Good morning from Greenwood, Louisiana.
We stopped at this park yesterday afternoon around 4:30pm and just about 350 miles. We’re somewhere on our newly modified route through Dallas on I-20, headed towards New Mexico and Arizona – back into the west from whence we came, returning to the nest. It’s not the nicest park… looks like the owner loosened the pursestrings for the pool and front office but maybe skimped on the pad grading and, for whatever reason, removed every single tree from the area. Unless this lot was already cleared, this seems like a poor business decision for an RV park in Louisiana, where days like today are in the 90s. Without any natural shade this place is more like a parking lot (a slightly un-level parking lot) than any kind of “park.” For $25 a night, though, it’s been one of our cheaper overnights.
Sharaun and Keaton are off showering at the facilities. I prefer to use the shower here in the vehicle. Small as it may be, I just love the whole self-contained notion of being able to do everything I need to do within this little space. Heck, I may not even put a shirt on before taking the wheel today… this thing is our home, after all. Since my morning routine is done I thought I’d write a bit while I drink my coffee. Cohen is playing on the floor; he loves Keaton’s Barbie laptop that she got from Grammy and Grandpa a Christmas ago or so, I’m glad it’s one of the limited number of toys she chose to bring along. He’s working on crawling down there, too; pushing and scooting and grunting with effort. I think it’d be kind of cool if he learned to crawl in the RV.
Last night I put the training wheels on Keaton’s new bike. Acquired in Destin, FL on clearance for some $40, it was meant to be. I used my Leatherman tool (thanks Erik) to do most of the job, y’know, like the cavemen who put training rocks on their daughters’ bigger rocks before me. Even though it’s a 20″ replacing her 18″, she claims to like riding it better – I think this may have to do with the fact that this bike is full-on pink instead of just pink-accented blue, but that’s one man’s opinion.
Last night I helped a guy fix his computer here in the RV park. He was in spot #13 I think. Let me tell you, RV folks run the gamut, and you should never pigeonhole these “trailer park” people. A classically trained pianist and retired traveling nurse, he is now looking to start touring with a group of Celtic singers. During the week he trades stocks online to keep his pockets fat. In fact, fiscal month-end being nigh is what complicated his computer woes and made him desperate enough to wander the park looking for an “expert.” When I told him it’s what I do, he exclaimed that the Lord had blessed him me bring here that one night. So, we walked back to his rig, an amazing homey-feeling deal with slide-outs and full accouterments, and I did the magic. Just another awesome road experience.
OK, the family should be coming back soon and I need to get this thing ready to go. Until later then.