By Saimi Bergmann
Oh, stubborness, thy name is male. They won’t ask for directions, won’t read directions, and won’t ask for help.
Thus, we found ourselves in a ridiculous situation that could have ended with us in the hospital… or on Funniest Home Videos.
Here’s what happened. Our RV does not have an attached ladder. On the second day of our trip to see New England fall foliage, a roof vent tore loose, so hubby had to get up onto the roof to repair it. Rather than ASK SOMEONE IN THE CAMPGROUND FOR A LADDER, he decides to build a tower… well, I’ll let the picture tell the story.
The tower wasn’t tall enough, so he added two plastic blocks on top of the stool, then I stood on the picnic table and laced my hands to give him a boost. Still no go because there was no ledge for him to grab. So, rather that ASK SOMEONE IN THE CAMPGROUND FOR A LADDER, hubby ties a rope to a tree on the other side, then throws it over the roof. He climbs back on the leaning tower of blocks, I lace fingers to give him a boost, and he uses the rope to pull himself up. Success!
Well, sort of. The weight on the rope dented the edge of the roof. Sigh. At least hubby was already up there to make the repair.
Sing it with me – “On the road again … can’t wait to get on the road again.”
We had to take a break from our travels to return to Ohio to sell our home of 20 years. I won’t lie, packing was a nightmare. And now our belongings are scattered between storage units in Canton, a friend’s attic in Alliance, our daughter’s home in Chicago, my parent’s home in Utah, and the RV.
But the house is sold, so we are officially fulltimers now. Or, as hubby says, officially homeless now!
Sing it Willie –
On the road again,
like a band of gypsies we go down the highway,
We’re the best of friends
Insisting the world be running our way.
We’ve all wondered: Why do tornados seem to target mobile homes and RV parks? Is it an electromagnetic thing – all that metal in one place?
It might only be urban legend. Perhaps RVs aren’t really hit any more often than brick and mortar homes, but the damage is so spectacular that it gets more notice. Even a wimpy tornado doesn’t seem to have any difficulty picking up an RV and sending it sailing like a fly ball to left field.
I’ll admit, when the wind picks up and starts rocking our house on wheels, as it did in Oklahoma City and in Amarillo, we get a teeny bit apprehensive. We also learned the importance of a firm grip on the entry door. A gust grabbed the door from my hands and slammed it against the canopy brace, punching a hole in the door panel. Hubby was NOT pleased.
I’ve since become quite the acrobat, flinging myself at the door handle if it slips away from me. I once had to leap sideways off the step, wrenching my back when I landed, but I saved that dadblamed door (please insert martyred look here).