My dahlias are gone. The freezing nights have taken them away. The cosmos have also succumbed ....... it is almost November. Today the sun was shining and it was a balmy 68. So I started cleaning up my garden beds and getting them ready for a long winter's nap.
I have cosmos everywhere. I don't actually plant them as much as I toss a handful of seed in various places in my gardens where I want some late summer blooms. This results in massive seedlings in one spot. I used to thin them, but I now just let them grow, created a hedge of blooms. The stems can be as big as corn stalks. When they turn brown, they are not attractive and don't just wilt down to the ground. If I leave them, I have to yank them up and clean the beds come Spring.
So, Sunday afternoon I decide to tackle them. Some of them pulled up easily and some I have to use the limb trimmers. I ended up with a huge pile as tall as me. I tried loading them on the back of the golf cart and the wind kept taking them down. The tiny, pointy seeds were in my hair, my socks, inside my shirt ........ everywhere. I was happy when the sun started to sink and the temperature began to fall. I earned every drop of the hot shower!
Today I knew I had to tackle that pile of dead cosmos. First I mowed the back yard and pondered the sticky problem. My wheelbarrow is in use at the dog park and my golf cart trailer was full of firewood, destined for the woodpile in my backyard for winter use. Are you wondering why I didn't simply take it into the back yard and stack it? Because the old cast iron wood stove is in the way and try, though I might, I can't move it. I know I could have emptied the trailer and reloaded it later, but I am loathe to handle the wood more than I have to.
The wind was light today, so I took my long handles weeding tool that doubles as an apple picker for those apples above my arm's reach, and grabbed a big bundle of weeds and pulled it beside me as I drove the golf cart. It was light enough that my shoulder did not pop out. I made several trips and burned debris all day long.
As I rounded the pile the last time to stick the tines into the tangled branches a new thought popped into my head .......... Golf Cart Polo! All that would be needed is some hockey sticks and a ball and a bunch of senior citizens on golf carts! Just remember, this was my idea! I thought of it first.
Oh how I have missed venting on here! Sometimes you just have to tell someone about a crappy day!
It all began with a phone call. I always identify our business upon answering the phone and admit that I find it annoying when the caller asks if this is Kan-Do Kampground. Even more so when they ask a boatload of questions and make a reservation, then say they thought they were talking to a different campground. I have become accustomed to it and was not surprised when the caller asked yesterday.
After confirming that she was talking to the campground she had called (don't they look at the name with the number?) she announced that she was Josephine Blow ( Joe Blow's wife) and wanted to know if I remembered her. I gave her the same answer I give everyone, that I am sure I would remember her face, if not her her name. Well, they camped here 2 years ago ......... I said nothing, wondering if this was supposed to be a clue or if she was simply reminiscing. It was a clue. "We stayed in site 51 .......... it was $15.00 a night." I have no category of $15.00 and told her so. Then she told me that it was a big rig, 50 amp and that she clearly remembers paying $15.00 per night. This memory escapes me just like it never happened.
She wanted the same site for tonight and when they arrived I gave her that site. She a bit miffed that I wouldn't give it to her for $15.00, but we finished the transaction and her husband came in to get the map and instructions from me. "Are you sure our rig can go in that site, it is 40 feet long!!" I assured him that it would indeed fit. She then asked if the trees would touch them. I must have had a dumb look on my face, as I was thinking "not unless you run into them".
Finally they leave and I lock up for the evening. The site they chose was electric only. There is a hydrant on the site, but we turn the water off when the temperature drops to freezing, as it is now. I heat up my dinner and sit down to my solitary meal (He Who tows is doing just that). Thankful for a quiet moment, with the canine contingent outside for the time being, I am enjoying my beef and broccoli when the phone rings .........
Josephine Blow is outraged. "We have no water!" I explain the concept of frozen pipes and she seems to not comprehend. I tell her I can turn it on long enough for her to fill her holding tank, but that I won't leave it on all night. Deep sigh, then "Hold on and let me tell my husband." I wait as she repeats everything I have just said to him.
"Do you have another site?" I tell her that the only 50 amp full hook-up site left is site 6. "Where is that?" she asks. I ask her if she might still have the map I gave her ........ "Hold on." I wait again. "I see it on the map, but how do we get there?" (May I suggest that you drive?). I go over the route with her and then she says ...... "Hold on, let me ask my husband." After a lengthy consult with the husband and many reassurances that they should fit just fine I am released from the phone once again to reheat my meal.
Yes, the phone rings again. "There is a black truck in site 6 and a camper in site 7. You said site 7 was empty and that we would be able to pull through!" This delivered in a tattle-tale voice. I don't hide my annoyance and tell her I will be there in a minute to have the truck moved. I arrive on my golf cart with my lights shining on the site. I knock on the door of site 4 and ask the tenant to move his truck. He apologizes and rushes out to move his vehicle. In the meantime I am once again asked if their rig will fit. This time by the husband, no phone between us this time.
I can't help myself as I point out that site 7 is empty. Just as I said it would be. "Are you sure my rig will fit in here, it is 40 feet long!" I tell him that the rig in 4 is 44 feet long. He tells me I am mistaken that it is at least 10 feet shorter than his ......... He is joined by the wife and they are now concerned about the trees and the need for me to trim the branches. The wife says they would be better off parking at WalMart, so I tell them I would be more than happy to refund them and they can be on their way.
My tenant moved his truck and apologized that I lost a camper. Not his fault, I was sincere when I said I would be more than happy to offer a refund. I know when I have lost. There was no way I could have satisfied Joe Blow and his obedient wife. It took them a good 20 minutes to come in for the refund. Just the wife. She tells me that her husband did not want to fill the holding tank and then have to empty it in the morning, because he remembers that our sewer didn't work 2 years ago when they were here ....... Two years ago, when they rented a site for $15.00. The site she "remembered" was a site with no sewer. Could be why it didn't work. My appetite was gone by then. Tums for dessert. Tomorrow will be better.
Pictures! Not good pictures. I chopped Richard's head off in my attempt to capture the dead tree he took down with his bare (well, gloved ...) hands.
This is the underbrush that was removed for the dog park. Thick, thorny underbrush.
My job was to transport the debris to the dump site.
At the end of day one we have made some serious progress and discovered persimmon trees. Check out that vine wrapping around the tree.
Suddenly the Internet is working!! I doubt Sprint did anything. Maybe it is the freezing temperature .... who knows.
Tomorrow is our annual chili/soup cook-off. I have located the charger for my camera. It was right where I had left it, behind the cash register. I remember leaving it there now after telling myself that I would be sure to remember that location. Left it there again and now I have recorded it. All I need to do now is to remember that I posted it here ....
Try, though I might, I cannot download the pictures I wanted to accompany this post. I am seriously considering sitting in McDonald's parking lot ..........
But, then I remind myself that I am PAYING for Internet. Paying for something that only works intermittently. I may or may not be able to actually publish this upon completion. Might have to make several tries throughout the day. Sprint claims to be addressing the issue by upgrading the satellite. In the meantime, I am "roaming" on AT&T. To add insult to injury, Sprint decided to text us to let us know we were out of roaming minutes ......... at 2:30 AM.
Exciting things have been happening here at the kampground. The dog park is going up. It will be a rather large one, plenty of room for your canine friend to run and play. There was a clump of interesting trees I wanted to incorporate into the area for some shade. The first order of business was to clear the underbrush from the trees. Took two days and I took photos. There were some wicked vines choking the trees.
Some trees were removed to allow the others to grow. Discovered persimmon trees growing there. The foliage on the vines looked pretty innocuous, but since I was handling it I used my Fels Naptha soap when I showered. Knowing how poison vines are so attracted to me I went for the ounce of prevention. Didn't use the harsh soap on my face or hair. Perhaps I should have. I have a small patch of poison something on my forehead.
Small price to pay for the lovely area we created. If only I could rip away the vines that are interrupting my Internet service .........
Still waging war with Sprint. M wi-fi has been down again. I get a message from Sprint when I try to log on telling me I have exceeded my roaming minutes. I am standing still and I can see the tower with their satellite from my front "yard".
I can also see AT&T's satellite on the same tower and if their signal strength is so weak that AT&T is having to pick it up, then it is their problem .....
But, I have a new vehicle! Isn't it cute? Our truck finally crapped out and we got a deal on this. When I say "we", I mean He Who buys cars. I have not bought a vehicle in over 40 years. I have no input in the transaction or choice of model or color. I don't really care as long as it is safe and dependable. But, I don't even put fuel in the vehicle I drive either. That is the job of He Who bought it!
I have been driving the VW for over 10 years and I like it just fine. It has all the bell and whistles, cruise control, heated seats and such. Lacks a good sound system, but for the mpg I get, that is excusable. But ........ I like the new car better. It is a rule that the woman should have the better vehicle, right? No? Well, it is a rule in this house.
Have I driven it yet? No. My maiden voyage was to take place last week. Car wouldn't start. Battery was dead. New battery has fixed that. I am wondering if that is an omen. Look closely at what is holding the hood up. Yes, a child size shovel. Stolen from my gourd headed family of scarecrows on the front of the building. This vehicle is defective, lacking the thingy that holds the hood open for whatever it is that goes on under there. Do I really want this car?
"Is there a road that goes to the site?" asks the man as he stands looking at the map. The roads even have cutesy frog names. Bullfrog Boulevard, Ribbett Road, Tadpole Alley ........ with road signs.
The woman had called me three times that day, keeping me apprised of their whereabouts. Various questions, such as "What do I do when I get there?" made it clear to me they were new at this. I explained in detail what to do upon entering the park. Told her where the night drop box was located and told her instructions were posted, as well as map to the park. She called again to tell me there were 10 feet tall and wanted to know if they would "fit". I once again assured her that we we were "big rig" friendly and that she would have no problem fitting in the assigned site.
I was closed when they came in. I confess that I saw the headlamps and knew it must be them, but did not open the door. Instead I texted He Who has more patience than I and asked him to come up and guide them in. He did and that is when the road question was asked. He sent them in the right direction and came inside, assuming they had dropped the registration in the drop box, along with payment.
You know that old saying about assumptions ...... I should not be surprised at all that my instructions were not followed, should I? They are still here and I will get payment, it just annoys me that I will have to go ask for it.
I have been in a state of agitation all week. I have had an amazing amount of requests for permanent sites. People who find themselves in foreclosure, or down on their luck. I feel for them, but .......
I have monthly rates and can certainly accommodate permanent campers. That is not the problem. The problem is the junkers they pull up in. It is like they scoured the country side for abandoned trailers and then decided they would live in them. Problem is that I can't let them park here. If I do, I lose business. Hard to tell people their home looks crappy.......... but, this is, after all, a business.
Last Monday I opened the door to my establishment to find a questionable trio upon my threshold. The woman had called and inquired about monthly rates. The fact that I told her what they were did not insure I would welcome them into the park. She announced that they were here to set up. I looked beyond them to see the camper they planned to live in.
It was an older fifth wheel. Not in good shape. Filthy and a tarp covering the roof. Before I could stop myself I told them the camper was too old and in too poor shape to allow them to stay here. I am usually more diplomatic, but, there it was. The man said he understood, leading me to believe I was not the first campground to send them on their way.
So, imagine my surprise when I answered the phone to find the same man who said he understood on the other end of the line. I told him that I was eliminating older, unkempt units when I tried to buffer my initial reaction. He seemed to think he should find the title to this camper and prove to me it wasn't "old". He thought I would reconsider, since it was a 1996 model.
I had not named a cut-off year and he apparently did not hear what I said about unkempt. I was pretty sure this was the same group I had spoken with last Monday, but I asked if I had seen this 1996 camper and he replied that I had seen it last week. I said, "I am sorry, but the answer is still no." Then he said, "But it isn't old, it is a 1996."
"Just to be sure, you came in with this camper last week. It is a fifth wheel, not in very good shape with a tarp covering the roof ......." I said to the hopeful owner of the 1996 fifth wheel. "Yes, that's the one, and it isn't a 1986, like I thought, so can we come in now?"
It is going to be a long, long week.
The tiger lilies were looking so sad ...... full of dead leaves, blooms long gone.
A little grooming and they perked up. All the dead leaves and stalks removed and they are standing tall and proud again.
I carefully gathered all the leaves and stalks. This is the second bag, by the way.
Instead of spending money on straw, I used my salvaged lily leaves and made my gourd head man to sit upon my porch. Along with two others, he sits on my old church pew and greets campers.
I have some new campers staying here for the next month or so, working in the area. One of them called me Saturday, saying he was "trying to figure out how to get on this Internet". I told him how and he said he just needed it to watch TV.
I told him that he couldn't stream movies because it would use all the band width and knock everyone else off. He then told me not to worry, it wasn't movies, it was Netflix. Really, really can't make this stuff up.
