Menu Home

RV-Able: Backed Up

It is literally days from departure, and the preparations have been, as they say, mighty.  Yesterday, we finished off some business with the bank, picked up something for my Mom and had a farewell dinner with my sister.  We were not able to complete all the tasks we’d set for ourselves, because a) I am under the weather, and b) it snowed.

Although we live in Canada, the arrival of the white wintry stuff always seems to catch us by surprise.   People are never prepared.  The temperature had plummeted so much that puddles froze and some roads were slippery, thus creating extra traffic jams.  By the time we headed back to the RV for the night, it was minus twelve celsius.  Brrr.

Exhausted, I hunkered in for the night, while Ric graciously prepped the vegetables for today’s potluck – a last hoorah with the kids till we return.  We discussed at length how today would unfold:

  • Ric would get up ahead of me, heat up the coach and cook the bacon.
  • I would wake up to a warm bus, have a shower, then prepare the rest of the food for the potluck.
  • We would head into town early to see my mom.
  • Arrive at daughter’s by 3:00 pm
  • Spend the night with my son, so I can meet with friends tomorrow.

Ric woke up before me, but I didn’t hear any movement, nor smell the aroma of bacon cooking.  Glancing at the clock, I decided I better get going.

“I’m not going to stay at Jay’s tonight,”  I told him through the bathroom door.  “I had a terrible night, and am really not feeling well.  I’ll have to cancel with my friends.”

“There’s a problem with the toilet,” came the reply.  “Some kind of blockage.”

I hobbled into the kitchen area.  Dishes from yesterday still littered the sink.  I started in on them.

“Do you need to do that now?”  then: “I’ll cook the bacon after you finish.”

I like order when I cook, he is oblivious.

“Okay?”  I cleared out of his way. “Can I turn the heat up?”  It was still only 68 degrees Farenheit.

He looked at me crossly, as if to say:  Why on earth not?

“For some reason the black tank is showing full,” Ric mumbled from the front of the bus.  “How can that be?  I just emptied it yesterday.”

“Can I start cooking?”

“No.  I need to fill the propane. Can’t do that until 11:00.”

“Can I shower?”

“No.  Wait till I get the sewage problem is sorted out.

“I have to use the toilet.”

He pauses.  What can he say?  “Just don’t flush.”

“This is quite the predicament.”

“It is!”

So here I am, 11:45 am, writing this blog entry, trying not to panic, reminding myself that RVing is about flexibility, much like marriage.

He is outside slamming doors and rustling about for solutions.  I am back in bed.  It’s damn cold.

Next year, we should leave earlier.

Advertisements

Categories: marriage nonfiction RV-Able travel

Tagged as:

V.J. Knutson

Writer, avid reader, former educator, and proud grandmother, currently experiencing life through the lens of ME/CFS. Words are, and always have been, a lifeline. Some of the best adventures, I'm discovering, take place in the imagination.

4 replies

Add a thought...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: