Category Archives: Reviews

Fifty Point Conservation Area, Grimsby, Ontario

15 Wednesday Aug 2018

Posted by in Campground, Grace, Personal, R, Randomness, Travel

≈ 8 Comments

I wrote the name of this campground as Conversation Area initially, which really amused me. And it would be so apt! This is a lovely campground on the shores of Lake Ontario. Our site is a pull-through adjacent to another pull-through pointed in the opposite direction, so we’re very close to our neighbors but facing in opposite directions. Conversation would be easy, but is not required.

the sun setting over Lake Ontario

Last night’s view of the sun setting over Lake Ontario.

The campground itself is pretty much everything I like in a campground — grass, trees, water, sunlight, space, beautiful walking, a dog beach where Zelda can play, birds, including the world’s cutest woodpecker working on the tree by the picnic table this morning and some unidentified species sauntering through the grass. Even the bugs were cute — I have no idea what the one crawling on the sink this morning was, but it was green and tiny, with long legs. Maybe some kind of aphid?

Also lots of birch trees, and I’ve decided that the wind rustling through birch tree leaves really makes a unique noise — it’s not the same as wind rustling through other tree leaves. The birch leaves sound like they’re whispering. And tons of cricket noise last night, or maybe they were frogs? But the night was loud and seventy degrees, perfect summer feeling.

So yesterday was Niagara Falls. It was crazily tourist-y, in the way all the main tourist attractions seem to be. Amazing people watching, and frankly, pictures of people would be by far the best photographs from any of the tourist attractions. Preferably pictures of people taking pictures. I started amassing a little collection of those in my travels, but then I realized that I would never be willing to post them anywhere, because it would feel so rude to post a picture of a stranger, but yesterday’s collection of strangers would have been amazing. It reminded me of being at the southern-most point of the United States, in Key West — lots of tourists, people from all over the world, there just for the sake of being there. That said, they were some pretty cool waterfalls, no question about that. And it was such a hot day that it was pretty lovely to stand in the spray of the mist.

Zelda in a field of wildflowers in front of edge of Niagara Falls

You can just see the top of the falls in the background. In order to get a real view, you walk down a hill to the right of the photo, and join a mob of people clustered at a railing, all taking pictures. We liked the wildflowers better than the concrete platform, though.

We also saw my very earliest childhood home yesterday — only somewhat out of our way. The interesting thing about that was not so much how different the neighborhood looked from my memory — very different, and so much smaller — but that I had the address wrong. The day before, when I was failing to find my other childhood homes, I told R confidently that my early memories were the most reliable and that of all the different places I’d lived in during my childhood, the only one that I actually remembered the address of was the first. Wrong! I had the street right, but not the number. I’m not sure that means anything, except maybe that none of my memories are reliable. But I had a very different feel looking at that house than at the others, much warmer and cozier. I’m glad we drove by, even though it was a very long driving day for me. It was worth the stop.

Today we’re headed on to Toronto. Our mattress hunt yesterday failed — perhaps the influence of the bed bug revival? Thrift stores don’t seem to carry mattresses anymore, unfortunately. But we’re going to check out Ikea this afternoon, so fingers crossed for good luck there. Otherwise, R might be going to steal one of the mattresses from the van for a few days while he orders a mattress online or tries for a Craig’s List find. Either way, he’ll have something on which to sleep tonight.

And somehow it is already 10AM, which means it’s time to get moving. Lots to do today, but much, much enormous thanks to the readers who have reached out to tell me that they read Grace — your words brought me much joy this morning! R and I had pancakes (gluten-free, of course) to celebrate!

Green Lakes State Park, Manlius, New York

14 Tuesday Aug 2018

Posted by in Anxiety, Campground, R, Travel

≈ 10 Comments

Post our lovely time in Grand Isle, R and I had no specific plans, but he needs to be back in Toronto by Wednesday. Originally, I’d thought we’d wander slowly through Ontario, but after much discussion, we went for a slight change of plans and decided to take the southern route back to Toronto instead. It’s longer, because we’re swinging pretty far south to get below Lake Ontario and then go up the other side of the lake and around to get to Toronto, but it offered several advantages.

First, gas is enough cheaper in the US that the cost was probably close to the same. Second, R needs a cheap mattress for his new living situation and we’d like to buy it on the last day possible before arriving at his new place, ie Wednesday. US prices might be cheaper, so being in the US on Wednesday could be handy. Third, driving through the south opened up the possibility of driving by several places where I used to live — this area of upstate New York is where I mostly grew up and I haven’t really been back in decades. And fourth, Niagara Falls! Classic Americana road trip sight — the kind of thing that belongs on a list with the Grand Canyon and Mount Rushmore.

But along the way is Green Lakes State Park, a gorgeous park, very green and lush, beautiful lakes, pleasant treed campsites and really nice showers — the single room kind, where you have a door, plus control over the water temperature. The weather, typical of this oh-so-familiar area, is gray and gloomy, but we drove around for a while, passing by my old high school, three of the houses I lived in (one of which I couldn’t identify — best I could do was say, “sort of somewhere around here and now we must have passed it”), and the site of every bookstore and library that I loved. In fact, R’s impression of my childhood is probably that I did nothing but go to school and read books, because those are the only things that I remember. Although that said, I do vaguely remember this park as a place where we sometimes came to swim in the summertime.

a camper van in a spacious campsite

Our site at Green Lakes. Very green.

Perhaps it’s because I vaguely remember it that I’ve been feeling utterly phobic about poison ivy. I swear, every random leaf looks like a poison ivy leaf to me. Did I once get poison ivy in this park? Is that why I’m so paranoid?

That’s probably not it, though. Sometimes anxiety manifests as semi-irrational fears in order to shield our mind from less-irrational fears. In this case, I think I am struggling not to let last week’s attack turn into a serious dog phobia on my part. It was so fast, so out-of-nowhere, so aggressive and so brutal. My head still knows that dogs are our friends, but the back of my neck seems to be experiencing some post-traumatic stress, and while I try to talk myself out of it, I worry about poison ivy. Now that I’ve figured that out, maybe I’ll stop. Or maybe I’m actually right that all these random leaves are poison ivy and I’ll be hunting for remedies by the time we get to Canada.

Meanwhile, today is release day for A Gift of Grace. I’m trying not to let that stress me out — Niagara Falls, way better thing to think about! — but I’m not that zen. But I checked and double-checked the files, and I do know that it’s time to let go. So I’ll be working on that while I admire the big waterfall today. But I do hope that all of you reading Grace today enjoy yourselves!

Grand Isle State Park, Grand Isle, Vermont

13 Monday Aug 2018

Posted by in Campground, Food, R, Zelda

≈ 8 Comments

a beautiful Jack Russell terrier next to a tent

Zelda is healing well — eager to go for walks again and happy to greet the dogs we encounter on the way. Still limping a little, but not yelping when she jumps any more.

I made my reservations for Grand Isle State Park in Vermont several weeks ago. It’s the most popular state park in Vermont, on an island in Lake Champlain, and in my imaginary visit, there was much kayaking, some swimming, some hiking — several days of actual nature adventure. Real camping, not just living in a van.

My imagination did not include a limping dog.

Nor did it include human companions, in the form of my delightful son and my favorite cousin.

So things sort of balanced out, some bad, some good. I’m sorry to say that my kayak never touched the water, and neither did Zelda or I. R walked down to the beach and went swimming but it was too long a walk for Zelda.

We did, however, have a campfire one night and cook sausages over the fire, which was fun, and we went to a farmer’s market where I bought maple syrup, which felt very Vermont.

And the campground was as beautiful as I’d expected it to be. Vermont is gorgeous. This was my second visit, not nearly long enough, and it’s so green and hilly. I suspect that I wouldn’t like it nearly as much in winter, when I would be admiring the hills and wishing to be somewhere warmer, but in August, it’s lovely.

The campground was great, too. I wasn’t in love with our site (#96, for future reference) which was packed dirt, but it was huge and felt quite secluded, because it was surrounded and sheltered by trees. Total shade, with only tiny patches of sunlight. Z wandered from one sunlit patch to another as the day wore on. Some of the other sites are grassy and sunnier, so if I ever go back, I’ll aim for one of those (on the outside, for my own future reference).

The only real negative for me was the showers: coin-operated, no control over water pressure or temperature. Not my favorite and on our last day, the shower stole R’s coins and neglected to give him any water. He was not a happy camper.

Despite being less energetic than I’d planned, we had a very pleasant three days there. No electricity, so lots of reading and relaxing, and for me, lots of cooking fun food. We ate blueberry pancakes and bacon for breakfast one morning, scrambled eggs with avocado and cilantro and sausage another. I braved the fish smells and did sockeye salmon for dinner one night, with salads of mixed greens, avocado, pea pods, radishes, sunflower seeds, and lemon vinaigrette.

On one of the other days, I ate a nameless food — ground beef and rice cooked with turmeric, cinnamon, parsley, garlic, cilantro, chili sauce, and fresh cherry tomatoes. My description of it to R was so poor that he passed and ate leftover salmon, but he did take a bite after I’d cooked it and agreed that it was better than he’d been imagining. It actually was pretty delicious, although it felt like an ideal mid-winter food, rather than a deep summer food — rich and spicy and satisfying.

After five days, R is now my longest van companion. He says that he’s tired of hitting his head, which I sympathize with. I don’t know that he would ever want to drive around exploring the country anyway, but I am pretty sure if he did, he would like a taller vehicle. And I just asked him and he agrees, he would rather not spend a lot of time in this vehicle this size. The perils of being 6’4”!

But we’ve done pretty well together, I think — I was worried that after a few days of tripping over each other, I’d be getting cranky about having extra stuff in the way and he’d be getting cranky about me being cranky, but so far, so good. A second (and, briefly, third) person does mean a lot more dishes to wash, though, and that’s meant some minor tragedies. Yesterday I broke two of my favorite bowls, because I didn’t stow them properly when we were on the road, and I’ve been surprisingly sad about that. When you own almost nothing, the things that you own that you love become much more important, I guess. But I’m trying to remind myself that the universe has plenty of bowls, and maybe I’ll find some new ones that I love just as much.

Tomorrow is the release day for A Gift of Grace, and I’ve been meaning to write about that — some more about the book itself, maybe some about the things I learned writing it, some self-publishing thoughts about how the release has gone and what I’ve done, that kind of thing. But I spent a solid twenty minutes staring at a blank document and writing and re-writing some words and then decided that maybe that wasn’t going to happen. At least not yet. I’m doing a pretty good job of letting go of the anxiety and stress and tension that comes with releasing a creative baby into the world and I think I’d like to keep it that way. So instead, R and I are going to go do laundry. Exciting days!

Lake Saint Peter, Ontario

08 Wednesday Aug 2018

Posted by in Campground, Zelda

≈ 8 Comments

My resolution to write about every place I stay is taking a hit from moving too fast and being too stressed. For my own future reference, when I am trying to put together my Year Three itinerary eleven months and a couple weeks from now, I went from Allentown to:

Barber Homestead in Westport, NY (independent) for two days
Jacques Cartier State Park in Morristown, NY (state park) for two days
Cedar Beach Campground in Eganville, Ontario (independent) for two days
Lake Saint Peter Provincial Park in Lake Saint Peter, Ontario (province) for two days

This is not how I want to travel. It’s made worse right now because of Zelda, of course, because it’s not relaxing at all to be traveling with an injured dog. I was stressed yesterday about how pink her stitches looked, debating whether I should find a vet to take a look. Finally decided that the problem was probably that she was jumping too much and I’d wait and see. They look better today and she’s getting seriously restless. She’s still limping heavily, but she wants to go for her walks. She was ridiculously excited this morning when I got her leash out. Hmm, and I just remembered that I totally forgot to give her the painkiller she’s supposed to have this evening. Must do that.

But Lake Saint Peter first — I’m not going to remember this park, unfortunately. No walks means that we haven’t seen anything but our campsite. It’s a nice campsite, surrounded by trees, feels very private, even though there’s plenty of other campsites within hearing distance. Many ferns, many birch trees, and a generous supply of plants that look like they might be poison ivy, but I hope are not. There’s a total fire ban on, so no lovely smell of campfires at night, and it’s been overcast and rainy, so no stars either. I know that there’s a lake somewhere — I suspect it’s a nice lake — but it’s not within walking distance for a dog that can’t walk. So basically, I have been sitting inside the van, feeling tired and anxious.

trees and a campsite

Fortunately, it is a very peaceful view from the window.

Tomorrow, I head out to pick up R. I’ll get him first thing in the morning and then we’re going to make a long, long drive — over six hours — into Vermont. We’ll be camping at a state park there through the weekend, no electricity, but good company. And maybe Zelda will get to go to an animal acupuncturist, because of course they have those in Vermont.

Cedar Beach Campground

06 Monday Aug 2018

Posted by in Campground, Grace, Marketing and promotion, Mom, Personal, Zelda

≈ 5 Comments

In the distance — not so very far away at all, but obscured by trees and campers and people stuff — I can see a glimmer of blue. A lake. And I assume it has a nice beach, because this campground was, over the weekend, absolutely filled with families and kids having fun.

I, however, haven’t looked at it, because Zelda can’t really walk and she makes bad choices when left alone. Bad choices! I used to tell R, when I sent him off to do things with his friends as an early and then late-teenager, “Make good choices,” and eventually he said the same thing to me whenever I left the house. It always made me smile.

But I would scold Zelda with that phrase if I could. Alas, she wouldn’t understand. But if I leave her on the floor, she jumps onto the seats to look out the windows, and if I leave her on a seat, she jumps to the floor so that she can go try a different window. She wants to be able to see my return. So no walks for me, because every jump for her causes a yelp of agony and yet she refuses to not jump if I’m not immediately available to stop her.

I like my campsite, though. The campground is very much a seasonal place, a mix of permanent installations and trailers that look like they’ve been here for a while with some short-term spots. But there was a grassy row — I’d guess four campers could get squeezed in if necessary — that I had all to myself. With a cute family kitty-corner to me with three small kids and a brand-new trailer and very Canadian accents. They made me smile, too.

Today is seven years since my mom died. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately, about why she is the only person I want when I need to cry. She was a brisk mother. My ex once described her as “austere” to me, which I thought was totally wrong, but she did not suffer fools gladly and his experience of her was undoubtedly different than mine. But she could be quite dispassionate. I could cry to her and she would be warm and loving and sympathetic, but she wasn’t going to take on any of my pain and she was going to stop me as soon as she decided I was wallowing.

It occurs to me that maybe I said it best in my eulogy for her, so I’ll link to that: my eulogy for my mother.

But I didn’t need to be a grown-up with her. It wasn’t about love, it was about her endless ocean of calm. She was extremely good at pulling small children’s loose teeth, because she didn’t particularly care how much you fussed. If you were ready to have the tooth out, she was going to yank it. If you weren’t ready, she was going to shrug and leave you alone. I think she was probably an excellent nurse.

There’s a line in Grace — oh, a paragraph. I’ll quote it:

She wished she could talk to her mom. Just for half an hour. To hear her mom’s voice, to let herself be folded into her mother’s hug. She could imagine the sharp, searching look her mother would give her, followed by the, “Chin up, darlin’. That’s my girl,” words of approval.

Pretty sure my mother never, in my entire life, said those words to me or would have said those words to me. That wasn’t her language, and she wasn’t a southerner. But a look, a nod, a “You’ll be fine,” the confidence in me, but the hug, too. That was my mom. I miss her.

But no wallowing! Moving on, I’m on the road today, headed to a provincial park. Did I mention that I’m in Canada? I’m in Canada. It was fun being confused by the distances on the road signs — 88 miles to Ottawa? How did I get that so wrong! Oh, right, kilometers. Sigh of relief...

And today I’m looking forward to trying out a Canadian grocery store. I’ve eaten only snacks for the past two days — healthy-ish snacks, carrots and nuts and dried fruit and jerky and turkey slices — but I am ready to buy some ingredients and cook some real food.

So those are my goals for the day: get moving, go to a grocery store, eat some real food, and enjoy Canada. And not let Zelda hurt herself anymore. I’m not happy with how the stitches look, but I’m not yet so worried that I am searching for Canadian vets. And she’s putting weight on her foot now, so that’s a good sign.

Eight days until Grace releases. I’m trying not to be anxious about it, but I am. I try to avoid reading reviews, but you have to read the first few in case there are issues with the file or problems with the download. I’m going to bet myself a container of Sanders dark chocolate caramels with sea salt — extremely delicious, not at all good for me — that at least one of the first five complains about pronouns and Avery. If two or more do, I’m going to buy myself something even nicer, although I’m not sure what yet. Maybe a sushi dinner at a good sushi place. A win! (Although if you’re reading this, planning on reading Grace, and willing to write a review, don’t let this influence you, please. I know that people are going to complain about Avery, just the way people complained about not knowing that Henry was black in A Gift of Ghosts, but that doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it.)

Ooh, after 10 already, so time for me to get going. More about Grace soon! I’ve got some fun bookmarks to give away, so I need to think about how to do that. But check it out:

spine of book

That is one ridiculously thick book. By my standards, anyway. My sister-in-law’s review: “Oh, it’s so pretty!!!”

On the road/Barber Homestead Family Campground

03 Friday Aug 2018

Posted by in Campground, Travel, Vanlife

≈ 4 Comments

On Tuesday, I finally left Pennsylvania. I was a little torn when I started out — part of me wanted to stay in my comfort zone — but almost as soon as I was underway, I started feeling the thrill of being on the road again. I think I have some bio somewhere where I described myself as liking “cautious adventures” — setting off on a long drive, being on a strange road, wondering what comes next, it’s just fun. Even when it is going to be a long drive.

And I had a bizarrely nice experience on the road that I want to remember: I stopped for groceries at an Aldi in a town whose name I don’t know. It was just after the Malden Service area in New York State, and I had to drive on some little winding roads to find it, but then walking in, it was your basic Aldi. Maybe a little more run-down than most, with prices across-the-board slightly higher than most, but still the cheapest gluten-free cookies and decent Greek yogurt.

When I got to the check-out line, though, I went back and browsed some more because the line was so long. Finally, however, I bit the bullet and got in line, because it was not going to stop being long. I think I was probably the fifth person in the one-and-only line and before long there were several other people behind me. I couldn’t help noticing that it was a very diverse line. A couple young black guys, some older women, a Hispanic mom with kids, a person in a motorized cart… I don’t remember everyone, but it was a multicultural crowd — diverse by race, ethnicity, age, disability, everything.

And then a second cashier showed up and opened a new line. And people were so incredibly nice! There was no pushing, no rushing to get to the new line. There was much, “oh, you go first, you don’t have much,” and “no, no, you’ve been waiting longer.” I stayed in the old line, because the two people who already had things on the conveyor belt had lots of things, as did I, so I figured we could be the line of lots of things while the other line could be the quicker line, but the whole group of people just sort of organized ourselves that way. Kindly. Nicely. Generously. Politely. People spoke to one another and everyone was… respectful. Kind. Patient and friendly.

It was a seriously… well, honestly, a seriously odd experience. But lovely. Really, truly lovely. No one was impatient or hostile — we all just accepted that we were in this boat together and that we’d all get our turn eventually. And obviously, I can’t read minds — maybe some of the people behind me were fuming, maybe some of the ones that I wouldn’t have been able to hear were grumbling under their breath. But all the people around me behaved beautifully.

I’m not going to say it renewed my faith in the world, because despite all of the horrible things in the news every day, I’ve never lost my faith in the world. But I did sort of wonder whether we were all choosing to behave better because of all the horrible stuff in the news, because this seems like a time where we all feel helpless & overwhelmed, and being kind to a stranger of another race or culture is our own little match against the encroaching darkness. Or maybe it’s just a town of really nice people. That could be, too. I wish I knew the town’s name.

Post Aldi, I continued on to Westport, New York, to meet up with an online acquaintance from the Facebook Travato Owners group. Chrys is a fellow solo full-timer, closing in on her third year in her van, and an artist. She commented on a FB post of mine, something about our paths someday crossing, and I realized our paths were pretty close to crossing right now, so we made someday today.

She was staying at an independent campground, the Barber Homestead Campground on Lake Champlain. I mostly avoid the independents in favor of state parks or ACoE campgrounds, but I was so glad I didn’t in this case. My spot (#37) was great, possibly the only site with an actual water view. The showers were fantastic — clean, great water pressure, lots of hot water, and the individual room model, so you’re not actually showering in a place that strangers can walk in and out of. I like that in a shower. I also wound up doing laundry, because there were two laundry machines, reasonably priced at $1.50 per load. There was a pavilion with picnic tables, nice walks, tons of wildflowers, a beautiful 1800s school house, a gorgeous lake, an arts-and-crafts festival happening in the town…

And a new friend, too. I imagined, I suppose, that Chrys and I would meet up, chat for an hour or two over dinner, talk about Travatos and our travels and the FB group, and then wish one another well, wave good-bye, and anticipate meeting again on the road someday, maybe at one of the larger FB group meet-ups. Instead, she fed me delicious zucchini noodles over quinoa while we talked for MANY hours, until it got dark and the bugs were nibbling. And the next day we went to the arts-and-crafts festival together. And then had dinner together again and talked for many more hours. She’s a person who makes friends everywhere she goes, and so has great stories, a great attitude, a great approach to life. It was such a pleasure to meet her and get to spend time with her.

view out the van window

Room with a view

I didn’t get any particularly good pictures: in fact, most of them look out-of-focus. Since I’m using my phone — which doesn’t actually require me to focus! — I think that means I need to clean my lens. But I should do that soon, because I have already moved on from Barber Homestead and am at a state park in New York, my first NY State Park. I want to take lots of pictures. It’s fun and nostalgic and unfortunately, I’m going to have to write about it some other time, because the campsites don’t include electricity and my laptop battery is just about dead. So much to write about, so little… well, electricity. I’ve got the time, just not the charge. More soon!

Proud Lake State Recreation Area, Michigan

30 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by in Campground, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

My blueberries were rotten this morning. I bought them yesterday, carefully scoping out the packages for one that looked good, but it was wasted effort. They were tasteless, some already soft and squishy. I didn’t see any positive signs of mold, but I was highly suspicious.

I decided to take it as a sign from the universe.

The reason I was looking for signs was this:

That is literally the view from the window by my bed. To say that it makes me cranky would be an understatement. To say that it makes Zelda uneasy would also be an understatement. I am fairly sure she can hear the hum of the lines, especially at night when they sizzle a little because of the moisture in the air. She wanted to go out over and over and over again last night, but every time I took her out, she wanted to stand and stare into the darkness.

It was pretty impressive darkness, actually — fireflies, a full moon, stars. I should give credit where it is due!

But this campground is one designed for family parties with lots of kids in tents. My site has the most extreme slope of any site I’ve ever tried to park on, so much so that my water jug actually slowly slid off the counter last night and landed on the floor. A tent camper might be able to find a slightly level patch, or a big trailer with levelers might be able to cope, but for me, it’s quite unpleasant. Plus, it’s in full sunlight — no shade at all, just a grassy patch — and it’s supposed to go up to 96 degrees today. The van is going to be an oven.

All that added up to me trying to decide what I wanted to do this morning. I’ve hated looking for campgrounds in Michigan. There’s a specific campground layout — straight lines all in rows — that after two years of camping makes my lips curl back in distaste. Give me some nice cul-de-sacs any day.

I’m also extremely wary of big campgrounds — once you’ve got 150 campsites all lined up in rows, you’re basically looking at traffic, people, crowds, noise, barking dogs… I think for the people with boats and kids, it can still be a nice way to vacation, but I’m not on vacation. I’m looking for quiet campsites, privacy, solitude, and beautiful views. I love the trees and the birds and the starry nights, but I don’t need good places to let the kids run around with their cousins while the grown-ups sit by the fire and drink beer. The Michigan State Parks — at least the ones with availability for people who don’t plan their destinations six months in advance — have all looked like family vacation spots, not comfortable writing nests.

And meanwhile, I have a comfortable writing nest. One that comes with fresh blueberries, excellent company, lots of privacy, and the chance of fun with my niece. Oh, and where my electricity is given to me freely instead of costing me $28/night.

The only problem with it is that it’s 10 hours away.

I think, therefore, that I should stop writing and get on the road. The universe, after all, gave me lousy blueberries this morning and the message came in loud and clear.

Maumee Bay State Park

28 Thursday Jun 2018

Posted by in Campground, Zelda

≈ 2 Comments

Deer and bunnies and redwing blackbirds, lush green grass and huge campsites, trees and terrific hikes and an enormous lake nearby… of the four Ohio state parks where I’ve camped, Maumee Bay, near Toledo, is by far the nicest. I could happily stay here for weeks, I think.

The one negative is the bugs. There are tons of them. I try to remind myself that bugs are a symbol of a healthy eco-system and no bugs would mean no redwing blackbirds, but still… not a bug fan.

And alas, one of the bug problems turns out to be a problem that it’s too late to worry about, at least to some extent. There were warning notices at the front desk about ehrlichiosis — a tick-borne disease — and how to avoid getting it and what symptoms to watch for. Unfortunately, Zelda was diagnosed with the disease an hour earlier at the vet. So I guess I can worry about catching it myself, but I don’t have to worry about Zelda getting it. She’s on antibiotics and I’m trying not to obsess too much. Or to think that if I’d never moved into a van, never started traveling, she would never have encountered whatever tick made her sick. Those thoughts are not useful thoughts.

Tomorrow I’m headed to Michigan. Still not done with Grace — I’ve spent hours and hours of writing time on a single page in the past week. I thought I knew how something ended — thought I knew it for a long, long time — but when it came down to it, it just didn’t work the way I wanted it to. Or I couldn’t make it work the way I wanted it to. But I think today I finally let go of that section and moved on.

And now I’ll do the same with this blog post. 🙂

Edited to add: At the vet’s office, Zelda was the third Zelda they’d seen in two days, but the other two were both, “Zelda, Princess of Hyrule.” I heard that and said (of course), “But my Zelda is the Princess of Hyrule!” She was, in fact, named after Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, I just never used the full name. But I’m totally adding it now.

Van Buren State Park

25 Monday Jun 2018

Posted by in Campground, Personal, Randomness, Serenity, Travel

≈ 6 Comments

moon over a campground

Yesterday, I was midway through an entirely reasonable drive — three hours or so — when I decided I was too tired to keep going. So I didn’t.

I stopped at a rest stop, took a quick nap, then looked for a different, closer campground. I told myself that stopping early meant that I would have plenty of time to do useful things: work on Grace, write a blog post, sort my photos from the past several (busy) days, clean the van, wash the dishes, plan my next week’s destinations, walk Z, talk to R…

On that list of things, I walked the dog. That, I assume, is because she’s the only one of those things capable of nudging me in the leg and saying, “seriously, get moving now.”

Apart from that, I… honestly, I don’t know. Used up my time, anyway. I think I finished a jigsaw puzzle that took me far longer than it should have, and I know I made guacamole and salad dressing for my dinner. Oh, and I defrosted my freezer, which was urgent, because it had frosted over so heavily that I couldn’t get my chicken out. I then didn’t wind up eating the chicken, because it was so very frozen, but hey, it’s good to remember that I did something useful, however minor it was.

I did want to sort my photos, so I could post some pictures of the weekend, but I’ve used up my data plan for the month, so it would have been tedious to try to post pictures anyway. That’s to make me feel better about the failure. 🙂

But Tuesday of last week, I left my brother’s house and headed to my aunt and uncle’s. We had a nice visit — good walks, delicious food, ice cream at the famous State College Creamery, lots of conversation — and then on Thursday, I started on my way to Ohio.

My plans for Thursday/Friday were pretty vague: I’d been planning to maybe try to meet up with a stepsister and her family for kayaking and outdoor adventures. But the rain was torrential, so instead I camped for a night at Barkcamp State Park, right over the West Virginia border into Ohio.

I have absolutely nothing to say about Barkcamp. I got there in the evening, at almost 7, and it was raining. I left there around noon the next day, and it was raining. In between, I didn’t check out the trails, the bathrooms, the views, the utilities — I sat in the van and watched the rain. It was nice rain and a cozy day, but my opinion of Barkcamp is that it was very wet. I’m sure I’d have a different opinion under different circumstances. I should have taken a picture of the two inch deep puddle around my electricity pole, because it would have been an appropriate representation of my experience there. But I didn’t, because it was raining and I was wet and not interested in getting my phone wet.

After I left Barkcamp, I goofed around. Target, CostCo, parking lot adventures. I was headed to my stepbrother’s house for my stepmother’s 80th birthday party, planning to spend the night in their driveway, but I didn’t want to get there until after my dad and stepmom arrived, because my stepbrother doesn’t know me from Adam. Well, didn’t — I’ve now spent most of a weekend at his house, and he and his wife were warm and welcoming, so I’d feel a lot better about showing up alone at their house if I was doing it today. But on Friday, I didn’t want to do that. Alas, best-laid plans, and all that: C and my dad were delayed in a cell phone dead zone, so I had a chance to get to know my (warm, welcoming) stepbrother and his wife on my own.

Saturday was C’s birthday party. I really would love to post some pictures, because it was gorgeous. Pinterest-worthy in a major way. J, my stepsister-in-law, obviously worked really hard and has an eye for beautiful details, plus a green thumb. Or at least an ability to keep a lovely garden thriving and blossoming — the number of different flowers all in bloom was very impressive to me.

Fifty-some people came, including C’s brothers and a cousin and maybe a couple of their kids, plus seven of her children & stepchildren and some spouses, approximately thirteen of her grandchildren plus some spouses, and maybe seven great-grandchildren. Lots of food, lots of kids playing in the yard, and a day that after threatening more rain turned out to be beautiful.

Trying to think of the moments I would like to remember: a cousin of sorts (technically, I suppose, some sort of nephew) brought a drone and the whole party gathering on the porch for aerial photos. Sitting around the dinner table in the evening laughing about gout/misheard phrases. Stumbling across one of the kids who’d retreated to the house and was playing quietly by herself, and admiring her self-care instincts. Showing off Serenity to various people and wishing I’d washed the dishes and swept the floor. Helping M with flowers and later getting a chance to tell her how much I love her mom and how grateful I am for her presence in my life.

One of my stepbrothers — step-step brother, maybe? one of my stepmom’s first set of step-kids, anyway — and his wife managed to convince me that I really shouldn’t miss my chance to drive along the north shore of Lake Huron so I might be changing my travel plans to spend more time in Canada. I need to figure that out soon, I suppose, but it doesn’t have to be today. Fortunately, because somehow I am still really tired, far more tired than I ought to be.

And today is not going to be the day I would like it to be, because I need to get back on the road. Z has a vet appointment this afternoon — just for shots, not because her health has taken a downturn — so I’ve got some driving to do. And no set destination for the next few days. On Friday I’ll be in Michigan and all the people that I thought I was visiting there are either busy or non-responsive, so it’s probably going to be a much less sociable month than I anticipated, but that’s feeling sort of okay. Despite not being able to write for a few days and having spent far more time in PA playing video games than I should have, I’m feeling good about my progress on Grace. And looking forward to a few quiet days with nothing to do but focus on Noah and Grace and Dillon and Rose and bringing them all to their happy endings.

Oh, but I meant to write about Van Buren. I like it. I suspect it makes people driving big rigs and hauling big trailers sad, because the sites are not the biggest, but tent campers probably adore it. My own site has a nook — there is no other word for it — a little path into the woods and a space under a big tree that feels like wilderness, even though it is so not. It would be a fantastic place to place a tent. Or even a chair for some quiet time spent breathing in the green. Although given my current state of allergies and Ohio’s current state of bugs (soooo many flies!), I probably wouldn’t really enjoy it. There also seem to be plenty of trails, but all that rain has made them very muddy trails. I’ve walked a few steps into them and looked down at my little white dog, considered how excited I am about having a muddy little white dog (not) and not taken advantage of them, but if I was here for a few days, I definitely would appreciate all the places to wander. I don’t think there are showers, though, and no water hook-ups, so it’s probably not a place I’d want to stay for more than a few days anyway, even if I didn’t have to get on the road to bring Z to the vet.

And the other thing I wanted to at least mention is that today is the 2nd anniversary of Serenity’s arrival in my life. Later, maybe I’ll write some profound things about what I think as Year 2 draws to a close, and maybe a month from now, when it’s actually my second anniversary of being on the road, I’ll write more of a summary of the year, but today… well, it’s been a ride, that’s for sure.

Salthouse Branch Recreation Area

29 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by in Campground, Zelda

≈ 2 Comments

Why is driving so exhausting?

I guess that’s a rhetorical question: the answers are sort of obvious. But there’s a reason most people don’t spontaneously say, “Hey, let’s go for a three hour drive today, won’t that be fun?” Or a four-hour drive, or a seven-hour drive. And driving slowly — with breaks of a day or two between chunks of long driving days — doesn’t make the experience any better. Crazy ten-hour days of driving require recovery days but so, apparently, do five-hour driving days. At least for me.

But I broke my drive from South Carolina to Pennsylvania by stopping for two nights at Salthouse Branch Recreation Area in Henry, Virginia. It was about five hours from Santee — albeit closer to seven with stops for gas, dog walks, and lunch, so I got there on Friday with plenty of time to relax. Along with all the rest of the people in the state who wanted a nice relaxing Memorial weekend Friday. I believe I complained that at Santee I could see my neighbor’s trailer instead of a nice view? At Salthouse Branch, I could see eleven trailers from the van door. At that, it was still nicer than a typical independent parking-lot style campground: my site was small and not level but at least there were grass and trees and beautiful water within walking distance.

path into woods

Also some nice looking trails, but I did not take advantage of them. It was a bad combination of circumstances. First, I was tired — long driving days do that to me. Second, it was hot enough that I didn’t want to wear long pants and socks and hiking boots. And third, although also relevant to the second point, there were ticks. So many ticks that I was literally flicking them off the water hose and steps. Given the number of tick-borne diseases that I’m scared of, bare legs in the woods felt like a no-brainer level of stupid thing to do. So we admired the above path, but we didn’t go very far on it.

Also, there were dogs. Not on the trails, but in the campground. Lots and lots of dogs. Oh, my gosh, the dogs. I like dogs (obviously.) But at least some of these dogs’ owners had given up on keeping their dogs quiet and there were so many dogs in the campground that there was a continual dog chorus going on. Two brown labs behind me needed to say hello to every passing visitor and the little black dog across from them felt compelled to respond. The park was completely full, so there were a great many passing visitors.

Zelda never barked once. I would be a smug dog owner about that — my good dog! — but she’s losing her hearing (sadly, another symptom of canine dementia), so I think she probably just didn’t hear them. She’s also gone back to being ridiculously picky about her food. Yesterday, she declined steak for breakfast in favor of a couple bites of my niece’s breakfast cereal. I will seriously feed this dog anything that she wants, but she changes her mind about what that is on an hourly basis. But her energy level is great and she’s been enjoying playing with toys again, so I’m not worrying too much.

And I’m now in Pennsylvania, where I will be staying for the next three weeks. Less driving, more family time, yay! And hopefully some writing (finally!!) of an emotionally satisfying romantic ending. I’m as close as I’ve ever been with finishing a first draft and I have no impulse to go back and start re-writing, so that’s good news. Now if I could just get on with it!