaf and sweet potatoes. We watched the first half of Dances with Wolves and pretty soon it was time to call it a night.
    Even with all the phone calls it had been a very good day.
  9. -Gramps-

    Bicycle Built for Four

    By -Gramps-,

    Last Friday morning I headed out to Lowes to buy a couple of things. I needed a flush valve seal for the low flow toilet in the bathroom next to our bedroom. I put off getting one for days just because I hate anything to do with plumbing. Plumbing is wet and it leaks and it frustrates me. However, a water bill that is bigger than it should be due to a bad toilet frustrates Diane so I found myself at Lowes buying the seal, some light bulbs (the old fashioned kind). I also picked up a Roman Shade for the coach bedroom door window.
    Diane didn’t want me to get one of those yet, not until she could shop with me. I wanted one right away because we were leaving later that afternoon in the coach with our grand boys for a little weekend camping trip to the Virginia Beach KOA. We needed the shade because Teddy Bear tore up the mini blinds that use to hang on the bedroom door. We had accidentally closed the door before we left Teddy alone in the coach while we took a trip to somewhere. He likes to sit in the bedroom chair and look out the window. He tried to open the door and in the process bent the blinds beyond repair. It didn’t matter that much, because we never liked them.

    So I came back with a shade. Diane was going to hang the dog blanket over the window for some privacy but the shade was on sale so I hoped the low price would compensate for a color she might not like. She frowned at me when she saw it, and reminded me that we were supposed to look together but she also said that it didn’t look all that bad.
    So I avoided that problem, and then tackled the leaky toilet. I did manage to fix it pretty quick so we packed up the coach and waited for the boys to arrive.
    Christine, Rob and little Brooklyn along with Carson and Austen pulled up around two in the afternoon. By two thirty, the car was hooked up and we were on our way to the Beach.
    It took about forty minutes to get parked on the site. The boys went exploring while I hooked up the coach and set up our patio. Then I hung the Roman shade. Diane actually thought it looked good. I was relieved.
    Once that was done, I went looking for the boys and found them on the basketball court. We played Cow, then Bird, and no matter what I could not beat Carson. The old man can’t out shoot the eight year old.
    They talked me into trying the giant jump pillow. This is a very large air filled trampoline. I gave it a whirl but I didn’t stay on it long. I figured if my knees gave out my butt would take a big bouncing whack. Actually, it was fun. You can get quite a bit of height, enough to do flips (Not Me!) and there are no springs to trap you and then break your leg.
    I fired up my Char-Griller kettle and I put chicken breasts with rice and mushroom soup wrapped in foil on the coals. Forty minutes later when had tender chicken, with rice and steamed broccoli for dinner. I used the coals to start a fire in the ring. Austen had procured the wood from the camp store earlier. We roasted marshmallows and made smores.
    After all the dinner stuff was cleaned up the boys came into the coach to watch “Back to the Future’ part one. They had never seen it before. It was fun to watch a movie with the boys about 1955 set in 1985. All of it was a trip to the past for them, big video cameras, Sony Walkman cassette tapes and all as well as Mr. Sandman and black and white television sets. The line in the movie “Who the heck is John F Kennedy?” is ironic for a number of reasons. They want to watch part 2. They will both find out the future, now their present, didn’t turn out exactly like the movie predicted.
    Saturday morning arrived clear and cool. It was going to be a glorious day. We all had sausage and egg biscuits nuked in the microwave, except for Teddy Bear of course. Then the boys took off for the jumping pillow on their scooters. I decided to make some minor repairs to the coach.
    I climbed up on the roof with needle and thread and repaired one of the bedroom slide out toppers. Then I waxed and buffed a section of the roof. I had some samples of RV wax-cleaner and I just wanted to see what they would do. Not that much it turned out. That reminds me I need to climb back up their and buff that stuff off.
    After my trip to the roof, I tightened up a loose bolt that holds the bay heater element wire to the snap fuse. I think that it being loose was the cause of the heater not blowing warm air last winter. That resulted in a frozen water pump. I would like to avoid replacing it again this winter.
    Diane and I let the boys set their own schedule for the morning. We figured as long as they were having fun…then we could have some time to ourselves. Both of us opened e-books and read most of the morning. I was trying to get through “Endeavor in Time” a Christian novel about time travel. It wasn’t written very well at all. The author borrowed from the TV series “Quantum Leap” and I think he should have left it alone. I finished the book and parts of it were okay but that is the best thing I can say about it. “The Door into Summer’ written in 1955 is a much better book if you want to read a time travel novel. It too has some predictions about the future that didn’t work out the way the author envisioned. That is part of what makes it fun.
    We read until lunch time which was the same time the boys came back to the coach.
    After lunch, all of us piled into the car and headed for the Virginia Beach boardwalk. After we parked we walked to a bicycle rental stall at 11th and Atlantic. We rented a surrey, one of those four person pedal cars. Diane had a coupon for the rental and we bought an hour for half the normal price.
    Carson and I took the front seats, Diane, Teddy Bear and Austen sat down in the back. We set off down the bike path.
    Pedaling that thing was hard work, plus the brake didn’t function. We could only stop the rig using the Flintstone method.
    I found out real quick that Carson was not much help propelling the coach as he could not reach the pedals. Teddy Bear was not comfortable riding on Diane’s lap so we decided to rearrange things a bit. Carson and Diane switched seats, Teddy went in the baby seat all the way up front.
    That worked out really well. The dog seemed to like being in the basket and he got lots of attention from the people we passed. Carson could stand up on the pedals in the back and so he became more than just dead weight. He became the afterburner. Whenever I called for "Turbo power", he would hit the pedals and give us a sudden burst of speed that didn’t throw us back in our seats but still moved us along at a much faster pace.
    We pumped that thing for an hour. It wore me out, but it was a lot of fun for all of us. As we were pedaling along we watch people horse back riding, and kite flying. We saw one person on an electric unicycle. We passed other surries and gave the passengers a big wave as we went by. We sang as we rode. It was a good hour.
    We returned the bike and then went to the closest grocery store for some ice cream. While there I bought some of those packaged adult juice boxes….Mar-Go-ritas or something like that. You put em in the freezer, until they get slushy and then serve them. You have to squeeze them to get the good stuff out. I bought them for all the adults coming for a cook out that night.
    Once we were back in the coach I served up some pretty good coffee ice cream to Diane while the boys and I had some Chocolate Truffle. Then Carson and I hung a string of rope lights that had been on the ground, from the patio awing. About the time we finished Christine showed up with sleeping Brooklyn. They left her with me while everyone else went back to the bouncing pillow.
    As soon as all were gone, Brooklyn woke up and started screaming at me. I guess she might have been hungry but there was nothing I could do about that. I couldn’t find her always near pacifier either. The only bottle I had was in the freezer and it contained booze. I thought about it but I figured if I drank a Mar-go-rita, it would only dull the pain in my ears for a second or two. So I paced around and patted her little bottom until help arrived.
    Christine took her from me, laid her on the dining table to change her and Brooklyn immediately shut up and began to smile.
    If I had known that putting her flat on her back and letting her kick her feet was all she wanted well, I could have done that.
    We all sat around and talked for awhile and then I fired up a chimney of coals for the grill. Joel and his girl friend Ashley were planning to come for burgers and baked sweet potatoes.
    I threw some Bubba Burgers on the grill, started a camp fire and put the Beatles in the coach CD player.
    When Joel and Ashley arrived I handed them each an adult juice box. Ashley, who had never been in the coach before, got the ten cent tour.
    Dinner was good. The conversation was good. Smores afterwards were good to.
    The evening flew by and soon the boys, Diane and I were left alone in the coach. We hit the bed around eleven.
    Sunday was simple. We packed up and were out of the KOA by noon. Home by one, boys gone by three. A quick weekend but it was really nice. Carson and Austen loved it. Christine got some time to herself, as much as you can get with a newborn daughter. Diane and I got to spend time with our grandsons.
    There is nothing wrong with that. I look forward to taking them out again.
    -Gramps-
  10. -Gramps-

    Looking Up

    By -Gramps-,

    Diane has spent the last week in Florida visiting our daughter, Jeri, and her family. The care of myself, Joel, the house and last but not least, Teddy Bear, has been left to me.
    That means that I need to take a high-energy, long-legged Cocker Spaniel for a walk every day or he goes stir crazy. When that happens he rings the bell hanging by the back door every ten minutes so that someone, me, will let him out.
    Getting up from the couch every ten minutes tends to spoil the continuity of the football game or whatever it is that I am watching at the time.
    I have taken him for a walk every day, except one rainy day, since Diane left. We walk in our own neighborhood. The weather has been good. The skies have been blue and the leaves are starting to have their best color. Teddy walks with his nose to the ground. Scents are like candy to him. He reads the entire local doggy P-mail at each mailbox post. He sniffs the trash cans. I give him the leash every now and then just so he can follow a scent trail until he decides to resume his happy little trot down the street. It quickly becomes obvious that my dog enjoys living in the moment.
    I have taken a cue from Teddy Bear. I don’t walk with my nose to the ground of course, but I still use my senses to enjoy the moment.
    I see. Most people tend to watch their own feet when they walk. I look up. I watch the gentle swaying of the trees in the wind. I glance at the sun as it peeks between the branches of the tall pines. I take in the contrast of the red maples against a bright blue sky. I notice the clouds moving across the sky and just like when I was a kid they start to take on shapes. One might become a ship, another a flock of sheep, another the profile of a sleeping old man.
    I listen. The wind in the trees reminds me of the ocean on a calm day with the waves gently crashing against the shore. Wind blowing through a grassy field sounds the same way. There is something about that sound, that continuity, that I find peaceful. It is a common thread that our Creator has woven though his creation.
    I smell. Well, you know what I mean. I use my nose. I smell the leaves wet with dew. I smell the wood smoke coming from fireplace chimneys that we walk by. Smells provoke memories, more than sights or sounds. When I smell wood burning, I am carried back to the mountains, where I am sitting around a campfire with my family and my friends. I remember the nights spent in a tent, looking up at the stars through the screen window, listening to the wind in the trees. I think about how my life has changed from tent to coach both literally and figuratively.
    This last Sunday Teddy Bear and I took our walk at the Portsmouth Seawall. We walked along the Elizabeth River while watching the ships in the yards across the river in Norfolk. I looked at the downtown Norfolk skyline while Teddy checked out all the smells. We listened to the water lapping against the seawall. We both watched other walkers, human and doggy. We talked to both.
    There is a boat landing built into the seawall where the ferry to Norfolk docks. Mariners visiting Portsmouth can dock there as well. As we were walking buy I smelled charcoal smoke. It took me a minute to find the source. It was coming from a metal chimney on a ketch, a sailboat. The smell made me think of salmon steaks on the grill, corn on the cob and a cold one. I wondered whether the person in the boat was getting ready to cook steaks or shrimp or just taking the chill out of his floating home.
    We spent quite a bit of time in the Portsmouth Marina, walking by the boats docked there. We gazed at a multi million dollar yacht. I looked with admiration at a wooden, teak to be exact, schooner that was built in 1938. It had either been restored or a lot of people have been giving it tender loving care for a long time. Either way it was a beautiful boat.
    Where have these boats been, I asked myself. Have any been around the world? I imagined what it must be like to be at sea, no land in sight, sailing to some exotic location.
    As I was looking at the boats, some big, some small, some huge I reminded myself that I own something like it only it is on wheels.
    I read all the names. “Sail Away,” “Endeavor II,” “The Christine Marie,” to name a few. I found the last name to be interesting because that is my daughter’s name. One of my favorite names was “Better Times.” We can only hope that is the case for us all.
    There will be better times, but right now isn’t so bad, either. Like Teddy Bear keeps telling me ... enjoy the moment.
    Well, got to go. Diane will be at the Norfolk airport in an hour. Seeing her again is a moment I am going to enjoy, for sure.
    Speaking of better times, Jeri is expecting a healthy baby boy sometime around April 7, 2012, on her son Dylan’s birthday.
    Things are looking up.
    Gramps
  11. -Gramps-

    Family

    By -Gramps-,

    I believe that I am a pretty good motor coach pilot. I still believe that, even though I hit my mailbox while making a sharp turn into our driveway. Obviously I didn’t pull up the street far enough and turn sharp enough, but no real damage done, except to my pride.
    My car driving skills while making service calls … that is another thing altogether. I tend to talk on my cell too much while driving. I get distracted by the radio, the voices in my head, and the vehicles in front of me. The last thing really bugs me. I can be behind a dump truck, or a bus carrying seniors, while talking to a customer on the phone and I will blindly follow the bus down some street and then wonder how I got there.
    If you were to ask Diane about it, she would say that I followed it because I couldn’t help myself, that I did it instinctively, like a salmon swimming upstream.
    “You think so?” I would say to her.
    “Yep,” she might reply. “You are an old man and subconsciously you know you should be on that bus.”
    “Very funny. So how do you explain my following a dump truck?”
    “I can answer that. Because when you have rocks in your head you are magnetically attracted to trucks hauling large quantities of the same material.“
    Well, I don’t make stupid driving decisions when driving the coach. Not many, anyway. Our first year as owners of a motor coach was the worst getting into scrapes which included hitting a fence (actually the fence hit me), a mailbox, a tree, a tree, (no that is not a typo) a rock or two (they hit my coach windshield). I think that is about all. Oh, I ran over a low rock wall with our second coach, the one we have now, and I hit a telephone pole (actually the pole hit me).
    If I were to list all the mishaps including bangs, bumps, holes, rips, and things that make you say, “What the heck was that!” along with all the things that break on their own … I might have to ask myself the following question:
    What in the world has kept me in the RVing (motor coaching) world for the last seven years?
    That question is easy to answer.
    Family.
    It is the people we have met, the friends we have made that keep me looking forward to hitting the road again even though I might hit something else or it might hit me.
    We RVers, we motor coachers, are a rare breed. I don’t know how to explain it to people who don’t do what we do how easy it is for us to make friends.
    Just the other day I was at a Sonic Drive In next to a Lowes. At the edge of the Lowes parking lot was a good -looking 36 foot motor coach. It had its jacks down and its slideouts extended. Sitting in a lawn chair on the grass was a man named Bob and his black lab. Bob was taking it easy, smoking a cigar and seemed to be without a care in the world.
    I walked over and started talking to him. When I told Bob I was a coacher as well, he gave me a big smile and started telling me about himself. Bob was visiting his daughter, a Navy officer, who was soon to be deployed to the Middle East. He and his wife had traveled from Arizona to see her. I told him about myself, my family and my coach. We talked for over an hour and parted as friends. Something tells me I will see him again one day.
    I think we have the old American pioneering spirit still living in us. We are descendants of the people who loaded up their covered wagons and headed west. They would rally up at some fort on the trail. They shared food, and drink and stories.
    These stories were about their journeys and the friends they made along the way. They would make new friends as they would travel together. If someone’s wagon broke down, or a horse died, they would pitch in and help their fellow traveler in need.
    We do the same thing now. I have helped repair a stuck Workhorse or two. My wife and I have been to lots of rallies and fed lots of people. People have looked after us. Our coaching friends on the forums, at campouts and especially at Deer Creek Motorcoach resort helped us though some tough times this last year.
    I don’t think that Barry and Mario had any idea what kind of community they would be giving birth to when they conceived the idea of building a motor coach resort. Deer Creek is more than a resort with clubhouse, golf course and a lot of handsome coaches parked on pretty lots. It is not just a resort … it is a refuge. It is a fort full of good people.
    We are family. I would not give up this life for anything. I will continue to hit the road and take the risk that something unexpected might happen. Most of the time that unexpected thing is good, like meeting someone like Bob and making a friend, possibly for life.
    That is the best thing about being a member of the motor coach Family.
    Hopefully I won’t have to buy a new mailbox anytime soon.
    Gramps.
  12. -Gramps-
    According to my outdoor wireless thermometer it is currently 43 degrees Fahrenheit. I am sitting comfortably in my motorcoach listening to two things ... a worship CD and the intermittent sound of ice falling inside the fridge. I am defrosting and so is the fridge. As you may have gathered from my previous blog entries, or lack thereof, I have been pretty much frozen in place at home maintaining my business. Our coach has just been sitting waiting for us to come back to it.
    This last Tuesday we finally made it back home to Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort (the One in Galax Virginia!).
    The moment the automatic gate started to open and I had an unimpaired view of the hills, my heart started to melt. We unpacked the over packed car and hauled all our stuff into the coach. The first thing on our list (after putting out the slide outs and water connections and such) was to move all the stuff in the cooler to the refrigerator. I opened it and all the bottles of water and Arizona iced tea that had been in there since July 15th were frozen solid. I didn't want to deal with this right now so I loaded it up and placed some containers of hot water under the coils in order remove some of the ice that had built up around them. Once that was done, and all our other items were put away we headed out the door to explore our home away from home and more importantly to see our friends.
    The place has changed, a lot. There are coaches parked on newly poured pads and new cabins going up almost every day. The golf course has new green markers and the numbers have been changed. It is no longer my private golf course by default. There are plenty of players who use it now. That is a good thing. Golf courses, just like motorcoaches, need people using them. If both had souls they would long for people to use them.
    I sometimes think my coach does have a soul.
    I could have sworn I heard a sign of relief when we came through the door.
    "Finally, they are back, I hope that they have come to take me out on the road !"
    We will be taking the coach back to our stick house when we leave next week. The summer is over for us. It was short and not so sweet. Frankly I am relieved it is over. We look forward to a quiet Thanksgiving including a camping weekend in Williamsburg, celebrating Teddy Bear Day, followed by a good Christmas. We will spend some time with our FMCA chapter over the Holidays.
    New Year's Day plus one or two should find us heading to Florida and Fort Wilderness.
    A long peaceful road trip. It is just what we need. It will unwind the knots in my soul. Just thinking about traveling down the road makes me feel like a motorcoacher again. Once I start feeling like a motorcoacher again, I start thinking like one too.
    When I think like a Motorcoacher my head fills up with ideas.
    Here are a few.
    A clear plastic sewer connection is a good thing to use. That way you will see the juice box that your grand kids dumped in the toilet as it makes its final destination.
    Your tool kit should always include a small volt ohm meter. You can check your battery voltages, check for loose grounds (the bane of most 12 volt systems) and do an accurate check of fuses to see if they are still viable.
    Dental floss will work really well to make a quick repair of broken day-night shade strings.
    I carry a curved upholstery needle, outdoor UV resistant thread and fabric glue. Those three things will help you greatly extend the life of your awnings and slide out toppers. Run a bead of UV resistant Fabric glue along all your topper seams. It will keep the thread from rotting so fast.
    My supply kit also includes a couple of cans of spray-on silicon protectant. I spray that good stuff on my patio umbrellas, slide out toppers and various other cloth things that get exposed to the outdoor sunshine and rain.
    Don't buy cheap self leveling caulk. It doesn't self level but it will crack. I found out that the hard way and now I have to do a couple of roof repairs over again.
    I carry of lot of baking soda. It does wonders to clean out gray tanks and P traps. It gets rid of odors and cleans up the tank sensors.
    If you want to do something really nice for your spouse, buy them a Kindle. You will become a hero.
    A Kindle makes a great gift for the road. I gave my wife one inside a leather case with a built in light. She loves it.
    Satellite receivers produce a lot of heat when in use. Unfortunately most coach cabinets that house them are poorly vented. Add a vent and better yet, add a muffin fan. You just may save yourself a lot of aggravation and not miss the big game because your receiver baked itself to death.
    Note to Self : Cell Repeaters really do work in bad cell coverage areas, except when you don't own one.
    (I need to make an online call to Amazon.com)
    Amour-all Extreme Shine Spray on Detailing works really well on painted fiberglass.
    Hang a small wind chime on your tv antenna handle. That way when you forget to lower it before you pull out of the campsite you will get an audible reminder. You just might save your antenna and your roof.
    You can learn a lot by being a member of a Motorcoaching Forum!
    A cold day in the Motorcoach sure beats a hot sweaty day working in some stuffy, dirty, overhead pulling wires.
    I am back in the Saddle again.
    Man, I sure have missed it.
  13. -Gramps-

    Remembering.

    By -Gramps-,

    Diane, Teddy Bear, and myself are doing well today. It has been a hectic and yes stressful couple of months. Today however I don't want to write about that. I will soon. Today I want to be hopeful, to remember that even during rough times there is a greater power at work. So until I can find the time to write again, I thought it would be good to reprise one of my entries, one that seems appropriate considering the significance of today.
    Derrick
    Just a few days before I had this dream that Diane, while walking Nickolas our dog, was attacked by a pit bull. It almost killed her. Maybe that event triggered the dream. Who knows, the human mind and spirit are wonderful mysteries.
    I Had a Strange Dream Last Night
    I had a strange dream last night. I was having trouble sleeping. My eyes hurt. I couldn't take the light from the clock on my stereo on top of the dresser. I finally heaved myself out of bed and moved a glass candle holder in front of that blasted blue light. Then I stumbled into the bathroom and by the faint glow of a street light coming through the curtained window, opened the medicine cabinet and struggled with a bottle of Advil. I took one with a handful of water and headed back to bed. In the short time I was gone the dog had taken my spot so I told him to move, which he grudgingly did. I crawled in next to Diane and quietly waited for the pill to take effect and help me sleep. At some point it must have worked. Maybe it worked too well.
    I found myself drifting out of my body. Slowly, I drifted about the room. I turned and saw Diane and I curled up as one, Nickolas at our feet. And then everything started to zoom out smaller and smaller until my surroundings were just a blur. I realized I was traveling somewhere at an impossible speed, but I had no idea where, but I felt no fear just a sense of patient anticipation, a strange mixture to be sure. I slowed down and began to recognize where I was, my daughter Jeri's home in Florida. I floated in place, the front of the white house illuminated by the moon. I could see the brown lizards with the blue tails, maybe the same ones I saw on my last visit, running across the walkway to her front door. I wondered how she and her husband Mark were doing, and the thought had barely entered my head when I started moving toward the door and then through it, like it was made out of strings of beads. I could feel myself pass through it; see it separate into segments around me. Once on the other side it appeared to still be solid. I floated into their bedroom, they were asleep, Jeri resting her head on Mark's shoulder. She was gently snoring. I hoped that I did not have to be concerned about them. All is peaceful here I thought.
    The room shrank and disappeared. I found myself flying to wherever again, some things around me recognizable, palm trees, street lights, buildings all blending together in stretched shades of blue and streaks of light. Soon it became so black I could see nothing around me at all. The air became warm and I could smell salt. Then I heard it. I was over the ocean. I moved out from the blackness I was in, to a stadium of stars, a carpet of luminous blue below me. Off in the distance I could see the horizon and perched on it a moving light. I drifted toward it or should I say I was moved toward it, the sea wind blowing gently around me. The lights came closer and closer and then I saw that it was a ship. Is it?....Is it?....It is! The Voyager of the Seas! No doubt about it! But why was I here? I came along the port side of the ship, drifting forward and then up to the top deck, into the bridge, always wanted to visit there, out and then down like a fast moving elevator. I found myself coming to a slow stop in the Royal Promenade. There were only a few people about, all dressed up. Tonight is obviously Formal night, I thought, and it's very late….and …hey this is the Centrum and Wow, Back up! I passed through the decks, one by one and slowed down, turned through the pastel passageway past a familiar Egyptian art display in a glass case and found myself parked, my feet (I guess I had feet) a few inches above the carpet in front of a cabin with the number 1234 on it.
    I know this cabin. Diane and I stayed here! When was it? It must have been a long time ago. I could not remember, my memory suddenly seemed fuzzy for some reason. I slowly passed though the closed door, a sensation I knew I would never get used too, and into the cabin. There was a reading light on over the bed. In the bed was a couple, I assumed they were husband and wife. The balcony curtain was open and the door was cracked, letting the very warm sea breeze blow the shears across the foot of the bed. I could hear the sea massaging the ship. On the couch was a cast off tux, white shirt and tie. A long black velvet dress was hanging neatly from the divider next to the couch. I caught the glint of one gold cuff link sitting next to a gold watch on the nightstand. I hung there and made a slow spin. On the coffee table was a glass of water, numerous bottles of pills, and a partially consumed yellow cake. It has to be their anniversary, I thought. I turned around a bit more. I could see the reflection of the room in the mirror, but the reflection did not include me. I found that a bit curious. I took a closer look at the two people. Though the room felt very warm, she looked pale and was covered up to the chin, except for one arm, with a familiar brown blanket. They looked about my age, maybe a bit younger. I noticed that their hands were clasped so tightly together that the knuckles were white, like they were holding on to each other for dear life.
    "They have been together as Man and Wife for over thirty years."
    My heart leapt in my disembodied chest. I had never heard that voice before but I recognized it at once. A tremendous feeling of peace came over me. I could not speak.
    They have? I thought.
    "Yes, and they have known each other since second grade."
    I looked at those intertwined fingers, and thought there is something wrong.
    "She's dying"
    My feeling of peace started to leave. I found my voice "Why? From what?"
    "Does it matter what?" said the voice gently.
    "No, I guess not." I said "She must be really scared."
    "She is more afraid for him than he is for her" answered the voice.
    "Why, is that? She's the one who is dying!"
    "She is afraid for him because he does not believe in me."
    And then I understood her fear, and I began to understand something else too.
    "He won't ask you to make her well will he?" I said.
    "He refuses, only because he does not know how to ask me."
    "Hasn't she asked you?"
    "She loves him so much that she only talks to me about him."
    "But she believes you can make her well doesn't she?"
    "She believes."
    "So do I."
    "Yes, I know that", said the voice.
    There was a sudden burst of lightning off in the distance. It filled the room like a reflected flash. I looked down at the woman and I could see color come into her face and lips. Her breathing became deeper and a bead of sweat broke out on her upper lip. She let go of her husband's hand sat up looked around the room and I could have sworn she looked right at me.
    "It's hot in here" she said softly.
    And then she kicked the blanket off onto the floor, rolled over on her stomach and put her arm around her husband. It started raining, the wonderful sounds and smells of one of those random little Caribbean squalls being pushed through the open balcony door by a cool breeze.
    I knew it was time to leave. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the somewhat creepy pass back through the door but in an instant my eyes were shocked back open by the sound of loud techno dance music. I was in the Vault. The place was packed. The lights were flashing. I was standing in the back part of the lounge. And I was no longer disembodied. I was wearing my single button tux, wing collared shirt, and the blue brocade vest I wore to our daughter Jeri's wedding. This was weird to say the least. Even stranger was that I knew, somewhere in the room, was a man and a woman that I was supposed to meet. I had to talk to the man first. I went upstairs to the second level bar and walked over to a young man, with a military style haircut, in his thirties most likely, who was sitting at the bar sipping a Coke.
    "Scott?"
    He turned around and gave me a somewhat puzzled look.
    "Yes…do I know you?" he asked.
    "Not exactly, but we do have a mutual friend, who told me to look you up… can I sit here and talk for a minute?"
    "Sure'' he answered. "Who told you I would …"
    Before he could finish his question I had planted myself on a bar chair and interrupted him.
    "I know you recently returned from a very tough tour of duty in Afghanistan. I know you went active from the reserves so you could go there because your sister was killed in the World Trade Center on 911. I know you are on this cruise at the suggestion of friends, who think, or hope that you will meet a, or should I say, The girl who might help bring a little joy back into your life. Am I right?"
    He looked shocked and after a pause and a swallow of his drink he answered.
    "Ah, yea, correct on all counts" he said. And then with a smile added "They told me they were praying that I would find her on this cruise."
    I looked at him hard. "If I told you that the answer to that prayer is downstairs would you let me take you to her?"
    It was now his turn to look hard at me. He did not answer.
    I sang, "Wake up….Wake up Dead Man…Our Father...He's in charge of Heaven, and He made the world in seven…
    Scott finished for me….
    "Would you put a word in… for me…?"
    A moment of silence.
    "That word has been put in. Will you let me take you to her?" I gently asked again.
    He choked out one word
    "Yes."
    "Okay, let's go"
    We walked down the glass stairs to the lower section. On the way I told him a little about Ginny, the girl that he was about to meet.
    "She likes daisies and roses. Her favorite food is seafood and she loves steamed mussels. She likes to dance swing, but she hasn't done it in quite awhile. Her favorite music group is U2. I saw the incredulous look on his face and told him it is my favorite group as well.
    "I am going to tell you one more thing and then the rest is better left up to you. Her fiancé was killed at the Pentagon."
    "On 911?" said Scott.
    "Yes."
    I led the way to a table with two attractive women sitting at it. One sat quietly in her chair, the other was more animated. It was obvious that they were sisters. Not twins but close.
    "Hello there."
    They turned around and look up at us. I took Ginny's hand and as I gently raised her out of her seat I said:
    "Ginny this is Scott. Scott this is Ginny. It has been divinely arranged for the two of you to meet on this night at this time and at this place. Now I think you two should sit down and start getting to know each other."
    Ginny looked nervously at me and then at Scott, who gave her a warm smile. She seemed to relax a bit and looked at her sister who was now on her feet as well.
    "This is my sister and I…'
    "Don't you worry about Barbara, she and I will finish this dance." I said
    I took the sister by the hand and as I led her to the dance floor I whispered to Scott
    "Walk on Scott, Walk on"
    He smiled. I am sure he got my message.
    Barbara looked at me like I was a mildly crazy person. We reached the floor just as the song Caught in a Moment finished playing (the evening was planned don't forget) I leaned close to Barbara's ear.
    "Scott is the direct answer to your very direct prayer. You have to keep this a secret; they will get married on your birthday."
    She started to cry.
    The song ended, the moment was over and I said goodbye.
    "I have to go." I said. "You, your sister, and Scott are going to have a good life; you just have to choose to live it."
    Barbara looked at me, nodded and said "Who are you? What is your name?"
    "My name is Derrick and I'm Diane's husband."
    I held one of her hands in both of mine for a moment and then walked out the door to the Centrum on deck three. I was not at all sure what to do next. Just a few minutes earlier I was practically a ghost and now I was literally standing in front of an elevator, by myself in a tuxedo with no place to go. I reached out and pushed the elevator button. It came; I stepped in, the carpet said Tuesday. When I went to bed it was Friday, and I seemed to remember that Voyager's formal nights were Monday and Thursday. Space and time were a bit off. I took the elevator to deck 5 because I wanted to walk the Royal Promenade as long as I could actually walk. The elevator opened and instead of turning right towards the Café Promenade and all its goodies (I don't know if I could have eaten one or not) I had the urge to turn left into Cleopatra's Needle. I walked in. The place was packed with people. It was Karaoke night just like the Tuesday night on my cruise. I stood out of the way in the back. I felt a little self conscious considering I was the only man in a tux, but no one seemed to notice me at all. I began to wonder if they could even see me. A couple of people sang and the order seemed very familiar. And then I heard my named called.
    "Is Derrick here?"
    I hesitated to answer; after all I was not sure I was really here or not. Before I could decide what to do a man sitting on the edge of the dance floor stood up and walked over to the host or hostess. She handed him the mike and said tell everyone your name, where you are from and why you are here.
    "Hi, my name is Derrick; I'm from Portsmouth Virginia……"
    A big cheer went up from the section to the left of the floor. I almost fell over because I stupidly realized that I was watching myself. Talk about Déjà vu. I had to sit down. As I took a chair next to an older couple I heard myself say:
    "… and I am celebrating my 30th anniversary. I would like to sing this song to my wife Diane who is sitting over there". He or I pointed to where she was sitting with her shoes off and her feet up on the chair in front of her.
    The other I then stepped towards Diane. There was a big cheer, as I remembered it; only out in the audience it was really loud. The music started, this time I was a spectator. I watched myself look at my wife and she looked back and neither looked away, even for a second.
    Most of the people around me were chatting with each other. But as the song progressed they stopped talking and started to listen, really listen…
    If I called you every time that I think of you…the phone would be ringing, all day.
    I keep thinking these feelings will mellow with time but not yet, no way. We've had our share of heartache and trouble, we can look back and laugh at it now, but a mystery keeps haunting me, how we hurt those we love most somehow, somehow.
    A real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you-I just never say it enough, and before it's too late and time's up; you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above. But I just never say it enough.
    I believe God inhabits the human heart. I believe it more now than ever before and I see His reflection in You, in You, and I'm sure, yes I'm sure.. that a real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you- I just never say it enough…so before it's too late and time's up, you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above.
    Some of the women started to cry, some of the men too. I had no idea that the song had that much impact and then I realized my face was wet also.
    But I just never say it enough. I just never say it; I just never say it enough. Nooo, I just never say it, I just never say it enough. Noooo… oh…. oh."
    I finished the song, the crowd all came to their feet and cheered, and it was loud. I watched myself put the mike back on the stand, take a little bow and run over and kiss Diane. I knew she was crying also.
    The hostess then told the audience that I was not part of the competition; I just wanted to sing something special for my wife and she hoped that after thirty years that they would be as much in love as Derrick and Diane.
    It was very strange. I wanted to soak up the moment from this perspective but I could not help but notice the older couple sitting next to me.
    The man looked familiar and then I remembered that Diane and I met him on the pier in San Juan. We were both on the Explorer and he told me he was a retired Israeli fighter pilot. He had served during the Six Day War.
    During the song the woman, who must be his wife, took his hand and stroked it. At first he did not seem to respond. But now, he twisted his seat around so that he could look directly at her.
    "I'm sorry, so sorry. I should not have gotten so mad at her. But what could I do? Now she is gone and I am dying inside. I have hurt you so much. How will we be able to look back at this? How will we be able to smile again, how can I laugh again?"
    The wife looked at him.
    "I don't know how, but we will, the song says so, somehow with God's help, we will."
    They both looked so unhappy and full of sorrow. I had a feeling that they had lost someone very close to them
    "Tell them that Sarah is with me"
    The voice startled me.
    "Derrick, tell them that their grand daughter Sarah is with me and that she is fine."
    I had to do what He said. I moved over in front of them and went down on one knee.
    "Hello, my name is Derrick…"
    They both looked at me and then looked again and then both of them looked at the couple sitting on the edge of the dance floor, the man, me, with his arm around his wife.
    I hoped that they were not about to scream or pass out or both.
    The man was speechless the woman finally spoke.
    "How can you be here and there…"
    I put my finger on my lips.
    "Shh, that is not so easy to explain. Besides I have something very important to tell you.
    Your grand daughter Sarah is in heaven, she is doing fine, and loves you both very much"
    They both stared at me for a long, long second and then the man took my arm.
    Tears ran slowly down his cheek as he told me that he had argued with Sarah about the man she planned to marry.
    "I did not approve of him at all. I did not like his family. They are not of our faith. Sarah said he is a good man, an honorable man who loves God and her. I became very angry and told her that she was as good as dead to me if she married this man."
    He had to pause. I waited.
    "She did not get the chance to marry him.. She died, at the hand of a terrorist. She was attending a birthday party for one of his friends and it was bombed. She was with him. He barley survived. I blamed him for her death. . I was a fool."
    His wife smiled gently
    "Yes you were" she said.
    "What should I do know?" he asked.
    "Love your wife, have peace, and ask the man that was to be Sarah's husband to forgive you. And be his friend. Be the Grandfather in law that you would have been. That is what you should do."
    "I think I can do that."
    I stood up, they stood with me and I embraced them both.
    "God be with you "
    "And you" he answered.
    I turned and walked out of the lounge and into the Royal Promenade. I slowly walked the length of the ship looking up at the windows of the cabins and into the shops. I thought about my time on this ship. When I was here I was relaxed. I trusted the captain and the crew to look after me and my wife. I knew that the ship and its' crew would provide everything we needed and then some. I never had the thought of telling the captain that I wanted to be in charge of my trip, that I wanted to pilot the ship because I did not like where it was going or because it was not getting there fast enough. I put my wife and my life in his hands so to speak. Should I not put the same trust into the Captain of the greatest voyage of all, the voyage called Life?
    I wanted to see the ocean so I went through the glass sliding door out to the deck. I walked over to the railing and I put my hands down on nothing. I found myself passing through the railing and out into the open air the ship slowly moving away from me. I was not worried. I must be going home.
    I floated there for a long time, the ship moving farther and farther away until once again it was just a few lights on the horizon. I looked at the millions of stars above me and the luminous blue below. And then everything became a blur again.
    I flew quickly toward home, soundlessly. I began to slow and soon I recognized the lights of my town. I have seen them from the air many times. But something seemed different; things were missing and others out of place. I drifted down to an empty downtown street. Not a soul about. Now I knew something was not right. The brand new fifteen story hotel was missing. A completed condo now looked half built. I realized that I was looking at Portsmouth some years earlier. I was not concerned, not after what had taken place the last few hours or minutes or days.
    Slowly I floated down street after street until I came to a hospital. I drifted through the front door. There were only a few people about. This had to be the past because this hospital had been closed for years. It was obvious that no one could see me. I continued up through the ceiling and found myself in the maternity ward. It was very quiet, most of the lights turned off. As I passed by an open door I could hear the sound of a new mother singing to her new baby. I moved down the hall through a partially opened door into a room. Lying on the bed was a young man, a lot younger than me anyway. His hands covered his face and it sounded like he was talking to himself, no he's praying. He had on jeans and sneakers and a gray Swatch watch just like an old watch that I own. He dropped his hands for a moment and then I knew exactly where I was and when. It was eighteen years ago, the night that my son was born; the night that he was so sick and my wife almost died. I knew she was in recovery from emergency surgery and my son was in the neonatal unit of the hospital. The man lying on the bed was me.
    For the first time during this strange trip of mine, I felt fear. The same fear and near panic I felt that May night eighteen years ago, the fear that I would loose two people. I did not want to experience that kind of fear again. I wondered why I was here.
    "You are here to tell him everything will be fine." said the voice. "You are here to tell him not to fear. That I have heard him and his family will be well."
    "How do I tell him or me? Can I see me? I mean I think I would have remembered if I met myself that night. I would have had a heart attack or something"
    I was sure I spoke out loud and it I could see that the younger me did not hear a thing.
    "Whisper to his heart and to his mind, he will hear you."
    "Lord, I don't understand, can't you do that? Why do you need me?"
    "Derrick you know the future, you know that it turned out fine, you can speak with complete confidence and the younger you needs to learn that when I speak to people, I do so quietly to their hearts and minds, and with the sound of their own voice. I don't set bushes on fire anymore. I don't write on walls. I simply give peace, a peace that is hard to understand but is very real… so speak for me."
    I did not know what else to do but move close to my own ear.
    "It's okay. Joel is fine, relax, get up and go see him. And then go to Diane and tell her that your son is doing well."
    The face of the me on the bed no longer looked strained and worried. He stretched, got up, took a sip of water from a glass on the bed tray and then left the room. I followed and watched him go into the nursery where his son, his little body full of tubes, lay in an incubator. He reached in and rubbed the little boy's back.
    I knew that Diane was just down the hall. She lay there in a morphine induced sleep. I knew she would be okay. There was only one thing that I wanted to do now.
    "Can I go home?"
    There was a very quick blur and I guess at the speed of thought, I found myself back in my bed with my feet solidly under the dog, my wife, with her bandaged ankle and arm lying exactly where I had left her, curled right next to me.
    "Where did you go?" My wife asked sleepily.
    "Honey, I have been lying here the whole night, except when I got up to get an Advil"
    "Oh, you were gone so long. I'm glad you're back."
    "Me too, go back to sleep."
    The dog yawned, I yawned and I thought about this cruise we are on. This cruise called Life. I know the captain. No need to worry.
    Derrick
  14. -Gramps-
    We have been sitting on lot #3 at the Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort (The one in Galax, Virginia) for about 18 days now, give or take a day. For most of the last five it has been raining hard. If there was ever any question about how well our coach roof is sealed, we now have the answer ... it is definitely waterproof. I performed maintenance on it just before the monsoon arrived.
    I washed it, resealed some of the seams with self-leveling Dicor sealant, the kind that needs a caulk gun to apply, and repaired some holes and rips in the slideout toppers. I also spray painted the chassis rails with black rust killing paint. That operation was more for cosmetics than anything else.
    This visit to Deer Creek has been a bit of a strange one. It started out with the promise of sunshine, golf and walks in the woods. Two days after our arrival, tragedy came. It forced us to change our plans and make new ones. Diane flew to Florida from Greensboro, North Carolina, on May 4. She returned on Mother's Day. Teddy Bear and I met her at the airport. It was clear from her expression that it had been a rough trip. The flight was okay; it was the event itself that was so tough to go through. Watching your grandson be born only to see him die a few hours later is not something that I personally want to be a witness to. I suffered the loss from the comfort of my coach, surrounded by God's countryside and with friends close by. Diane was right there with our daughter and husband. There are no adequate words to express the sadness that fell over all of us, but for those in the hospital it was such a deep emotional experience that it drained some of the life out of them.
    Now comes the questions, most of which have no answers, or maybe they have the same answer and that is, "We can't know why some things happen, just trust that the Lord is in charge." What else can be said when it comes to the death of a newborn baby? What else can be said when a pregnancy goes wrong and forces a child that can't survive to be born early? It seems like a simple, almost-cliche answer, but it is the only one that will allow the one asking it to have any peace. "Just trust the Lord."
    Now we are trying to get on with our lives. Diane lost a week, so to speak, here at Deer Creek, so we added another one. That would have been fine if it wasn't for the fact it has rained and rained and then rained some more. We have managed to make a quick trip to Mt. Airy for some walking and shopping. We did have a picnic up on the Blue Ridge Parkway and hike one of our favorite trails. I lost a camera lens hood during that trip. I dropped it in a swift flowing creek and it disappeared downstream before I could get to it. Normally, losing an expensive camera accessory, which has happened a couple of times over the years, would bother me to no end, but this time it annoyed me for only a few minutes.
    Now I am just sitting here in the coach, looking out the bedroom window at the dark clouds still hanging over our heads. I am asking God to move them on, blow them away, the clouds in the sky and the ones in my heart. Pour on the Sunshine because we need to know that sunny warm days still are possible. They are, of course. Everything passes and most of the time it gets better. It takes just that ... time.
    Family helps.
    My Mom and Dad drove up from Lexington for one day. We took a trip north on the Parkway to a quaint little place called Fancy Gap. We ate sandwhiches a a great little deli ... the Gap Deli, as a matter of fact. Then we went shopping at a gift/garden center. I bought a large concrete Wren for one of our flower beds. Diane bought a hand painted weathered board from a barn. It has flowers and Welcome painted on it. We later added the number 3 to it. After visiting the gift shop we went to a clothing outlet. Both Mom and Diane found something really nice but still really cheap or should I say low priced.
    We drove back to Deer Creek in a hugh downpour.
    Friends help.
    The day after Diane left for Florida, Gordy and Bill, two of my fellow owners and neighbors, convinced me to go golfing at Gordy's club. I didn't feel much like it but Diane told me to listen to them and go. I played with some distraction but the fellowship was really good.
    While Diane was away I attended a Derby Day Party and Fish Fry at our clubhouse. I provided a large salad made of white and red grapes, blue cheese crumbles, walnuts, red cabbage and romaine lettuce. I dressed it with a home made fresh vinaigrette made from fresh lemon juice, chives and light olive oil. It contained no vinegar so maybe it should have been called a lemongrette.
    I bet on the favorite horse "Dialed In" to win but I lost a buck to the person who bet on "Animal Kingdom" the 34 to one long shot. Good thing I didn't have to pay out according to the odds.
    Keeping busy helps.
    I extended the the Wi-Fi to the back of the resort. It wasn't that hard to do.
    I installed a wireless repeater. Due to the rain I have not permanently mounted it. Hopefully I can do that before the week is out.
    There are plenty of ways to keep busy when owning a motor coach.
    I washed the coach last week.
    I have washing and waxing the coach down to a science.
    I use Blue Coral concentrated car wash and a deck brush on the roof of my coach. It is a stronger detergent based cleaner and has brighteners in it. It does a great job of cleaning a white fiber glass roof and will remove stains from chalking and rubber really well when applied at full strength. It will steak the side of the coach so always wash the roof first. Don't wash it at all unless prepared to clean the whole coach.
    For washing the coach I use the Mr Clean Pro system. It is no longer in production which keeps me from buying the filters and the special cleaner for the system. They might be available online but I don't feel like going to the trouble of buying that way. After some experimenting I found easily available substitutes for the water filter and the cleaner. I use an inline water filter readily available at Wal-Mart and for the cleaner I found that Armour All Extreme Shine car wash, the orange stuff, and a long handled soft bristle brush works very well.
    I prefer to use Protect All when waxing the coach. Unfortunately, it is not as easy to get as it used to be. Wal-Mart's RV section has shrunk to almost nothing over the last few years and they had the best price. Now they don't carry it at all. The next best thing is once again an Armour All product....Extreme Shine Detailing Spray. It is made with Carnuba wax, sprays on easily and wipes right off. Just like Protect-All it can be used on all surfaces including chrome, clear coat, rubber and glass.
    I removed the non working wet bay heater. I directly connected it to my chassis battery and discovered that the heater functions fine. I still have a problem. I spent one day cleaning the inside of the coach which included repairing my wife's Dyson vacuum cleaner. I repaired a rattling bedroom speaker. Just a bit of Elmer's glue around the copper braided wires that pass through the paper cone of the speaker stopped the noise. I purchased an old fashioned foot edger. That tool and a bit of foot work improved the looks of pad #3 It now has a nice clean edge, full of standing water, all the way around.
    Writing helps.
    I wrote a letter to my grandson. I can't reread it without crying, but it still helped to write it.
    I am writing now and it feels pretty good to be doing so.
    Reading helps.
    After delivering Diane to the Airport, I purchased a book in a gift shop/bookstore. It is "The Art of Racing in the Rain." It is the sad and happy story of the life of a dog written from his point of view. That is an idea not foreign to me at all....
    I finished reading it in one day. The same day Daniel was born and died.
    The book made me think that it is just possible that my grandson is playing catch on some beautiful piece of very green grass somewhere with Nickolas my dog.
    I will be with them one day.
    For now, I will enjoy being with Diane, my kids and grandsons, Teddy Bear, and my friends.
    I will also keep busy until one day gets here.
  15. -Gramps-

    Daniel

    By -Gramps-,

    I have enjoyed being part of the motor home community. It means a lot to me. More than I can possible say. At this moment I am at Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort in Galax. It has been my refuge for the last few days. I am surrounded by my friends and I have needed them and they have been here for me. Yesterday I lost one of my grandsons. I never got the chance to meet him. Diane had to fly down to Florida to be with our daughter and her husband after we learned that her unborn baby boy who was going to be with us in just a few weeks was not going to be with us for long. I couldn't go with her and so I have been leaning on the community here and hugging the dog. I guess it has been Teddy's job to wash away my tears...and there has been a lot of them.
    As usual when I and my family are going thru a tough and emotional time I pray and I write........
    Daniel, my dear grandson:
    You were with us for such a short time today and then you were gone. Your life was a sunset, here for a moment and then no more. Now your Mother, Father and Grandparents are left with memories of what we hoped you would bring to our lives. We looked forward to hearing you laugh, seeing you smile, holding you in our arms.
    You are loved by your Mom and Dad and your brother and the rest of your family. I hope you know that.
    The Bible tells us that you are wonderfully made, designed by God Himself. The book of Psalms says that God knew you before he placed you in your mother's womb. You must be something really special for God to change His mind and take you back to be with Him. I know you are special. You were so small and only hours old when you had to leave us. But I promise you, you have already done what only a child of loving parents can do. You have brought your Mom and Dad closer together. You have made them love your big brother all the more. You have made us all draw closer to God.
    There is a time to be born, a time to die, a time to laugh and a time to be sad and a time to morn. Only God knows why the time between those things is short or long.
    Daniel don't be sad for us, don't morn for us, we will survive.
    Daniel, I want you to laugh!
    I want you to shout for joy because you are with your Heavenly Father!
    There is one more thing I want you to do. When Jesus comes to your room, and I know you have one, because the Bible says so, and he offers you His hand to hold and says, "Let's take a walk," go with Him.
    When He shows you all the wonderful Heavenly things He has made including the planets and the stars, remember that all of us, your Mom and Dad, your brother, and your grandparents will be looking at them too. Daniel, we will be thinking of you and looking forward to the day that we can take that walk together.
    With all my love,
    Your Grandfather.
    In Memory of Daniel Thomas Wheeler
    Born 5/4/2011 Died 5/4/2011
    .
  16. -Gramps-

    The Tango

    By -Gramps-,

    Before Diane and I became Motorhome owners, and before my son entered college, we were avid cruisers. This is the story of our first one, which took place a bunch of years ago. This story, which I wrote years ago, will take up some blog space until next week when we shall once again hit the road in our UFO and I write about it.
    THE TANGO
    My wife Diane is always collecting stories and anecdotes from people. For years if she hears something interesting from somebody she will tell me about it. She will cut things out of the newspaper or a magazine and stick it on the refrigerator door for me to find. She also reads me e-mail. Just the other day she found a piece of mail that her cousin Elaine sent her months ago. Somehow it ended up in some pc desktop folder somewhere and she overlooked it. She found it just the other day, the same day she was told that her mother has Alzheimer's Disease.
    God woke a man during the middle of the night and told him that he would find a very large rock in his front yard. God told the man to get up and push it. The man wanted to do what God told him so he went outside and started pushing the rock. He pushed with his hands, his back and with his legs. He gave it everything he had but the rock would not move, not one little bit. For hours everyday he would push it.
    One night while lying in bed, exhausted from all the pushing, the devil came to him and said, "Why do you bother, you have not moved that rock at all. You are nothing but a failure."
    The man thought about this and complained to God. "Hey God what about it? I have pushed that rock for months now and it still sits there! Why tell me to move it when I can't?"
    God answered, "I never said anything about moving the rock, I told you just to push it. You can't move the rock. Only I can move it ... but now your legs are stronger, your back is stronger, your hands are tough and calloused …now you are no longer weak."
    My wife is strong. For years the rock that she pushed looked a lot like my head. We have been through some tough times, many of them Derrick-inflicted. I choose to be driven by a need to be successful in business (so driven that I took our savings and put them into a cash bleeding business without telling her) as opposed to being successful as a husband and father. But Diane keep pushing. One night God moved the rock.
    In May 1985, Diane spent four weeks in the hospital pregnant with our son Joel. She developed acute toxemia along with high blood pressure and spent most of those four weeks laying on her right side with the rails up on her bed and just over her head, a tongue depressor taped to the wall. At the end of three weeks Joel was delivered early by Caesarian section. He entered into this world with a very bad set of lungs. After delivery Diane's blood pressure shot up so high, it put her on the edge of a stroke. I could have lost them both.
    God took the rock from her and put it in my court, so to speak. In the span of one night I started to remember what was most important in my life, Diane and my kids. That night, I did a lot of pushing, or should I say praying? My son, who is now a champion cross-country runner, and my wife recovered. I started to recover but it took a while. I sold the business two years later; it also took me awhile to realize it was not much of a loss.
    So, Diane and I continued our cruise called life together, and this day found ourselves on this nice white ship ....
    We played a few more games of shuffleboard. She approaches the game with a lot of patience and moves the puck gracefully to the end of the court. Me, I slam the thing like Osama himself is my opponent and I want to tear his toes off, thus the phrase 10 OFF. "Not so hard" she says, hopping around on her left foot after failing to yield to a flying red disk. "For Pete's sake, it's only a game not a missile launching," So we went to the game room and tried our hand at Scrabble, where this time she beat the pants off me.
    Later that afternoon we went poolside to catch a few rays and a few hamburgers and check out a snorkeling demonstration. We planned to snorkel on our own at Playa Del Carmen the next day and at Cozumel with a group (including our tablemates Blair and Larry) the day after that. We hung around the pool for awhile, watched a few guys shoot skeet. Some of the shooters were a bit Coronafied so the clay pigeons were in no real danger. "Pull!" BANG! "**** I missed!" was often heard as the afternoon progressed. I was surprised to see how tall and how many drinks were being served. I was also surprised that the pool was full of saltwater.
    We did not stay around the pool too long. Diane "convinced" me that we would have fun taking a ballroom dance lesson in the Disco. I knew how to dance, well I could move anyway and do whatever it was that we did in the early 70's that we called dancing. We headed back to our cabin, grabbed a quick spritz, you could hardly call that thing a shower, changed and headed up to the Disco.
    We were the first potential students in the disco. There was a small couple there that looked to be quite a bit older than Diane and I. The woman was arranging chairs around the small dance floor and the man (who I couldn't help noticing was wearing a bad toupee) was setting up a portable record player on a table. We said hello and found them to be very animated and friendly. We made introductions all around. Their names were Lenny and Thelma. More people arrived so Lenny and Thelma suggested that to get things rolling they would demonstrate the dance that they were about to teach. Lenny started the record player and over the first few recognizable notes of the music announced in dramatic fashion that we were, in one lesson, going to become masters of "THE TANGO"….. Oh boy. It begins like this; the Man steps forward, woman steps backward.
    I watch them carefully. They seemed to know the proper steps but something seemed wrong. It did not look exactly like any Tango I had seen done on TV or in the movies, but of course that is not real life. We were on a cruise ship, which is closer to real life… right? STEP,STEP,STEP,,,SLIDE.,, STEP,STEP,STEP,SLIDE…I whispered to Diane that it looked like they were trying not to step in something nasty, getting in it anyway and then wiping their feet on the floor trying to get it off.. She told me to shut up. STEP, STEP, STEP, SLIDE, STEP, STEP,,DIP. Thelma received a halfhearted backwards bend from her partner. I think Lenny was afraid that if he bent over too far his toupee would end up on her nose. I thought to myself do I really want to learn this? "Yes you are going to do this with me" I forgot that Diane reads half empty minds. Out on the floor we went.
    Some frustrated minutes and bruised toes later we finished our lesson. It was my opinion, that trying to learn the Tango as one's first attempt at ballroom dancing coupled with the fact that the dance floor moved on its own every now then seemed a bit hard if not downright silly.
    Diane loved it, so it is just possible that my opinion was all wet.
    We finished our lesson, gave our thanks to our instructors and headed off to afternoon tea. Now that was something that I could handle without a lesson.
    Afternoon tea was great, lots of horse-d-ovaries, canapés and things like that. Dinner was only two and half hours away so Diane nibbled. I stuffed myself. Afterwards we strolled below to our cabin to get dressed for the first formal night.
    Diane wore a very attractive light blue and pink silk dress with a simple string of pearls and flat shoes. I put on my best suit, (it happened to be kaki colored) white shirt, tie and leather soled shoes. It did not take us long to change so we had some time to kill before dinner. Diane suggested we go up to the ballroom and practice what we had learned at our Tango lesson….oh boy. Sure why not. She smiled and headed up the stairs. I head down, reluctantly followed.
    Well, folks I tried, I really did. We must have been working at it for about thirty minutes
    when I did it, I creamed Diane's left foot. I mortally wounded those perfect little toes of hers. At the moment of impact tears came to all our eyes. "Oooooowwwww!"
    Off came her shoe and she limped to the nearest chair and set down hard. I expected her to heave her shoe at my head but she held on to it and her temper.
    I was just about to make an emphatic apology when I heard a male voice behind me say "Could you use some help?" I turned around to see a handsome older couple standing by the edge of the dance floor. He was a tall man wearing an obviously custom made tuxedo with a hand tied (at the moment untied) tie and she, much shorter than him, was wearing gold lame' evening slacks with an elegant orange blouse and matching fingernail polish. He reminded me of Tony Bennett and she looked like Janet Leigh, the way she looked in 1987. I don't remember their names so I will Call them Tony and Janet.
    Diane, who by this time was worried that I might turn her toes into something that resembled Vienna Sausages, of course said "Yes, we would appreciate any help you can give us." She never asked what kind of help he was offering. We introduced ourselves.
    "I see you must have taken Lenny's Tango lesson today." I nodded yes. Tony continued. "Well, Lenny is a very nice man"
    "His hair isn't" Janet interjected. Tony smiled, so did I
    "As I was saying, Lenny and Thelma are very nice people, but they have no business giving dance lessons. For some reason Lenny thinks he can, and the captain lets him because he cruises on this ship about sixteen times a year. He practically lives here….anyway, let Janet and I show you how the Tango should be done."
    He took her by the hand and the waist, and immediately she seemed to grow a foot taller. He stepped forward, no change that, he glided forward she moved back and across the floor they moved like mercury. No music, not a sound except the smooth rustling of their clothes. They moved as one, smooth and fluid …..one two three, one two three
    This is how to dance the tango!
    Feel the blood rise to your face
    with every beat;
    while an arm winds like a snake
    around a waist that is about to break.
    This is how to dance the tango
    and I swore their feet never came off the floor, like they were ice skating. I was amazed.
    Somewhere I read that the Tango has beat, impact and nuances. It is not a soft wave turned into music, it is the deepest dance in the world.
    Tony and Janet walked over to us. '' Now we show you" Tony took Diane by the waist and Janet took my hand and said….
    "The Tango is a dance of seduction. The man must lead, he must lead forcefully, he steps forward the woman steps backward, and you move like water across the floor. And you move as one okay?. Now take my waist and lead me. No do not look at your feet. You cannot seduce a woman by looking at her feet, you must look her deep in the eyes, again!….good, good now you are catching on''
    I thought I must have been terrible. Tony said "you know Janet and I watched you too dancing last night, you are very good together even when doing it wrong. You should take lessons. Well, we enjoyed it. Derrick, we will see you on the dance floor tonight eh?"
    I nodded yes. "Good, I may ask to dance with your beautiful wife again."
    The announcement came over that Main Seating was now being served.
    I had completely forgotten about dinner. Can you believe that?
    Now you may have noticed that this story seemed to be missing a beggining. That is so. Therefore before I tell you more about the Tango let me start from the very beginning. Originally it was written for a cruise blog and took days. You get the pleasure of reading it all at once!
    The Railing
    I am writing this while on hold with the Virginia Dept of Taxation in order to stop collections proceedings for a business tax bill that I have already paid and the check has cleared the bank. This is something that I have to do at least once a year. I keep hearing the same hold announcements over and over again along with Grazing in the Grass. It is in moments of stress like these that I imagine myself back on the deck of a cruise ship.
    In October of 1987, to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary, my wife Diane and I went on our first cruise. It was a present from her father and it could not have come at a better time. For the previous four years I ran a start up telecommunications company that I was part owner of. In spite of, or because of, the fact that I gave it fifteen hours out of most days, I was not able to get it off the ground. So in June of that year my partners decided to sell it. I went to work for the very old, and very well set in their ways, family owned company that bought it. My going to work for them was part of the purchase agreement. The transition from boss to upper level manager was a little rough so I needed a vacation even if I didn't think so myself.
    We gave a lot thought to the cruise in the days leading up to it. Planning as a WE is one of the best consequences of cruising. What documents do we bring. What do we wear. What excursions do we take. We had not been a We in a while. We is good.
    The first day was a long one. The flight to Miami was fun, the embarkation was fun. Watching the other cruise ships leave with ours was fun. Our ship was the Chandris Galileo. She was a 28,000 ton dazzling white beauty with a big blue X on her stack.
    We found our little orange carpeted cabin with the RV like bathroom, explored the ship, held hands, more than we had in years, had an unbelievable dinner, went dancing, went to bed. I was beginning to feel like a new man. After Diane went to sleep I went up on deck for a solitary stroll. I walked aft to a part of the Promenade deck that jutted out over the sea. I turned around and faced forward. Completely alone, I could see down the whole length of the ship. The sky was full of stars. The ocean was a luminous deep blue. In the distance was the lighted outline of our companion cruise ships. The only sound was a divine mixture of the wind, the sea, and the thrum of the ship. I held on to the cool smooth mahogany, closed my eyes and just stood there with the warm 18 knot wind in my face. I remembered something. A verse. "He leadeth me beside still waters. He restoreth my soul."
    I could taste salt. It may have been the spray or it might have been tears. Maybe a bit of both.
    Night and Greek Sunrise
    I did not sleep much that night. A more accurate way of phrasing it would be I stayed awake well that night. I crawled back into bed with Diane, which was a tight fit since we were sharing a single bed. (Our cabin had an upper berth and two lower beds but I never asked if they could be converted into one.) I laid there, while gently rocking, listening to the sounds around me. Our outside cabin was on the lowest passenger deck and as a result the sound of the ocean was quite strong. There was also a regular creak like a rocking chair accompanied by a clicking noise as the ship moved back and forth then up and down. Creak click, creak, click. In the pale light from our large porthole I could see that the bathroom door latch was a bit loose. ( If I left the door open it would inform us just how much the ship was listing). The motion, the ocean, the creak, muffled steps down the corridor, my wife's baby like snoring, all told me that the ship was alive and breathing. It was one of the most peaceful nights of my adult life.
    Sometime before the first gray-blue light of morning I was jostled awake by a very attractive Greek woman rolling across me on her way out of our bed. I awoke to the pleasant sight of Diane in her Adam and Eve nightgown falling to the cabin floor with one brown barefoot trapped in the corner of the blanket. She gave her tootsies a liberating yank, at the same time informing me that we had a dawn to catch. Seeing the dawn was not the first thing on my activity list and I raised an inquiring eyebrow. She was literally hopping into her shorts, at the same time telling me No!, we are going to see the dawn, get dressed! Not being completely stupid I obeyed and then grabbed my Minolta.
    I watched Diane's backside (couldn't help myself) as we headed up to the Lido Deck or the Promenade Deck, or the Captain's Deck, one of those decks just in time to see a very distant dark white cloud show the first sign of a new paint job. I steadied my camera on the rail and did not have a long wait for God to put on a very good light show. It was glorious. I happened to look to me left and in the distance an ever enlarging Island was exhibiting its own amazing color changes. The Island of Key West seemed to be sailing toward us at the same time we were moving toward it. I looked at the Sunrise shining on my Greek Girl's smiling face. There was only one thing to say
    What's for Breakfast?!
    The Promenade Deck (sit down and eat your prunes)
    "Sir, breakfast in now being served for first seating in the dining room and the breakfast buffet is on the Promenade Deck."
    I turned around and there was a young lady in white shorts and a yellow shirt with a Staff badge on that said Juli no e. I thanked her.
    Breakfast on the Promenade Deck. Made me feel special. The Promenade Deck. The Lido Deck. The Captain's Deck. The MAIN Deck. All these names have a certain old fashioned charm and romantic quality about them. They remind me of the days before the big war (I wasn't there) or even earlier when gigantic 45,000 to 75,000 ton cruise ships crossed the Big Pond on a regular basis. The Mauritania, The Queen Mary, The France, the United States (for years she was dejectedly docked close to my home, Her once magnificent red stacks peeling sheets of paint. It was hard to keep my eyes off her as I made my morning commute). The United States and the others were iron ships with hearts made of brass, mahogany and teak. In those days three types of people sailed on cruises. First Class, Second Class, and Human Baggage. But all were excited at the first shout of "AMERICA". I love those deck names. I missed them when Diane and I were on Explorer of the Seas. I know they can be confusing. One of the comments I heard most often on the Carnival Sensation was "I don't know why I have to go Down to get to the Upper Deck!" Half the time I could not remember where our cabin, M44, was. I now know M stands for Main, I thought it meant Mine. Just kidding. But I digress.
    We ran down the stairs (in true maritime stairs are called ladders) one deck. We ran like we were kids trying to pass each other. We skidded up to the buffet and came to a shocked stop. I had never seen anything like it in my life. There was this huge white cloth covered table on the bleached wooden deck of this white ship with the brightest blue sea in the background covered with more breakfast food than any 50 teenage boys could possible eat. And the things they did with watermelons. They were carved in the shape of a grinning Indian with an eagle feather in his hair, a coiled snake, a woven basked with a handle, all done in one piece, and a huge vase of watermelon roses. Diane immediately said "Don't touch anything" She knows me. There were five or six members of the kitchen staff in their white coats and stiff Chef hats standing at attention behind the table, with its stacks of china plates, bowls, cups and saucers, all monogrammed with a gold X in the middle of a gold sunburst . The Chefs had omelet pans, tongs, and carving knifes drawn like sabers to fight off the evil of an empty stomach. Sausage, salmon, bagels, kiwi fruit, (I had no idea what that hairy little thing was) pomegranates, bananas, polenta, white fish, herring, olives (at least 10 kinds) French fries, home fries, hash browns, iced wine buckets with all kinds of juices including pomegranate juice, (for Gods sake how many seeds did that take), Mimosas (I still like those) and the pastries, they were piled up in a basket 3 foot high. Also Eggs Benedicts, Waffles, Inch thick French toast with powdered sugar, and scrambled eggs. I dug in.
    I had some kind of I can't believe all this spasm and jostled a little elderly lady's elbow in line in front of me. She was balancing a heavy china plate on which set a matching bowl full of stewed prunes.
    "Sorry," I said "can you believe all this food, and look at the watermelons, and..and that ship it's made of ice. I'll be damned.!"
    The little lady, prune bowl skating madly on her plate, craned her neck and squinting in the morning light looked up at me.
    "Young man I suggest you sit down and eat Your prunes! And I would like to eat mine!"
    She seemed upset so I didn't want to tell her that I hated prunes.
    Diane said she thought I should do what the lady suggested.
    "But I don't like prunes."
    Now we all know that the food on cruises is included but when your are married to someone who is very careful with money, clips coupons, and has three small kids, a husband that is six foot tall and weighs 140 pounds because he has the metabolic rate of a blast furnace, the next line in this story should come as no surprise
    "Then you shouldn't take what you're not going to eat."
    I looked at my plate, on it was a lot of stuff including smoked salmon ,olives, cream cheese, ham, those hairy brown things, a mound of scrambled eggs, which made the perfect nest for a large number of stewed prunes.
    I guess I should have paid more attention.
    Scrambled eggs
    We sat down at a table next to the railing. The sun was so bright and so hot and felt so good. Two happy people, to huge plates of food, two large wet glasses of iced orange juice glistening in the sun. As part of a pre cruise plan we deliberately ate slowly.
    "Enjoying your eggs?" Diane asked.
    Being to polite to answer with my mouth full, I gave her a grateful nod.
    "Good" She leaned closer for emphasis. "Eat it all, Stick Man."
    This was not a reference to the philosophical comment she made earlier about my prunes (at the moment sunbathing on the extreme edge of my plate) No, this comment was a not so veiled reference to a part of the same pre cruise plan. A plan she hatched on the plane down to Miami.
    We were in our seats admiring our new sneakers. (buying new sneakers, preferably Reeboks because we are stockholders, has become one of our pre cruise traditions . We buy them weeks before and don't wear them until the first day of the cruise. It's good to have a fresh set of tires when you plan to put a lot of quick miles on them}. Diane leaned over for emphasis of course and said "We need to fatten you up, we also need to relax so the plan is: rest a lot, read a lot, eat a lot, enjoy it, don't inhale it." Yes Dear. I was too thin. While running "the business" I found most meals to be inconvenient unless they were business related. I skipped breakfast, ate lunch at my desk, and most nights I arrived home so late that I had to eat alone or not at all. I more times than not, choose not at all. I had earned Diane's nickname for me "Stick Man". I was fortunate that she was still sticking with me. I owe her a lot including the fact that I can enjoy scrambled eggs.
    Before marrying Diane I hated them. My brother and I liked fried eggs. My mom did not like to cook. My dad did. My mom had to cook when Dad was out at sea. She could manage a few things, She made a mean fried chicken, fried hamburgers, fried green tomatoes, fried bacon, fried eggs. She fixed eggs the way her father liked them. Over Very Easy in bacon grease. Not bad actually, with home fries, and hot coffee sipped from a saucer. My grandfather obviously knew about heat displacement relative to surface area. This was a good cooling technique but I would not suggest using it in the My Fair Lady Dining Room.
    Back to my Mom and her eggs. . If the yolk broke the egg was no good and deserved to be punished. Attack it viciously with a fork and scramble it to death! Waste Nothing! Serve its confused and stringy remains to the boys, they will live! I had a hyper active adolescent gag reflex. Breakfast could get very ugly. Mom could get very mad. You get the picture.
    On October 9 1972 a Monday Morning that will live in infamy Diane my new bride who I loved very much was standing in our rented orange kitchen fixing scrambled eggs for her new hubby's breakfast. She called me and I came down the stairs to find this beautiful long legged Greek Girl with raven black hair that she could sit on trying to poison me. I had two choices I could refuse to eat this and risk a divorce or eat it and risk death. I chose death.
    She stood there in her baby dolls with this look on her face that only a woman can get when she has just fixed her man, now her new husband, his first meal (or his last).
    "Isn't this nice." I said.
    They did look edible, fluffy and yellow with what's this? Onions and green peppers and no bacon grease dripping from my fork. Oh well, life is an adventure and then you die.
    I took a small bite, and then a very big bite. I'm Alive! I'm Alive! Thank God almighty my wife can cook!
    THE TWO KEYS
    I am sitting at my quickly becoming obsolete computer (hey as long as it works for me) listening to Diana Krall. She is singing a good song that goes with this rambling, review- memoir, thing that I'm writing.
    How Deep is the Ocean (How High is the Sky)
    How much do I love you?
    I'll tell you no lie.
    How deep is the ocean?
    How high is the sky?
    How many times a day
    Do I think of you?
    How many roses are sprinkled with dew?
    How far would I travel
    just to be where you are?
    How far is the journey
    from here to a star?
    And if I ever lost you
    how much would I cry?
    How deep is the ocean?
    How high is the sky?
    Diane has taught me one of the keys to enjoying life and it works for cruising as well. Just roll with it. Don't be afraid to try something new (ESCARGO), don't let a past unpleasantness (refer to above egg discription) dictate your future attitude. Believe me. we have had to practice this mantra on more than one occasion. (story may follow at some point)
    There was no unpleasantness on this trip; we just let the Good Times Roll.
    We finished breakfast and began wandering around the outside of the ship waiting for our tender group number to be called. The tender from Key West was small. It looked like a Zodiac boat. So we had some time to kill before we could head for the island. The first thing I noticed was now that the ship was at anchor there were crew hanging all over her. Blue overalls were in lowered lifeboats with long handled white paint rollers, they were hanging out the portholes with rust chippers. Crew were clinging to the stack like big blue bugs with paint brushes. The never ending Battle against Rust and Corrosion was once again in full engagement. Ship Shape is the order of the Day!
    All the ships that we have cruised on have been in tip top shape. The Enchantment of the Seas had more people polishing the deck than they had passengers walking the deck (at 3 o'clock in the morning). I was afraid that if I stood in one place for too long someone with a Royal Caribbean badge would wipe me down. Ship Shape means something on these ships. It's great! If you make a mess someone else picks it up (not at home) At dinner if you don't like it send it back! (Don't try that at home!) If you want more just ask for it! (at home it depends on what your asking for) Relax! Enjoy! You are now out there, not back there!… Oh…I'm sorry…. didn't mean to get carried away, but we only have forty or so more days to go till our next one. (at the time I wrote this)
    We played a couple of games of shuffleboard ( best two out of three-I'm a shuffleboard shark, Diane didn't know that, she lost a big bet, but I can't tell you what the payout was, this is a family forum) We heard our number called so we went below, out to the tender dock on the opposite side of the boat from the island. The tender zoomed around the ship. At this distance she looked absolutely enormous. I started snapping pictures like crazy, Around we went and then the island came into view. We held hands, would you look at that Jimmy Buffets place. Neat.
    Now let's review our Plan: relax, go slow, don't inhale it. To **** With That! We had exactly 3 hours and 42 minutes to see the whole island of Key West ... Run!
    What's that over there? Hey would you look at that, is that a zucchini tree? Oh I thought they grew in trees. That shop looks cool lets go over there! Why? I forgot to pack my swimsuit. I set it out for you stupid! That one looks great on you. No it doesn't make your legs look skinny, your legs are skinny. I'm thirsty, we gotta grab a cup of that red stuff over there, I don't care if it cost 4 dollars, time is money! I want a picture of that. Hold Still! Are you trying to take a picture of it or me? Where is Hemingway's house?, I know it must be around here somewhere. Let me have that map, you have never been able to read a map. Here it is. How do you know? I don't see a sign. It must be, look at all the people standing in front of it. They are lost too. Man, its almost time to head back and I'm hungry. Hungry? You should have eaten your prunes. I don't like prunes. Wait, Derrick, Derrick look mother of pearl earrings exactly like the necklace you bought me in San Francisco, can we buy them, please?, please? Diane, if they make you happy get them, have anything that you want. You mean it? We didn't bring a lot of money you know. Diane this is a once in a lifetime trip get them. Oh, I love them, thank you. Kiss, Kiss, gotta go.
    We made it back to the ship and I really was hungry. As for the prunes, I figured I was better off without them. Key West was a moving experience good enough for me (sorry couldn't resist).
    After the Second Tango Lesson
    We left the ballroom and headed to the dining room. Larry and Blair were already seated and Enzo was patiently waiting for us. We sat down. My hope was that the dinner conversation would be better than it was on the first night. The first night consisted of introductions, where froms, airline critiques, and things like that. Tonight we got to the what do you dos. Larry became a little deflated when I informed him that I owned my own company and had recently sold it. I guess he was overwhelmed because he thought I was a mucho successful business owner. He perked up when my wife told him that I had to sale or go bust. With pride, he told me that he was in the hardware distribution business. He seemed to deflate again when Blair translated that to mean he worked in his father's hardware store. I found that interesting and told him so. I also told him that I earned the money to pay for the technical school that I had attended by working for a summer in a hardware store. That's nice, he said.
    Actually the summer I spent working at Reynolds's True Value Hardware was a good one. I learned about good and bad customer service. I learned that there are both good and bad customers. I learned that they are called wing nuts not butterfly nuts. (There is a joke there but never mind) I learned how to rip plywood, thread pipe, avoid a mad female Doberman, assemble lawn mowers, bicycles, and all kinds of lawn furniture. I also learned how to demonstrate and sell portable washer and dryers, pop up campers, power tools and vacuum cleaners. I learned that anything sold to the maritime industry is expensive because they need it in a hurry, and it needs to be made of brass.
    Of course when I worked there I had no idea that I would one day make good money traveling around the world installing phone systems on ships. That's one of the things I do now. They are expensive and there is some brass involved. And they usually need them in a hurry, even when it means traveling to Diego Garcia.
    Tonight I ordered the Prime Rib and a good bottle of wine to share. The wine seemed to make dinner a little more enjoyable. We chatted for a while, drank for a while, ate dessert, finalized our plans for the next day and headed off to the Fantasy Lounge to try out our new Tango skills.
    As soon as we walked into the lounge, Tony and Janet spotted us and waved us over to two seats next to them. We sat down and not being drinkers ordered a couple of Virgin Coladas. The drinks arrived, they where not Virgins. After a couple of sips we didn't care.
    Janet tapped Diane on the knee and pointed to the dance floor. Our first instructors Lenny and Thelma were there doing their thing. Janet said they looked like a couple of strutting pigeons. The description seemed quite accurate to me.
    Tony asked me if he could dance with Diane, and of course I said sure. Tony offered Diane his arm and they walked to the floor. Tony then said something to the band leader and a couple of seconds later the band started playing the Tango. Diane and Tony glided across the floor like they had been dancing together for years. It looked magical. Thelma and Lenny, they looked, well they looked like they had been strutting together for years.
    The dance ended, Diane and Tony, who seemed to be limping slightly, sat back down. I then found out that Tony was a professional dancer and dance instructor. He had danced musical theatre and also owned a number of dance studios. He retired from dancing professionally after breaking his ankle in a car accident. Now his and Janet's full time job was cruising. He also told me that if the conditions were just right, his ankle would quit hurting and allow him to glide across the floor once more. Twice today the conditions had been just right.
    I think Diane was flattered. She should be.
    She and I danced until the place closed. We then went for a walk and sometime in the AM went to bed in our single bunk. It was a tight fit, which after a few minutes became even tighter.
    The next day while at Playa del Carmen we were entertained by the crew. They challenged us (the passengers) to volleyball, horseshoes, and tug of war. They let go of the rope during that contest. My butt was bruised for days when I landed on somebody's knee. I also received very good sunburn that day. I slept in the other bunk that night. Diane was disappointed I'm sure.
    I never finished the story of this cruise ... so to be continued, maybe.
  17. -Gramps-

    My Name is Theodore

    By -Gramps-,

    My name is Theodore. I have had a lot of names in my short life; Beasley, Bailey and one other one that I don't remember, or maybe I just don't want to remember.
    I don't mind the name Theodore, but I like the name Mom and Dad use best ... Teddy Bear.
    I am Teddy Bear Parker. Being a Parker makes me happy. Can a dog be happy? Some will tell you that being happy is only for humans.
    Someone once said that a wild bird will fall frozen from a tree limb and never feel sorry for itself. How does anyone know what a bird or a dog thinks or feels?
    Let me tell you how I feel. I feel lucky. Most of all I feel safe. For the first time in a long, long time I have a family and I have a forever home.
    I know that I had some big paw prints to fill. Mom and Dad, and that's what they are to me now, loved their first dog very much. They try not to mention his name. They talk about how it has been a long time since they saw a dog running around the back yard so fast, or jumping up on their tall bed in the bus.
    I love the bus. The big window is so cool, because I can see so much and there is a lot of air blowing on me like the window is open and I know it isn't. The only thing I don't like is those noisy motorcycles flashing by.
    All of us went out to the mountains in the bus, not long ago. I met some really nice people there. I got to run with another dog on a golf course … that is what Dad called it. I am not sure what it is, but it was fun to have the whole place to myself.
    I try my best to have fun with Mom and Dad. Many a morning I will grab one of Dad's socks off the floor (Mom is always telling Dad to put his dirty socks in the hamper … that basket thing in the corner, but he doesn't listen.) I take the sock to the hallway and wait for Dad. When he asks for it I turn my head and then run around the kitchen table. Dad chases me and I let him get close before I take off again. It's a lot of fun. Mom and Dad both laugh and so does Joel. I give the sock to Dad when he offers me one of my toys. I don't want him to be mad at me.
    Fancy told me to ring the bell at the back door when I need to go out. That trick works really well. When either The Cat or I want a trip to the back yard all we have to do is shake it and someone comes running.
    So things are going really well. As I said, I know I had some big paws prints to fill.
    It has not been easy for any of us, but I also know that we are helping each other get over our past sorrows. Mom was so sad when we first met. She missed Nickolas so much. He had not been gone long before I came into her life. She thought about him all the time. Dad found some letters that Mom wrote to Nickolas. Mom wasn't sure she wanted him to use them, but she did say it was okay.
    Saturday, October, 30, 2010
    Dear Nickolas,
    It has now been a week since I last saw your sweet face. It seems like so much more. This has been one of the hardest weeks of my life, so slow, lifeless and unbearably sad. I knew saying goodbye would be hard and going on without you, even harder. I always said I never wanted a dog, and now I don't know how I ever got along without one. Now I don't know how I'm going to get along without you. I miss you almost every minute of every day. The house is so empty without you. I find myself looking for you at the end of the bed when I wake up in the morning. I listen for the sound of your nails clicking on the hardwood floors as I make my way to the kitchen. I no longer have a reason to step out the back door and walk around the yard, enjoying the fresh air, the singing birds, checking out the plants, waiting for you to take care of your "business." I forget to feed Fancy breakfast (and dinner) without you at my feet so expectantly looking forward to your meal. I look for you when I finish eating to share a last crust of bread or to lick my bowl; I miss how excited and appreciative you always were of receiving the smallest tidbit. I could go on and on about other things I miss, like you waiting for me when I step out of the shower, following me through the house as I go about my day, sometimes leading me – anticipating which room I might be going to next – looking over your shoulder to be sure I'm coming, greeting me so cheerfully whenever I enter the house – no matter how long or short my absence. Very little things, really, but very much like the punctuation marks that complete a thought, an act. With your bright eyes and your wagging tail, just your presence made every day a little brighter, everyday tasks a little lighter. Thank you so much for all the joy you brought to my life.
    I never imagined when you came into our home that you would take over my heart in such a way. I had always liked dogs, but never really wanted to have a dog. They seemed like so much more responsibility than a cat. I found out with you that yes, dogs are a bit more work. They must be walked, no matter how bad the weather, picked up after, groomed. Long periods of absence are difficult since dogs need someone to let them out. But Nickolas, you gave so much more than any cat I've ever had. It was never work taking care of you. It was all joy – well maybe taking you out in the cold and rain wasn't fun, but I'd give anything to be able to do it again.
    Sunday, October 31, 2010
    What a blessing to have had 12 years with you! How lucky that I didn't work and could spend most of my time with you. Dad said you were my shadow. Whenever anyone wanted to find you, all they had to do was look for me, you were sure to be close by. I've enjoyed walking almost as long as I can remember. It helps to clear my mind and calm my spirit. It doesn't matter whether it's the mountains, the beach, or the city, it has always rejuvenated me. But walking with you always added something extra. Your excitement from the word "walk" to the end of the outing was infectious. It was so evident with your bright eyes, your wide smile, your happy little "doggie trot," and your nose finding so many smells, even your persistent tugging on the leash. You were always so willing to go with me, never too tired or busy and people seemed much more interested in talking with you by my side than they ever were when I walked alone.
    I always missed you when we were apart; you at the groomers or me running errands or spending time places dogs just weren't welcome. I hated taking you to the groomers – you shook all the way there. You always forgave me though and were so happy to see me when I came to pick you up. Your Aunt Vickie was so sad to hear that you had gone. She helped me find pictures of you and talked about how good you were to Amy when she was learning to groom cockers.
    Monday, November 1, 2010
    I remember when I first fell for you. Christine started asking me, "Mom, don't you want a dog?" as soon as Molly became pregnant. My answer was always "No" She asked again when we were visiting her at her home in New Jersey and your eyes were just opening. You were pretty hard to resist, but still my answer was "No." Something happened when she had to bring your whole litter here so she could attend Jeri's graduation. Dad wouldn't allow any dogs in the house. We would stand amazed at the door to the garage and watch as one moment there appeared to be a cauldron of boiling puppies, tumbling, wrestling, moving, and the next moment a pile of dead dogs – everyone asleep. There came a moment as Christine and I were watching all of you romping in the back yard that I was captivated by you. You were sitting alone watching the craziness of your litter mates and I said, "If I could have one, I'd like that one."
    Christine ran immediately into the house yelling: "Da-ad, Mom wants a dog!"
    Dad looked at me in disbelief and said, "You don't want a DOG, do you?"
    I meekly responded, "Well, maybe."
    I took you with me to one of Joel's baseball games. You sat on my lap and it was so nice to have company in the bleachers ... usually I sat alone watching the games.The family went for a walk in the neighborhood, Molly and Chandler were walked by Christine and Brent, you walked with me, and you had the happiest little dog trot. Christine continued to place you on my lap and Dad's for the rest of her visit, by then you had wormed your way into my heart. Our lives were never the same.
    I had never owned a dog of my own before. Dad sternly said, "You can keep him but you'll be the one taking care of him and he better not have any accidents or chew anything up!" I knew I had my work cut out for me. I took you out every hour so you wouldn't have any accidents inside. We didn't have a fence then, so I had to take you out on leash and it was summertime so there were plenty of mosquitoes. I read dog training books from the library as fast as I could, I was so thrilled when you learned to "nose the bell" to let us know you needed to go out. You never had another accident after that. I kept you with me as I moved around the house to be sure you wouldn't chew up anything you shouldn't. Pretty soon I didn't have to ask you to come with me; you believed your place was by my side.
    I changed the sheets on our bed today and was immediately reminded of the way you would eagerly wait for the dirty sheets and blankets to hit the floor so you could pounce on them and roll around in them on your back, twisting and turning, moving your arms and legs, sometimes biting at them. I never could figure out exactly why you did that but you always seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. Sometimes I would join in the wrestling match, covering you with the sheets and tapping at your belly, ears, tail. It instantly turned a chore into game.
    Sunday, November 7 2010…
    It's been a busy week, Dad walks with me now, and I appreciate it. But I feel your absence on each walk. Christine and her boys came over today. They brought Bella, thinking spending time with her would help. I thought I was starting to get used to you not being around, but having her here made me miss you more than ever.
    Diane
    There are no more letters -- maybe because Dad did a lot of searching and then they found me.
    I met my new Mom and Dad the day after Thanksgiving. At first I wasn't sure about them. I was just excited to be out for a walk. It was the first one in a long time. I ran to the end of the leash and just stayed there. I think I was quite a handful. Dad said I pulled like a mule. Mom said she thought I seemed like a great big puppy. I guess I was. I jumped up on them and washed both their faces. Neither one minded that a bit. Mom was laughing and crying at the same time. There was something about the two of them that I could not resist. When Becky, the lady who brought me to Mom and Dad, said it was time to go and Mom led me to the car, I jumped right in. I knew right away that I wanted to be with them. We drove for a long time and they took me to the Bus. They gave me toys and treats and took me for a long walk down "Dog Street" in someplace called Williamsburg. I met other dogs, and lots of people. It was great.
    Mom, Dad, Joel, they are my people, my family. I love them with everything in me.
    I hate being separated from them … it makes me anxious, but with Mom's help I am getting used to having time by myself.
    I have learned that Mom and Dad always come back for me.
    They have learned that I will always be there, waiting for them.
    Nope, it hasn't been easy, but it is getting better all the time.
    I am Teddy Bear Parker, a very lucky dog.
    Oh, Dad, thanks for helping me write this.

  18. -Gramps-
    Yesterday, Teddy Bear, our Cocker Spaniel, was very ill. We don't know how, but he he picked up a gastro bacterial infection. It knocked him for a loop. He wouldn't eat, or drink anything, on his own. If we coached him, he would take a bit of yogurt, or maybe eat an ice cube, but neither would stay down for long. I can tell you it scared both Diane and myself. I guess we are still a bit raw-nerved from the loss of our Nickolas just five short months ago. Actually, I was more than scared, I was numb.
    Diane and I made a trip to the vet late in the day yesterday. The good doctor there ran a few tests and determined that Teddy picked up a germ somewhere that was reaking touble in his gut. She gave him a shot for nausea, which started to work really fast. She also prescribed a dose of antibiotics. We went home, relieved to know that the trouble was not something that needed anything major to fix, like surgery.
    This morning he still had problems keeping food down but he continued to try to eat. This evening he seems to be doing okay. I don't think he is all that crazy about a diet of chicken broth and white rice, but he is eating it.
    So "Oh Lord, not again" is really true. Because of prayer and medicine that is working, it is not happening again. We are not losing our dog.
    Gramps.
  19. -Gramps-

    Packrat

    By -Gramps-,

    My wife tells me that I am a packrat. I consider myself a collector of memories.
    I have a lot of wrist watches, including six Disney ones.
    I collect pocket knives. Some are quite old and some of those I have had since I was really young.
    There are a lot of things in my small home office. Some of the things would be considered junk by most people. Some may be worth a few bucks. To me they are all valuable.
    Hanging on the wall in front of my desk is a gold framed shawdowbox with all the pins from all the Apollo Space missions mounted inside. Above the shadowbox are two shelves holding thirteen diecast 1.24-scale metal trucks. Most of the trucks are models of vehicles made between 1900 and 1947.
    Behind me are six long shelves covered with all kinds of items.
    I made the shelf array. I took a trip to a ladder supply company and bought a 20-foot-tall one-piece wooden ladder. I cut the one large ladder into two 7-foot 4-inch ladders. I sanded the two sections, stained them a nice honey color and then attached them to the celing so they would be perpindicular to the rear brick wall of my office. Then I took the six pine shelves, stained them a rich Hunter Green and placed them across the rungs of the ladder sections.
    On these shelves are more model trucks, cars and a few motor homes. I have signed baseballs (one with Roy Hobbs' autograph), a lot of paperback books including the complete works of D. Francis, (I read my first Francis novel when I was about 13), all the Harry Potter novels, the complete Lord of the Rings as well as the Chronicles of Narnia . Sitting alongside of the books are their DVD collections.
    I have on display Pez dispensors, ceramic and plush Disney characters, a collection of books and DVDs about the Civil War and World War II. There is also a number of telephony novelty items like a wind-up walking telephone.
    I have an old small horseshoe that I keep on one of those shelfs. On the wall of my office, just to the right of those shelves, is a wooden plaque made by my father. Two things are mounted on this plaque. One is a small brass plate with my name and birth date engraved on it. The second item, above the brass plate, is a wooden carving of a Conestoga wagon. This carving used to be mounted on the headboard of a wagon wheel bunk bed.
    The bunk bed belonged to me when I was a young boy back in the late 1950s. I slept in that bed under the same-style bed spread that was on Beaver Cleaver's bed. I had a model of Nellie-Belle, the jeep from the Roy Rogers' show on my dresser along with a model of Trigger, Roy Rogers' horse.
    Just before I went to bed I would remove my Hop a Long Cassidy wristwatch and place it back in its saddle-shaped box that was on my desk. Also on the desk was my horseshoe with my name engraved on it. This horseshoe came from Williamsburg and was bought during a first or second grade field trip.
    The Roy Rogers action toys have long disappeared and so has the watch. The horseshoe and the wagon carving, I still have. They remind me of a time that was so much simpler than it is now. It was a time when it was easy to tell the bad guys from the good ones because the good guys wore white hats and the bad guys black. Back then TV was black-and-white and no one disagreed that father knew best. I keep the horseshoe as a reminder of summer vacations without a care in the world, as well as no air conditioning. I keep the plaque to remind me of the time we played outside, and everyone one knew everyone else in the neighborhood. I keep it to remind me of baths just before bedtime, half hour news shows, trips to Highs Ice Cream, or to the drug store for a Cherry Coke.
    I keep the horseshoe and that wooden wagon carving to remind me that yes, a long time ago, I was once a young and happy kid.
    Gramps
  20. -Gramps-
    It feels good to be writing again. The last couple of weeks have been very busy for me. ….I know, some people don’t have the time to read about my life; they have one of their own. That is what one person told me in the form of a reply after I posted a blog entry. I had to ask myself, why did they read it then?
    Well this week has been phone system training classes and meetings of all sorts. Last week Diane and I spent three really great days at our home away from home at the Deer Creek Motorcoach resort. We were there by ourselves the first night. The second day our friends Neal and Shirley arrived. They spent one night. We went out to dinner together and talked about the resort, caught up on what all the other owners were up to. The next night, Sunday night to be exact, we went out to dinner with Laura, Barry the developer’s wife. That sounds funny. Laura is just as responsible for Deer Creek being there as anyone else and I thank her for that.
    Our time there was really good. Teddy, our new Cocker Spaniel, for those of you who don’t know, really took to the place and every one took to him. Teddy really enjoyed a long hike we took on part of the New River Trail that runs through Galax. It was about a four or five mile hike and it took a major part of the wind out of his sails. It tired me out as well.
    Sunday morning was windy. I managed to get in a round of golf and then I pulled a large multi celled, multi colored, nylon octagon box kite out of the basement of the coach. This kite is really big…when assembled it will fill up the back of a Jeep Waggoner. I know, because I tried to stow it in the back of one and I had to semi-take it apart, the kite that is, to make it fit.
    The kite has about thirty five pounds of lift when there is enough wind to get it off the ground. There was more than enough wind this particular day and when it gusted, there was too much. I found that out the hard way. At about 300 feet in the air the seventy five pound test line the kite was at the end of….broke. The kite blew away from me at a high rate of speed as it slowly drifted back down to earth. It landed in a very large rolling cow pasture that is surrounded by a barbed wire fence. I went after it as fast as I could, rewinding my line as I ran. I lost sight of it. I ran back to our site and hopped in the car, drove to the pasture but I couldn’t find the kite. Which hill did it blow over? I drove back to the coach where Diane was standing outside. She saw the kite go down and she and Teddy were waiting for me. I grabbed a pair of binoculars, maybe they will help.
    Back to the pasture we went, on foot this time. We walked around to a gate, which I climbed over. I started wondering around looking in the direction the wind was blowing, trying to find this very large but now invisible kite. As I was meandering around, the owner of the pasture was driving toward me in his Jeep. I ran over as he rolled down the window.
    “I think I know where it is…hop in”
    He obviously knew what I was looking for. Greg, that’s his name, was watching the ACC championship game and happened to glance out his big window just in time to see my kite fall to earth.
    After a short drive and that is better than walking in a heavily used cow pasture, we found it in a low creek bed. It was unharmed.
    During this time Diane was having a conversation with some people across the street from the gate; Teddy and a small dog were getting to know each other.
    Greg taxied me and my kite to the parking lot of our clubhouse, where Diane was standing on the mini golf course.
    She was as happy to see my seventy dollar kite as I was.
    So there you have it…our Deer Creek adventure in a nut shell.
    The next morning we were off to Greensboro. We arrived at about eleven where we dropped off our coach at the Workhorse repair center. The water pump, along with the fan clutch assembly is or was under a recall. Also the dash air conditioner was no longer working. The techs would need at least a couple of days to fix all these problems so we decided to stay with my Mom and Dad for a couple of days. We made a quick trip to Camping World were we spent a surprisingly small amount of money and then made the drive to my folks place.
    Two days turned into four. That seems to happen a lot, time expanding itself, when a coach needs to be repaired. All three of us stayed in my Dad’s cabin. It was a bit more primitive than our coach but it still felt like we were rving it….sort of. The only bad thing that happened was the cabin had a new water heater. The thermostat was set a bit too low. It had about two minutes worth of hot water. Diane found that out real quick. Have you seen the shower scene in Ground Hog day? It sounded a bit like that only with a higher pitch! Before my shower I grabbed a screwdriver out of the car and turned up the temp.
    We visited some cousins while we were there. My cousin Sonja has a really nice huge house than Diane had never been in before, so we got the tour. Great place, but I prefer something smaller, with wheels.
    Mom and Dad took us to this really good Greek/Italian place in Lexington called Cristo’s. I had roasted stuffed green peppers with a Greek Salad. Diane had beef gyros that looked pretty tasty. Dad provided most of our other meals, which were good as well.
    We didn’t do much while visiting besides sit and talk. The situation in Japan was the biggest topic of conversation. I thought that owning a motorhome is a good thing if you have a natural disaster that wipes out your stick house. Of course you would have to have a lot of advance warning in order to drive the rv to someplace safe. We have, on occasion, had large hurricanes hit this area and after the last big one I was impressed by my neighbors living in a Bounder while the rest of us suffered in the heat, with no power to take a hot shower or have a cold beer. Not long after that we bought our first coach, also a Bounder. There had to be a connection.
    Speaking of connections. The day before we left to pick up our coach, Janis and Gary called. They were on thier way to A Thousand Trails resort not far from Lexington. They wanted to know if we were still at Galax. When we found out we were just about a half hour away from each other we made plans for dinner at the best place in town. So that night we went back to Cristo's for the salad and pizza buffet.
    It was good to see them again. We had a great visit which I appreciated very much. They are heading out west and we don't know when we will see them again. I wish I could follow them out there...wherever there is.
    After four days and a number of phone calls back and forth, we were notified that our coach was repaired almost. A part for the AC was in but not installed. Diane needed to get back home because our daughter Jeri was flying up from Florida to attend a wedding in Richmond. Diane was going to go with her.
    So Diane dropped me off at the dealer, then she and the pup drove home. Five hours later I followed all by myself in the coach.
    It was a piece of cake without her, almost. I made a couple of wrong turns that I will blame on the Ms Garmin. I arrived home around nine thirty at night. Diane may have been worried (she called me twice to see where I was) but I did just fine, don’t let her tell you different.
    The next morning Diane and Jeri took off for Richmond, Joel left for Fredericksburg, and that left Teddy and me to fend for ourselves. We ate, we slept, and I looked after my grand boys for a night. We did just fine. Don’t let Diane tell you any different!
    Gramps
  21. -Gramps-

    40 Years

    By -Gramps-,

    Diane and I have discovered that living in a motor coach simplifies our life. We don't find the small space to be confining. Quite the opposite, it is liberating. Our motor coach frees us from thinking about so many things. She and I normally operate in two different worlds. Diane's world concerns the house, the two men, the cat and the dog that live in it with her. My world revolves around my business, my computers, and my online friends. Most of the time we are in two different parts of the house or we are in my office sitting at two different computers. We share the same room when watching TV, but there is not much conversation and it isn't unusual for us both to fall asleep while NCIS or Castle or some other program rumbles on in the background.
    When we travel in the coach we rediscover each other. We are not on the same couch but we are just feet away from each other looking out the same big window. Teddy is sometimes on Diane's lap watching the world fly by with us. We have hours to just "sit and talk." We do plenty of that. We may review the things that have happened in our lives, we talk about our past, our memories and there are lots of those, or we talk about our future and how uncertain it is. We talk about God, our kids, our extended families.
    When you boil it all down, the coach helps us to remember just how much we love each other and how long we have been together, and we have been together for a long, long time...
  22. -Gramps-
    In order to christen the new blog format, I feel it is necessary to post a few more of my truisms. These truisms fall under my Rules for Owning a Motor Coach: Part 4.
    Owning a Motor Coach is a Never-ending Learning Experience.
    I have learned that a clear sewer connection is a good thing to have … that way, you will see the juice box the grand kids dumped in the toilet as it makes its final journey.
    My wife still will not let me stop at South of the Border and buy anything.
    My wife will not let me stop at JRs, either.
    I have learned that I hate repairing plumbing problems … in the house or in the coach -- it makes no difference to me. I always end up wet and angry.
    The folks at Cracker Barrel are just as friendly as they claim to be.
    A motor coach parked in the driveway makes a great place for family to stay when visiting, especially when the occasion is a wedding.
    A motor coach roof makes a great place to collect snow.
    A snow-covered motor coach roof heat pump produces a gosh-awful smell while operating.
    Did you know that snow can burn when it melts due to high heat?
    A snow-covered motorhome can produce a manmade mini blizzard while traveling down the road.
    Driving a motor coach on snow and ice can be a nerve-damaging experience.
    During a panic stop, an agile cocker spaniel can surf the bathroom rug from the back end of the coach all the way to the dash and look good doing it.
    Slideouts produce a gosh-awful sound while being retracted if the toppers have ice on them.
    Slideouts do not retract all the way if they have ice on them. So a trip to the roof may become necessary.
    It is a lot easier to climb onto a snow-covered motorhome roof than it is to climb off of one. So I suggest you just forget it!
    Things in a motor coach tend to break when you need them the most. Like a bay heater failing during a blizzard.
    My favorite place to be in January is camping at Fort Wilderness.
    Carry a couple of ceramic heaters in your coach. You might just save a water pump and/or water filter from freezing to death.
    A trip to Camping World can cost me at least a hundred bucks, even when I have no plans to buy anything. If I have plans to purchase something, I will end up spending ... well, you don't want to know.
    Why do I need to have three different dominoes games stored in my coach?
    A trip to Wal-Mart can cost me at least fifty bucks even when I am planning only to purchase a six-pack of beer.
    At some point a motor coacher can own too many DVDs.
    It is a lot harder to get something wrong with your coach repaired than it is to break it.
    My wife says I sound like the dad from A Christmas Story working on his furnace when I am in the wet bay trying to replace a frozen water pump.
    Looking out a motorhome window at snow-covered trees and frozen rivers flying by is quite a wonderful sight.
    Just take a deep breath and enjoy the view.
    I have learned that a motor coach will improve your life, even in the wintertime, if you let it.


  23. -Gramps-

    The Candle

    By -Gramps-,

    In late November of 1990 I received my December issue of Reader's Digest. I read all the humorous parts of the magazine, and one cover story and then promptly stuck it on a shelf with all the other issues that I still had in my possession.
    Soon it was Christmas. At that time all of my three children were young. Christine was fourteen, Jeri was eleven, and Joel was five.
    It was a tough time for us. I was unemployed. I had been without work for almost two years. The country was in an economic recession and things didn't look too good for the coming year. I was not sure what to do. I was taking all the temporary jobs I could find. These jobs actually came from an agency that offered part time work to technical people. I installed a mri, worked for other phone companies installing microwave systems for the Navy, installed voice mail systems, whatever I was offered. Diane helped with the cash flow by working as a demonstrator for super markets, frying sausages, handing out flyers and samples of cookies, that kind of thing. Together the two of us were just getting by. Unemployment compensation was not something we were interested in, even if it paid as much as our combined pay checks.
    There would not have been anything for the kids if Diane and I had not decided to spend the traditiononal Christmas money given to us by Diane's dad on just them.
    The girls knew that our financial situation was bleak so they were not expecting much on Christmas morning.
    They awoke and were very surprised to find a brand new Nintendo attached to the TV.
    There were also some new clothes, Disney videos, Fisher Price Dinosaurs for Joel, and candy for everyone stuffed into stockings.
    We had to tear the kids away from the Nintendo for breakfast. After a meal of home made muffins, eggs and sausage (we had lots of that) and orange juice we went back to the living room for a reading of the Christmas story.
    We had a great morning in spite of being as poor as church mice or something like that.
    The morning was really good, much better than expected, but I was still anxious about the coming weeks. I was fighting discouragement.
    I was not sure why but I had the urge to read something for myself. I got up from my chair and and got the copy of Reader's Digest that I had stuck on the shelf weeks before.
    While Manheim Steamroller was playing on the stereo, I began to thumb through the magazine looking at the condensed Christmas story collection that it contained.
    I came across a story written by a prisoner in a Japanese concentration camp. After a paragraph or two I knew that I had to read it to the family. Silent Night began playing just as I started. It was amazing how the music fit the words as I read out loud. I began to think that this moment was not an accident.
    This is the story:
    The Candle
    "We were barricaded into a dank shed ringed with barbed wire in a Japanese concentration camp called Si Ringo Ringo on the east coast of Sumatra. Outside the tropical sun blazed by day and a huge moon filled the fantastically starry sky by night. Inside the shed was perpetual darkness.
    There were people living in that shed. No, 'living' is the wrong word. We were packed away there. Sometimes we could see beyond us little sparks, as sun or moon flashed on patches of barbed wire that hadn't rusted over the years. For it had been years now - or was it decades? We were too sick and too weak to care. In the beginning, we thought about such things as the day or the hour. Now, eternity.
    Beside us and in front of us, men died - from hunger, from disease from the ebbing of the last ray of hope. We had long stopped believing in the end of the war, in liberation. We lived in a stupor, blunted, with only one remaining passion that flew at our throats like a wild animal: hunger. Except when someone caught a snake or a rat, we starved.
    There was, however, one man in the camp who still had something to eat. A candle!
    Of course, he had not originally thought of it as food - a normal person doesn't eat candle wax. But if all you saw around you were emaciated bodies (in which you recognized yourself), you, too, would not underestimate the value of this candle.
    When he couldn't stand the torture of hunger anymore, the prisoner would carefully take the candle from its hiding place, a crumpled little suitcase, and nibble at it. He didn't eat it all. He looked upon the candle as his last resort. One day, when everyone was utterly mad with hunger, he would need it.
    To me, his friend, he had promised a small piece. So I watched him and his suitcase, day and night. It became my life's task to see to it that in the end he would not eat the entire candle by himself.
    One evening after counting the notches he'd made in a beam, another prisoner mentioned that it was Christmas. In a flat, toneless voice he said, 'Next Christmas we'll be home.' A few of us nodded; most didn't react at all. Who could still cling to that idea?
    Then someone else said something very strange: 'When it is Christmas, the candles burn and there are bells ringing.' His words barely audible, as if they came from an immense distance and a deep, deep past. To most of us, the remark had no meaning whatsoever; it referred to something completely out of our existence.
    It was already very late, and we lay on our boards, each with his thoughts - or, more accurately, with no thoughts. Then my friend became restless. He crept toward his suitcase and took out the candle. I could see its whiteness clearly in the dark. He is going to eat it. I thought. If only he won't forget me.
    He put the candle on his plank bed. What now? He went outside, where our captor's kept a fire smoldering. Then he returned, carrying a burning chip. This little flare wandered through the shed like a ghost. When my friend reached his place, he took the chip, the fire, and he lit his candle.
    The candle stood on his bed, and it burned.
    No one said a word, but soon one shadow after another slipped closer. Silently these half-naked men with sunken cheeks and eyes full of hunger formed a circle around the burning candle.
    One by one they came forward, the vicar and the parson, too. You couldn't tell that's what they were, for they were merely two more wasted figures, but we knew.
    'It's Christmas,' said the parson in a husky voice. 'The Light shineth in the darkness.'
    Then the vicar said, 'And the darkness overcame it not.'
    That night those words from the Gospel of John were not some written word from centuries ago. It was living reality, a message for each of us.
    For the light shone in the darkness. And the darkness didn't conquer it. We knew this not because we reasoned it out at the time, but because we felt it, silently, around the piercing flame.
    That candle was whiter and more slender than any I have seen since. And in the flame (though I'm sure I can never describe it, not really - it was a secret we shared with the Christ child) we saw things that were not of this world. We were deep in the swamps and the jungle but now we heard the bronze sound of a thousand bells ringing and a choir of angels singing for us. Yes, I am perfectly sure - I have over a hundred witnesses. Most of them can't speak anymore; they are no longer here. But that doesn't mean they don't know.
    The candle burned higher and higher, ever more pointed, until it touched the very roof of the dark shed, and then it went on, reaching to the stars. Everything became full of light. Not one of us ever saw so much light again.
    We were free, and uplifted, and we were not hungry.
    Now someone softly said, 'Next Christmas we'll be home,' and this time we knew it was true. For the light itself had given us this message-it was written in the Christmas flame in fiery letters. You can believe it or not; I saw it myself.
    The candle burned all night (yes, I know there is not a candle in the world that can burn so long and so high), and when morning came, we sang. Now we knew that there was a home waiting for each of us.
    And there was. Some of us went home before the next Christmas. The others? Well, they were home as well. I helped to lay them down in the earth behind our camp, a dry spot in the swamp. But when they died, their eyes were not as dim as before. They were filled with light, our candle's light, the Light that the darkness did not conquer." (The Candle, c'77 by Hollandia, printed in December 1990 Reader's Digest Magazine, pp. 69-71, ubp).
    I was so moved by the spirit of the man who wrote this story that I could not finish it without tears. I thought that if he could have this kind of faith in the middle of such dire circumstances, that I could have faith that our New Year would be better. I could have the faith that something would happen to change my family's fortune and circumstances.
    I was right. The following March I started a little company that I called LINK voice & data. It would be a struggle but we got it off the ground and soon it will be twenty years old.
    We still read The Candle at Christmas. Jeri reads it on Christmas morning in her home as well. It still makes me cry.
    Maybe you are going through a rough time now, or know someone who is. This is the day for remembering that the light of God can overcome any darkness. God can bring you, your friends or your family out of any situation you are in. He can bring you into the light!
    God bless and Merry Christmas!
    Gramps
  24. -Gramps-
    Last Saturday I roasted two 17-pound Honeysuckle White All Natural Turkeys to provide the main course for 30 people. The event was an open house at Deer Creek Motorcoach and Golf Resort that my wife and I are now the latest residents of here in Galax, Va. We had six coaches visiting and I wanted to make a fine impression. So after a quick morning round of golf with some of our guests, I started on the evening meal.
    I cooked one bird in an aluminum roasting pan on a large hooded gas grill over indirect heat (flame on one side of the grill) with a packet of Jack Daniel's white oak wood chips over the flame. The second bird went into a Rival electric smoker/roaster with the same chips and white wine in a water tray. I started the second bird an hour before the first because I intended to slow smoke it for almost eight hours. Both birds were stuffed with onion quarters and lots of celery and covered with olive oil and Montreal Chicken Seasoning.
    I started around 10 o'clock in the morning with the first bird. The second around 11 o'clock. I made a mistake with the bird on the grill. I should have put it in the middle of the grill, not on one end like I would do with my Char Griller. I caught my mistake in time to rotate the bird and even out the cooking.
    The second bird came off the grill when the breast meat reached 175 degrees and still very moist. I let it sit for about 30 minutes. The dark meat inside the pan was not quite done yet. Diane and I then carved the bird up and put the legs and thighs back on the grill for about 10 minutes over high heat until they were just right. Then the wife and I finished slicing it up and keeping all the meat warm in a Crock-Pot.
    Next, it was time to take the first bird off the grill. This one was really good, almost steamed in the white wine and smoked at the same time. The skin didn't get crispy as much as the one on the grill, but that didn't matter considering the taste. The breast meat was so tender you could cut it with a spoon. And what a good taste it had -- a hint of smoke and a hint of wine flavor.
    Both turkeys went fast along with all the other goodies provided by the residents and guests: baked white beans with sausage, two kinds of scalloped potatoes, sweet potato salad, cranberry chutney, broccoli salad, baked zuchinni casserole, stuffing, sourdough bread, peach cobbler, pumpkin pie with whipped cream and all kinds of cookies. Oh, and we had live bluegrass music, to boot. The evening was a hit.
    Its now a few days later, Tuesday as a matter of fact.
    Now comes the sad part of this story. We took the carcasses of those happy birds, along with the wings and giblets, and cooked them in a very large stew pot on the side burner of the gas grill for hours. Into the pot went celery, onions, lots of fresh garlic and more Montreal Chicken spices.
    It was a windy day and after about six hours you could smell this concoction all over the resort and the golf course. It was maddening. Everyone wanted to know when it would be ready. About 90 minutes before dinnertime, I took the pot off the grill, and took it into the stoveless kitchenette in our clubhouse. Diane picked the meat off the bones and put it back in the pot. Then we moved it to the gas stove inside our coach. The wind was getting a bit strong and I didn't want to fight with a burner going out just before this stuff needed to be done. We planned to add carrots, a bit more onion, green beans, tomato and celery along with rice to this rich broth.
    We took the Corian cover off of our stove and propped it up on the back of the stove like normal. Almost. Diane turned it around backward, so it didn't fit exactly where it belonged. Then she needed to leave the coach for a minute. She shut the door hard, and the Corian cover slipped and caught the pot just under the bottom. Off the stove the pot went.
    The noise the cover made forced me to turn around in time to see this great big pot of soup fly across my coach. I tried to catch it but all I could do was grab a handle just after it hit the floor on its side. Turkey soup everywhere!
    My dog was lapping liquid as fast as he could get his tongue to move. Diane heard the pot crash, so she rushed back in to see the disaster -- the carpet getting soaked, turkey broth rushing toward the front of the coach, and my mom desperately pulling up the area rug.
    Well, we cleaned it up while my parents, who were visiting us, drove to the store to purchase some good old-fashioned burger fixin's as a quick substitute for what would have been some mighty fine turkey soup.
    The incident at the time seemed pretty bad, but it did make for some funny dinner conversation.
    Didn't I post a rule about having to be patient because things can go wrong?
    To add to my rule number 4:
    Sham Wows do work.
    Awning Cleaner also cleans carpet really well.
    If you find that new coach smell to be a bit overpowering, you can cure it with 2 gallons of turkey soup!
  25. -Gramps-

    Off to Florida!

    By -Gramps-,

    The Night Before.
    It will be a day later than we planned but we are going to St Augustine for New Year's eve. We will do our best to make up the time that we lost. We lost it due to ten inches of snow or maybe it was twelve? It will be a long day on the road tomorrow. Hopefully we will pull into North Beach Campground late Wednesday instead of early in the day. Jeri, Tom and Dilly will arrive sometime Thursday Morning.
    I think that due to the snow eating the start of our trip, I will add an extra day onto our stay at Fort Wilderness and leave next Saturday Morning instead of Friday. What's another sixty four bucks?
    The snow is quite amazing. It is supposed to be the third biggest amount since records were started back in the 1880s or sometime close to that. We certainly have never had this much snow for Christmas in my lifetime.
    Fortunately I pulled in all the coach slide outs the night before. I didn't like the idea of climbing up on the roof and sweeping snow off. That seemed like a risky thing to do.
    I did my best to keep the coach warm. It was was not that hard to do. What was hard was thawing it out after the 12 volt water bay heater failed. The fan would blow but no heat at all. I had to put a 120 volt ceramic heater in the bay and keep it hot for quite a while. Once the water started flowing again I tuned it down to a balmy 70 degrees.
    So if all goes well, we make it down our icy street to the church parking lot where I hook up the car and then to the main road outside our neighborhood, we should be on our way to just south of Florence, South Carolina and spend our one night on the road.
    Well I need to make this short because I am still packing up the rig.


    Check back later, you never know what you might find here!
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