Greetings Friends! I am hoping that you are having a mahvelous Monday so far. And if you’re not, get some coffee or chocolate stat!

I think I have probably given my neighbors a few laughs already today.  I may even be appearing on America’s Funniest Home Videos in the future, if any of them had their phones with them—– I nearly wrote movie cameras, then thought better of it and replaced it with video cameras, then thought some more and realized it would be the phone that my neighbors had pressed up against the window, recording my exploits. Just another reminder of all the tech changes we have lived through in our lifetimes!

And this reminds me of the vivid dream I had while camping last weekend.  Those of you who grew up in RW may remember Mrs. Brinkman—Velma Brinkman—- who taught Reading in junior high. Remember that reading projector that she had that chunked words together so you read in phrases? And only one phrase would be visible at a time? And it did a whole story like that and then we took a quiz on it? And the speed of the phrases being projected would increase, to increase our reading speed? Hopefully not at the expense of our comprehension?

Yep. That’s what I was dreaming about. I was back in class with those phrases clicking across the screen and then it was now and I was trying to describe this to some millenials. And just before this I was in the hallway on second floor in the old building, explaining to someone that I needed to get back to that room in the corner by the girls’ bathroom because that was Mrs. Brinkman’s room.

Why the heck am I dreaming about Reading class in junior high??????????

I don’t know either.

Actually I have dreamt about that area before. I am on first floor and I have to get to second floor to that room in the corner. But when I go up one flight of stairs, I am on third floor! And when I go down one flight of stairs, I am back on first floor, by Miss Chrisinger’s room!!!!!

I can’t get to the second floor.

There’s another piece to this. My dad’s old room was on second floor, and I believe it was in that corner.  (Judy, is this right? I somehow remember waiting for him in the car with Mom, and she pointed to those second floor windows)   This was before the new building was built and he moved into the room where I remember him teaching.

But that doesn’t explain the vivid dream about that chunking machine!!!!!!

HOO Boy! Am I wandering today! Sorry.

Back to this morning. It began as a regular day. We had our last camping trip(here’s the view from our site),

 

and now it was time to wash the sleeping bags for the season.

Regular, regular, except that I had to get the bags out of the camper. Would I be able to do that? I asked the hubster? Sure, he said, although you may have to crawl in. Okay. I can do that.

Before I begin you need to know that we have two of the giganto sized heavy, old school flannel sleeping bags that are zipped together. When we go to sleep in the trailer in this cocoon, we are in different zip codes the bags are so wide.

So, now I begin the story of their extraction.

Yes, I crawled in the tiny camper door,  but soon had to switch to lying on my back so I could reach the bags which were under one of the bed platforms. As I tugged, the bags began to move inch by inch. Soon I could grab a handful and could pull more of the bags out. Now the problem was that there was no place to put the bag. And because of the angle with which I had to pull, I had to stay where I was on my back on the floor. And it was too small an area to sit up.

Hmmm. What to do? Well, I kicked off my shoes which were on my feet that were sticking out of the trailer. At this point I think I can hear the neighbor laughing. Then I bring my foot up, wrap it around the sleeping bag and tug it outside. And then again. And again. I am making progress, but by then the bulk of the sleeping bags are on top of me and cutting out the light.  And air.  And Oh My God, I am getting claustrophobic, thinking that I have had this dream before.  Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

So I kept on tugging with my hands and propelling the sleeping bag out of the trailer’s small door. I am sure that at this point the neighbor is calling to his wife  to come see the camper upchucking the sleeping bag out of its mouth.

I didn’t care. I needed to get OUT NOW! I also didn’t care that said sleeping bags were falling all over the ground since I was taking them to the laundromat for washing.

Now I just need to get out. I tried to sit sideways to scuttle, but my head came in contact with the pressboard and I envisioned having to pull a sliver out of my scalp. Back down to the floor where I reverse army crawled on my back out of the small camper door.

BREATHE!!!!!

Okay, good. Lock up the camper, take the bags to the porch where I could unzip them to fit them into the giganto sized washing machines at the laundromat. First zipper? Smooth as silk. Second zipper? Not even close, even after I used needle nosed pliers and a small screwdriver, and had determined that I was pulling on the correct side.

I had to call on the hubster to use his  brute strength to free the zipper. And he did just that, except for the little metal bar attached to the twill tape, you know, the part that you insert into the zipper to be able to get the teeth to mesh?

Yep. That part stayed with the zipper housing. I finally coaxed it out with the bigger pliers, intact and ready to be reattached to new twill tape when I figure out a way to fix the darn thing.

And then I put that little metal bit into a special dish because I knew if the cats found it, they would think that it was a cat toy.

All right. Take the bags to the laundromat where the first washer I stuff one bag into has a broken door latch. Good thing I hadn’t put the soap or the money in yet. I find another which is nearly done and next to an empty washer that I can use now, so the washers will be done about 5 minutes apart.

Enough time for me to scoot to Mac and Don’s for a quite illegal pumpkin spice latte. Yum.

I return and take the now wet and ten times heavier bags out to the car so I can hang them on the clothesline.

And here’s where the second America’s Funniest Video begins, for I am trying, trying, TRYING to get just one of the bags over the clotheslines. And it bounces off the lines. And it falls on my head. And then when I finally get it on the line, it is flannel side down and I need it to be flannel side up. You wouldn’t think this would be so difficult, but I am telling you, that wet bag is heavy and more than one person can wrangle gracefully! Hence the video.

I finally get it on the lines, flannel side up and the lines snap together which means that there is no air flow under the bag. Dang it! I wrestle the lines apart and then head to the car to get the other sleeping bag. This one goes on the line just as easy as you please. Thank you!

After all that, I head off to the lake for my walk, then a quick trip to JoAnn’s for some yarn, thinking, I’ve already put in a day’s work, I can craft this afternoon.

And then, on my way home I hear on the radio that there “might be some showers during the day today before tonight’s  thunderstorms.” ARGHHHHH!!! It was supposed to be 67 and partly cloudy with NO RAIN!!!!!!

I’ll be spending my afternoon on the porch, prepared to dash out to get the bags in case it rains.  Although I don’t know where I’ll put them if they’re still damp…

Something about best laid plans of mice and men…

Hope you are having better morning than I did! If not, remember there’s always coffee and chocolate!

Love,

Janet