Notes From The Road

We've posted several of these quips on Facebook over the past two months, most of them sprinkled with humor. One of our family members once said, "... if you can't laugh at yourself at least once in a while, then you're in deep... ya know." Still rather prolific after all these years. That's one thing we have embraced while traveling on this 2500+ mile (so far) jaunt to way south of the Mason-Dixon line - is to laugh, laugh often, as well as to laugh at ourselves. If we didn't, we would've never made it.

Now we're not saying that it takes laughter alone to get from point A to B. It also takes more than just money. Here's a few notes from the road we would like to pass along, especially to other newbies like us who are learning a few things the hard way:

1). Not all campers are created equal. There's more to this than meets the eye - or checkbook. If and when you decide to take the RV plunge, even if it's only for 2-3 months a year, you don't necessarily need to spend a great deal of money on an RV. This will tick off any RV dealer and/or sales-person, but the old adage of "money doesn't buy everything" is dead on in this case. As long as the rig meets your needs & utility, and you really like it (living in it and all), then it doesn't matter if you spend $5,000 or 105,000 dollars. We know of some fellow campers who own a rather expensive 5th wheel that's only three months old and they're already experiencing difficulties with the campers hydraulic system as well as interior trim peeling off. Our Nomad, including purchase price and repairs, and not counting fuel, has cost us approximately $3500 total bill. Yes, he squeaks and rattles a little and is at the lowest percentile in regards to technology, but overall, our little motorhome has been a very dependable and reliable vehicle - never mind it's 36 years old.

Bottom line - more does not always equal more.

2). Not all campgrounds are created equal. Even if it's a "chain" like Jellystone or KOA's, you will run

across the gamut. Why? Simple - they are owned, managed, and staffed by humans. In our experience, it's the people who not only work the campground, but also the people staying there that can make or break your stay, regardless of the length. Unlike real estate, it's not just about location. There's also safety in numbers - never overlook spending the night (or even catching a few zzz's) at a decent truck stop or at a Wal-Mart. They are well lit, have security cameras, and there are always other campers and/or truckers parked there with the same idea you have. Again, in many cases, location is not the primary objective.

3). Hit the pause button. Unless you absolutely have to be at a certain destination by a certain date, take the time to stop somewhere (preferably a campground in this case) for at least a few days to a week, if not longer, if you can manage it. We've talked to numerous campers and they all agree - you just can't drive day after day, mile after mile. You need to stop and take a breather for at least a few days. Otherwise, you start to get a little squirrely. Before long, you're unsure what day it is, what town you're in, and just how many days in a row you've worn those blue jeans, socks and shirt.

4). Socialize. We know everyone is not a social butterfly, but it is important to talk to other people - and we don't mean via Facebook, texting, or just yapping on the cell phone. It's good to have face-to-face human interaction. One thing we noticed, regardless of where we stayed, is that fellow campers make an effort to meet and talk to each other. Not only is it good for your psyche, you never know who you are going to meet. A fellow camper may pass along a valuable piece of advise regarding a repair you need to make, information about a particular campground you're thinking about staying at, or they just might be from your neck of the woods. In one campground in North Carolina, we met six (6) other campers from the state of Maine alone.
One final footnote - big rig truckers can be some of your best allies!!

5). Ask questions. This has been a life saver for us. We make an effort not only to talk to people, but also questions. This ranges from asking the name of the cashier at whatever restaurant, market, or Wal-Mart you're currently shopping at inquiring about how they're doing today, to asking directions for the most direct traveling route, to placed NOT to stay. Starting a friendly, casual conversation can lead to all kinds of useful information, and better yet - very helpful people who remember you because you took the time to make them feel like a human being.

6). You just gotta roll with it. This part comes with a myriad of atypical sayings, but they are all true. Take one day at a time, at the end of the day - let it go. Tomorrow is a new day - begin it well. The unexpected will happen... so expect it. You will see things that will amaze you, disgust you, make you laugh out loud, come close to crying, and other times just leave you shaking your head.
Be in the moment, regardless when that is. Make that concept an all-awaking practice. Life is a game - and it demands attention.
With the aspects that are truly exciting, fascinating, and memorable - are we watching for it?
When there is hilarity and humor - do we see it?
When there are touching or life changing moments - are we open to them?

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

A Day Of Campgrounds, Victorian Hotels & Jobs 1400 Miles Away

Picking up where we left off, on Monday December 16th, we went with Cindy into Kingston as we needed to make a conscious effort to save as much fuel in the Nomad as possible. We needed what money and gas we had left in order to drive to either a local campground or to another location in Georgia if our employment situation didn't pan out here in the St. Mary's area. We headed into  the bright sunny day by mid-morning. We have to admit - nothing beats a sunny day for keeping one's spirits high.

While Cindy attended to her appointments, we sat in her van writing the next blog as well as reading. Afterwards, Cindy grabbed her lunch at a local BBQ (we packed ours) and headed for the Cooked River State Park to eat alfresco. The plan was to visit a few campgrounds afterwards that were in the area - two of which had called us back by that point.

The first campground we stopped at was The Big Wheel Campground just down the road from the park. We spoke with Karen, the owners wife. We reviewed our situation and explained the pickle we were in in regards to the four campgrounds (and counting) that offered us work and then for various reasons, backed out at the last minute. She sympathized with us as we spoke;
 "We are a small campground. We have filled all of our sites, I'm even putting a couple out in the field. My husband built this business with his own hands and does pretty much all the work himself. I'll admit, we're getting a little too old to run it ourselves, but my husband is very stubborn."


"This is his baby", I interjected.

"Yes, and being so," she continued, "he's extremely particular who he lets work in this campground in regards to the repairs he can no longer do. He doesn't even let anyone borrow and use his tools! At this juncture, he hasn't considered work campers. I did want to meet you in person - put a face with the phone conversation we had. Have you checked with other campgrounds and state parks?"

"Yes ma'am, I have", Dave replied. "I've emailed and called over 35 campgrounds from South Carolina all the way to the Florida panhandle."

Karen asked, "Well, how about your local church? It's all about networking - putting a face to a name and making sure you're not scruffy looking."

"Yes, if I ran a campground, I'd do the same - he got pretty scruffy looking while we traveled!" I joked.

"No, I'm talking beer belly hanging out, clothes with holes in them, long unkempt beard, long scraggly hair - ya know... scruffy looking! Your husband does not fit that description." Karen said with emphasis.

Dave thanked her for her time and I wished her a Merry Christmas. Karen gave us a printed list of numerous campgrounds along I-95 just in case there was one that Dave had not contacted yet. Karen did mention she was going to get her husband to consider at least sharing the work required to maintain the campground and that they might have some work for us next winter. If nothing else pans out, here's hoping for next winter!

Next on the list was a 3rd trip to Country Oaks Campground as well as the KOA right down the road from it. This time we actually got to talk with the owner Lonnie and his wife Stephanie. Once again, we ran into another situation of the owner building the place up from scratch. He even had another work camper couple who just retired. However, at this moment, he wanted to "...be more hands on and involved in his business and not be an absentee owner." Stephanie really wanted to help us out - you could tell - but she couldn't change her husbands mind. Maybe next year he commented.

While we were talking with the owners, Cindy was on the Internet and found out that the full moon she wanted to photograph was taking place that evening. We agreed that after we talked with the KOA campground manager, we would head up to Jekyll Island to watch and photograph the moon rise.

Less than 3 minutes later, we pulled up to the office of the St. Mary's KOA and spoke with the manager Darlene. Again, it was by now a familiar story - no work camper opportunities. It was just too late in the season. Dave & I were beginning to feel like we were participating in a movie - we were just going through the motions to complete it, even though we already knew the outcome. However, we refused to believe that there were zero opportunities within 100 miles of us. There had to be a vacancy, an employee who wasn't working out, a sudden change in someones plans in which they could no longer fulfill their obligation... somewhere. Or we're we just in denial? Or maybe partially insane... performing the same tasks and expecting different results?

We enjoyed the 45 jaunt north, then east, to Jekyll Island State Park. While it is owned by the state, it was, at one point, a playground for the rich and famous. Extravagant homes and a clubhouse has now been turned into a popular tourist attraction and public hotel. There are quite a few homes in this "state park", but nowhere near as fancy as the ones we visited, and even has it's own police and fire departments.

We toured the hotel which was decked out in by-gone era Christmas decorations, ambled through the chapel, and around the grounds while waiting for sunset. While walking around, Dave received a phone call from yet another campground. This one however, was different. It was an actual phone interview and then a real job offer... in Maine for the summer season. Our new boss Patti would email us a contract and would see us in April. We were both elated! Great - we finally had employment... in Maine... starting in 3 months... over 1400 miles away! What the heck?!? We were extremely grateful, but we also need something... like now!


Be it as it may, we were still excited about our new jobs. We continued to drive further around the island before parking in a tree-lined area near the beach. Ah... nature at last! Palm trees were in abundance along with some swamp lands as we meandered along a path until we reached an open expansive beach - and there was the wide open Atlantic. There was lots of driftwood on the beach, but not like what we were used to in Maine. This "driftwood" didn't "drift" - they were large uprooted trees that had been tossed on shore like play toys from various storms of the past. Some were upright, but most were on their sides. The abstract designs Mother Nature created were incredible.

However, also incredible, were the gnats on the beach. We thought the black flies in Maine were bad on the first warm day in late spring - this was just as bad if not worse. Even Cindy was surprised they were still this bad, this late in the year. For those who don't know me very well - I hate bugs! The moon, for me, couldn't rise fast enough. The incests were just too much. I went back to the van - thank you Cindy for the keys! I really appreciated it! Dave stayed for the moon rise and photographed some great footage which can be seen in our latest photo slide show that will be up on You Tube in a few days!

Upon leaving, we passed several graceful deer and saw some beautiful Christmas light displays. We stopped for dinner and then headed home. I relaxed in a hot bath and then we all retired a little earlier than usual for a sound nights sleep.

We were all awake before 8am, as a service man from Cindy's Internet provider was due at the house shortly thereafter. Dave and I ate our breakfast and packed for our excursion to the local library. While Dave continued his job (and campground) hunt, I went on a book hunt. In a small local library, I managed to find two Christmas gifts as well as a book for myself! Besides - what's a book-aholic without a book?

One book I picked up was entitled, "Angels Among Us - Chicken Soup For The Soul". I believe some of the people we've met along this journey have been angels. They are comforting, calm, and peace-filled people that were there during a short stay, or even at times, vanished by the time I went to turn around. It doesn't matter if we ever see them again - they did their job for their allotted time, and we thank them.

'Tis the season of hope, faith, love and joy...
We hope to find work,
We have faith we are provided for in all our needs,
We love God, ourselves, each other, and all those we meet,
We await and then enjoy with joy-filled hearts this wonderful season!

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

Never A Dull Moment

Sunday December 15th, 2013

Camping can be a 24/7 job. In almost all of the campgrounds we've experienced, especially down South, someone has to be available nights and weekends. David is used to this concept from his years in the hospitality industry. I'm beginning to wonder if I could do that type of work.

Last Thursday the 12th, we were in approximately 20 miles northwest of Charleston South Carolina, and we were up by 6am. I was eager to hit the highway. Dave drove to the nearest McDonalds and parked the Nomad until the sun came up. We realize that we're getting older and neither of us like to drive in the dark if we don't have to - especially in an unfamiliar somewhat urban area. This is what Dave said; in my book, I think he was still a little sleepy and hadn't had his usual huge dose of coffee! The golden arches supplied the coffee as we ate our cereal and granola bars. It was a nice way to start the day as we also gazed at the golden morning sun rising over the tree lined parking lot.

Satisfied, we drove southbound down US Route 17 through small towns, open sections of highway, forests, and swamps. After bout three hours, we arrived in Brunswick Georgia where we stopped at another Wal-Mart for lunch, bathroom break, as well as a brief respite. We always find this humorous as we've come to believe there is no such thing as a "peaceful respite" in any Wal-Mart, especially less than 2 weeks before Christmas!

About two hours passed when we decided to drive the last 45-60 minutes to our friend Cindy's house. We took back roads as it was the shortest drive. Georgia state routes 252 and 40 supplied the usual as well as unusual scenery. Out on Route 252, we passed a sign as well as what we presumed to be the building the sign was describing - an old "burnt fort". The building definitely looked like it was burnt and the windows were barred, but there was no other information available. It looked well over 150 years old... possibly a civil war era monument or relic?

More forests, swamp areas, and even land that was clear cut, dotted the landscapes as we drove onward. Other than the 18 wheelers that joined us on the highway whom were hauling logs from the clear cutting, the route was rather vacant. We arrived at Cindy's house around mid-afternoon. We were a little tired and road weary. We had been driving for 4 days straight. Cindy wouldn't be home from her work for another two hours, so Dave closed his eyes for a spell, while I called our daughters and texted a few friends that we arrived safely and that the Nomad was performing well above par.

When Cindy arrived home, we were welcomed with big hugs as well as hellos. She showed us where we could crash as well as grab a shower. We were truly grateful for her hospitality as well as a 2nd bedroom with its own private bath! Dave brought in our suitcases and a few other necessities while Cindy changed out of her Park Ranger uniform. We regrouped in her large kitchen for dinner. Afterwards, I jumped right into washing the dirty dishes that were in the sink. I think this took Cindy by surprise, but not as much as me almost begging her to allow me to do them - believe it or not, the hot water actually calms my nerves. After the past few days, my nerves a little more frazzled than usual. No comments from the peanut gallery...

After a hot meal of southern meatloaf, broccoli, corn and dirty rice (a New Orleans dish), we chatted for about another 90 minutes before retiring for the night. Cindy had to get up early for work the next morning, plus Dave & I were now totally wiped. Time alone for decompressing was a welcomed relief for all.

Friday arrived full of sunny splendor, but unfortunately we weren't as bright-eyed and bushy tailed as we would've hoped. We were awakened numerous times throughout the night by the not so distant cries of the train whistles. Dave said, "...this seems to be our lot in life lately". It's turned into a running gag with us! We just looked at each other and laughed. Dave did a little research later on that day and found out that the local rails were a major line to Jacksonville Florida, which is only 20 miles away, as well as other cities in the deep south.

I said good morning to my friend before she departed for work, then we got into our business of breakfast, showering, writing, meditating, and burning up the email in regards to employment. Then it was lunch, more emails about more jobs, making cold calls to campground owners and managers, and finally taking a long walk to clear our heads.

Saturday seemed a little brighter, psychology wise, as we realized the trains and their whistles are a 24 hour /

7 day a week thing unlike New Bern North Carolina where at least those trains took the weekend off. Dave and I headed for Kingsland for a late morning appointment with a campground owner that looked very promising. The weather wasn't cooperating that morning as we waited out a torrential downpour before heading out around 10:30am. Our spirits brightened as the skies did the same as we entered Kingsland. We found the campground without any problems. It wasn't until we arrived at the office door where we encountered the problem - there was no one there and wouldn't be until 2pm that afternoon. We called the office number and spoke with a wonderful woman named Dottie. She mentioned the owner should be back by then as he was in Jacksonville Florida at the moment.

No worries - we had a bunch of errands to do anyways that would take a few hours. After crossing all the items off our to do list, we headed back to the campground and pulled in around 3pm. The owner was still a no-show, but Dottie was there. It turns out, she was also from Maine. We talked for a while and she expounded on the work camper situation in the south, including the fact that since all the "northern" campgrounds are closed, there are twice as many campers down south when compared to summer. Yes - we know this, as frustrating as it is. By 4pm, the owner was still a no-show and Dottie couldn't get in touch with him, so we left rather discouraged. Dave was very disappointed in the fact that the owner didn't even remember we were coming, considering we'd spoken to him early yesterday evening.

Life is what it is, regardless of how we feel. There's no use allowing our anger or other emotions take us on a roller-coaster ride. Chin up and press on.

Just before 5pm, we arrived back at Cindy's house. We put our cold foods in a space provided for in her fridge. All the non-perishables stayed in the Nomad. We were in the middle of making dinner when there was a knock at the door. A young man in his early 20's was standing on the porch. Being the campers that we are, we naturally stepped out of the house and outside -

"My name is Robert Owen and I live next door", the stranger began as he pointed to his small house. "I worked a late shift and didn't get home until around 1am. While I was gone, I was robbed. I'm going around to some of the surrounding blocks to see if anyone saw anyone or anything. My TV, stereo, and computer were taken. Both doors to my house were kicked in. I thought I lost my dog too, until I found him in one of the bedrooms with the door closed. I'm kinda disappointed in him right now."

"No", I replied, "we sleep at the east end of the house, so we don't even see your property." Dave asked if he called the police. Robert replied that he had. They came down, filed a report, and that was about it. He also mentioned they don't dust for prints in cases like this - the town doesn't have the capability.
Dave was flabbergasted - "Are you serious?"
"Yes sir. That's what they told me." was our neighbors reply.

"We're sorry for your loss. We'll keep our eyes and ears open. If we find out anything, we'll you and the authorities know", I said meekly. What do you say to a guy who just lost more than a thousand dollars worth of electronics just before Christmas? He thanked us kindly for our time and our efforts as he turned to leave.

We felt obligated to tell our house hostess Cindy when she arrived home from work. She knew she was leaving this area by late Spring for her next Ranger assignment - that may be bumped up quite a bit. It is an unsettling feeling; regardless if you have a house or a house on wheels. At least the Nomad is parked right outside our bedroom window. We'll be able to hear if anyone monkeys with it.

The next morning, Dave got our breakfast cooking and our phone rang. Another campground manager near the Crooked River State Park in St. Mary's returned our phone call regarding work camper opportunities. Dave explained our current situation and said she would like to meet us and talk to us further.

Here's hoping -

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill and Dave

Get Fuzzy

Monday, Dec. 9, 2013

There was a lot of fog and rain in the early morning hours on this day of our departure from New Bern, North Carolina

KOA.  This didn't dampen our moods though.  We casually planned our coffee run and our showering time.  Only minor odds and ends to do.  Our departure was delayed when the Nomad decided not to start because of a drained battery.  We called Good Sams Roadside Assistance and they came within fifteen minutes to jump start us.  We became anxiety stricken as tensions ran high with Dave and I.  The tone was set for the rest of the day.

We pulled out of the campground shortly thereafter, gassed up and headed south on US Rte. 17.  We drove for an hour and entered Jacksonville when the engine roared at us.  I asked Dave, "...what are you doing?" "I'm not doing anything", he replied. "I have no idea why the Nomad is sounding like this." We continued for a few more miles until we found a safe place to pull over. It was at an Exxon Gas Station.  There was a road service man there fastening a car onto the tow truck. We didn't know if this was a good sign or not.

Undaunted, I went over to him, "Excuse me," I said. "We are driving that RV and it began to roar at us. I was wondering if you could look at it?"  "Sure, ma'am," he replied as he followed me back to the Nomad. Dave opened the hood and said, "I'm not sure what's up, but it sounded like a roar. Like the fan is about to take off." Jim, who was about 20 yrs. old replied, "Sounds like your transmission to me, especially if you've been driving for several hundred miles. These old Chevy's are known for it - especially when they put those junk 4 speed overdrive automatic transmissions behind them. You can come to our garage for a full diagnostic," as he handed Dave a business card. Dave explained that we'd only driven 50 miles so far that day and the transmission was in fact an older 3 speed transmission in the Nomad with no overdrive. "Yeah - you don't even have a transmission cooler on this rig. That will blow out those weak transmissions in no time."

Dave and I sat in the cab of the Nomad for a few minutes trying to decide what to do. Dave was not impressed with the young tow truck driver, as he tended not to listen to us... at all. Then Dave went into the store to try to get more names of auto mechanics in the area. I had remembered seeing a place that we passed right up the road about a half a mile or so called Parkers, so we turned around and drove there. Irwin, a 70 year old man in overalls and looked like those mechanics portrayed in the movies, came out to listen to the engine. Without taking it for a ride, he tried to diagnose the situation as best as possible. He said it could be the fan clutch or the transmission. "I really don't know what to tell ya. You could drive down the road until something fails - then you'll know what's really wrong with it," he advised.

By this time, we had also called our oldest daughter Meg, who is a top notch ASE mechanic. She, like Irwin, said it was impossible to diagnose over the phone. She also agreed that someone, at some repair shop, will HAVE to test drive it in order to get a better idea of what is ailing our RV.

We left Irwin's garage feeling bewildered.  We drove about a mile and a half before Dave put on the brakes and turned right into a neighborhood, fearing it to be the transmission. "Hear that?" Dave told me. "It's not shifting into 3rd gear the way that it should.  I'm going back to the RV campground we saw down the road. We can spend the night there and figure this out in the morning." I replied, "Honey, I am not a mechanic. I don't have a clue about these things.  It's ok with me whatever you decide."

He got back on the highway and went to the RV park we passed.  In the office, two women, Tiffany and

Michelle, were very helpful in checking us in and then recommending a local transmission technician.  We found our site, pulled in and hooked up our electricity, then we went for a walk in order to breathe again.  Both of us were fretting the worst case scenario.  We met a work camper while out and about from Bangor, Maine.  His name was Mark and he was quite pleasant.  He gave us more info about work camping from his experience, what owners expect and what we may encounter.  Mark was a jovial man.  He described his annual jaunts as being here in NC for 5 weeks, then moving on to Texas for the winter, and back to Bangor next summer.  He found the campgrounds he liked working at and has kept them.  He also said, "Things aren't as bad as they seem."  He was a very positive influence on us and I felt calmer.

I slept soundly until the 5a.m. traffic on the highway began.  Dave hardly slept at all.  The nightmares of a failed transmission plagued him. Mark was outside painting the bath house a cheerful pale yellow around 9a.m. "How'd you sleep?" he inquired. "Ok, but Dave didn't.  We think we might have a failing transmission and we're in no position to fix or repair something that expensive right now.  We are between jobs.  We are hoping and praying for a cheap, easy fix." "Don't worry.  It'll be ok," he said smiling as I turned to walk away.  I was comforted again by his calm, easy manner.  To those of you out there who know me well - you know how easily I get stressed. For those who know Dave real well - you know how well he hides his stress. Not many people can tell when he's scared, but I can.  It's not often that we are both scared about the same thing at the same time.

I think it was finally hitting both us & we had to be prepared for whatever would happen today. The Nomad is our house on wheels - it is the only mode of transportation we have. If the transmission was failing, Dave knew it would be a minimum of $1500 to repair or replace along with a few days of down time. Since we couldn't afford that, we would have to exercise other options; like storing - or much more likely - selling the Nomad somehow, somewhere, and renting a car to get to our next destination, wherever that would be.

We prepared to go, warmed up the Nomad and headed off in the direction of Floyd's Transmission Shop also in Jacksonville a few miles away.  Upon finding the place, we turned in and continued down a narrow driveway and out back to the garage where Floyd conducts his business.  I hopped out, so Floyd could get behind the drivers seat. Dave took my seat and off they went for all of five minutes before returning.  Floyd then proceeded to get his creeper, crawl under the Nomad and began tinkering.  He drained some of the transmission fluid which was a cherry red color -- Dave said, "Yeah, the fluid color is perfect. It's not dirty or burnt."  Floyd checked a few other things and even he started looking concerned. Then Floyd came to the front of the Nomad and lifted the hood.  He checked a few more components and then he tinkered with the fan. "I'm certain it's your fan clutch. Do you want me to put in a new one?"  Dave replied, "Well, how much is it?"

Floyd quoted the price with labor - which came to our last dollar.  We'd have no more gas money and would not make it to my friend Cindy's house in southern Georgia - we could make it to Myrtle Beach South Carolina, which was still over 130 miles away, but then what? I began to explain this to Floyd. "Can you pay for the part?" "Yes, we can." Dave replied. I volunteered, "Would you take an oil painting in trade for your labor?" "A what?" he asked.

"I'm an oil painter and we have some paintings with us. Let me get out my portfolio to show you." I ran out back and got it and returned to him, "Do you like moose?" "Yeah," he replied.  "Good, I have a moose painting I think you'd like. It looks better than this picture of it. Dave, go get the moose, please." After seeing the framed work, Floyd agreed to barter the painting for his labor.

Floyd called for the new clutch. When it arrived, he began the three hour process of removal of the old part, and replacing it with the new one.  Dave ambled around taking random shots of motors as well as other antique parts that were lying around and muscle cars and other auto-mobilia.  I read a good book I was involved in and also found a new friend in a tiger cat named Fuzzy. After a while, Floyd's wife, Eleanor, came out and joined me at the cement table.  We got to talking and I showed her my art.  She ended up purchasing an ocean painting so we replenished the money we spent on the part and that would allow us to definitely get to Georgia. This was a marvelous blessing and a boost to my art career.

What could have turned out to be the end of our journey turned out to be another beginning.  With a sigh of relief we departed in the pouring rain and blustering wind to find our way to the nearest Walmart to park for the night.  We texted our children, then went to Subway for dinner. (Thanks Helene for the gift certificate! It was highly appreciated!)

I had on my colorful rain boots and enjoyed puddle stomping.  Passersby complimented me for having them on.  I figure, if you're going to be out in dreary weather and looking down, might as well look at something that will cheer me up! We headed over to the Walmart as David's meager wardrobe of one pair of jeans, one pair of dress pants and one pair of shorts bothered me to the point of no return.  I have five totes of clothing as well as a large suitcase. He doesn't have any totes - all his clothes fit into one suitcase. Yes, I got a full-blown case of guilt. But as Dave kept telling me - he had jobs over the years where they provided him with uniforms, whereas I needed clothes for my job. We eventually made it to the men's section and Dave found a couple pairs of black jeans and some shirts to wear with them.  Merry Christmas, Love!

We shopped; well, sort of - beginning in the Christmas decorations section browsing the ornaments and

trees.  I did find two small trees I liked.  We pressed onward as I have to rethink what Christmas means to me especially with such small living quarters.  Do I waste money on throw away stuff - as we have no storage space left unless I ditch all the paintings I brought with me.  We did bring one ornament with us - a golden decorated word - JOY.  When I look beyond the tinsel and glitter of this Holy Day - Christ was born - the birth of my Savior.  In that alone, I am joy-filled.  It is my hope that all our friends in the reader world would become joy-filled, too.  This joy isn't just for a season, it lasts a lifetime no matter what else is going on in your life: there is joy.

After our extremely small shopping spree, I had a case of "like mother, like daughter..." We got a call from our youngest, Catherine.  She'd had an extremely challenging day, was exhausted and needed to be heard.  I'm glad the lines of communication are open between us!  She began with, "I know God never gives us more than we can handle, but this is a doozer!" she began...

She was over-whelmed and needed to vent and cry.  Her feelings needed an outlet. Crying is not a weakness, contrary to popular belief.  It is actually a way to heal your inner self and a strength that helps us to become whole.  There are certain life circumstances that we don't understand like: Why do good people have to suffer and why do children die?  We can never have full comprehension of God while we are here on Earth.  All we can do is to let go of our worries and concerns.  God can handle it all if we get ourselves out of the way.

When I'm hungry, angry, lonely and tired - I can't think straight.  I have to take care of myself before I can be of any use to anyone else.  The issues are many, but I am only one person.  Yet with God, nothing is impossible.  Let it go- and God steps in (even if it is only to offer you peace and comfort to see you through the moment.)  Being on Earth in the school of Love has many tests.  You only fail if you quit trying.  You have to keep praying and making choices. The choices aren't always easy, but we keep pressing on with our journeys.

Until next time,
The Relieved Happy Campers,
Jill and Dave

On an Expedition

First off, we are apologizing in advance for the delay in getting the latest blogs up on the board. Between traveling, contacting campgrounds, packing up & all the other daily details involved in living on the road, sometimes there just isn't enough time to blog. Sometimes there isn't even an internet connection where we're staying for the night. It is what it is.

Continuing onward - it's the Sunday after Thanksgiving and we feel like we're witnessing Moses with the mass exodus.  The long holiday weekend is over. Everyone has to go back to school and work on Monday.  The motor-home beside us is warming up. A lady across the way is sweeping their fire dome. The showers and facilities are in high usage. The office worker upon hearing the bit about a problem with the bathroom toilet responded, "People are pigs."

We were at a bonfire the night before (Saturday), where Brian instructed Rick (two people who work here) on what to say to people today: to the men say, "...Mourning" with a sad face, and to the women say, "Good Morning" all cheerful and smiling.  Brian then continued to expound on the rituals of camping life as they prepare to leave.  "The women will be running all around eagerly cleaning their site and packing, while the men will dawdle trying to extend their stay as long as possible.  After a break from work they want to prolong their stay as much as possible. I even heard one lady yell at her husband, "HURRY UP! YOU'RE MOVING TOO SLOW!"  He laughed at the memory of it.

Websters dictionary defines an expedition is a journey with a particular purpose.  Our goal was to go south until April.  We have succeeded in the go south part.  Our challenge now is to be able to sustain ourselves and make money to go back north.  Part of that process is to obtain a job and/or an income.  To continue from our previous "Escapades" blog-
I returned to the day care center on the Monday after Thanksgiving.  The sun was bright as well as my outlook until I walked in and had the following conversation with the owner:
 - "Is LaShawna here?"
 - "No, she was fired," she replied while swaying with a sleeping child in her arms.
 - "My name is Jill Langdon and I've left my resume here with LaShawna two weeks ago."
 - "Do you have any early childhood certifications?"
 - "No."
She turned out the door and walked away down the hallway.

There we have it - no job - and no upcoming phone call from LaShawna.  The good news is that I found out instead of waiting.  The bad news is that I felt kicked in the stomach and couldn't breathe.  Fear enveloped me - darkness clouded my thoughts - Now what?

Dave had a lead on a job at a KOA campground out on Cape Hatteras North Carolina. The manager of that

campground suddenly back-peddled and reversed on his offer. We were pretty ticked at the time, but realize now that we were being taken care of. Turns out, a few days ago on December 3rd, the state closed the Bonner Bridge (which is the only way to get from the upper Outer Banks to Hatteras Island) without warning due to the discovery of extreme erosion problems with the sand that surrounds the bridge columns. No one knows how long the bridge will be closed. The only way off that section of the Outer Banks is by emergency ferry. The Nomad is too big & heavy for the ferry. We would have been stuck out there... for who knows how long.

Also that week, for a day or so, Dave and I toyed with the idea of staying here in New Bern because the campground manager strongly hinted that one of the workers would get fired. However, time passed and again nothing. With two days to spare before our paid up site is done, David found two companies that might work for his personality.  One is a good campground in Georgia, the other is a sales position where we can choose where we want to go and stay for two weeks. Dave is an excellent manager and salesman when he believes in the product or company.  He'd be on his game, and he seemed pretty excited when he told me about it.

I don't mind traveling, but having the cash to do it helps!  The goal of being a happy camper is to be happy at what you are doing.  On the 9th of December we are hitting the road for Georgia to my friend Cindy's house.  This other campground is very close by where we'll be landing again, so either way David can begin a new job and I will have the peace and quiet to paint and write.  We later saw a t-shirt with a stick figure reclining in front of a camper that said, "Life is good." Yes - life can be good.

I truly believe that it is.  Life is what you make it.  Choices abound to live in misery or to soar.  We choose to make the most out of the opportunities presented to us.  I am reminded of movies like: The Traveling Salesman, and The Music Man where he had the kids use the THINK method to learn songs -- Think money flowing into our pockets.

David has been told, "You can sell anything to a chair," and "even ice to an Eskimo".  Dave has many fine qualities, talents and interests.  To name them all is to write a book. When he puts his whole heart and soul into it, his talents shine. We'll let you know how things work out.

The purpose of this expedition is to improve the quality of our lives.
The Happy Campers,
Jill and Dave

Let's Talk Turkey!

First of all - Happy Thanksgiving! America is the first country to make a National holiday for giving thanks.  The tradition began because one woman, Sarah Josapha Hale, persistently wrote (for 15 years) to numerous presidents, circa 1850 onward, in order that it be established.  Abraham Lincoln instituted it as an American custom.  This custom is in remembrance of the first harvest feast between the Native Americans and the Pilgrims.  They blessed their feast with a grace that went something like this: "We thank God for our homes, food, and safety in a new land.  We thank God for the opportunity to create a new world of freedom and justice. Amen."  What do I have to be thankful for?

The campground we're currently staying at, holds an annual Thanksgiving dinner. It's pot-luck style where whomever signs up to attend, brings a holiday dish of some sort. Brian was in charge of getting the turkey, hams, rolls & pies. On Tuesday, the count of people coming was around 40.  By Thursday afternoon, it was over 80.  The hall only holds 60 people. The people who checked in on Wednesday and Thursday were told about the dinner, but not told to bring something.  Three factors saved this meal from being ruined; One, someone had the wherewithal to ration the turkey and ham portions; Two, the first tables to be served didn't hoard food; Three, the ones who did bring casseroles and other dishes brought enough to feed an army.  Initially, there was some concern that there wouldn't be enough food, but enough was left not only for seconds, but also take home plates.  Cooperation, on everyone's part, made what could've been a very chaotic situation become orderly.

The week prior to Thanksgiving was full of turkey talk--how many ways have you tried to cook a turkey? There's deep frying it, smoked, baked, and new to us - "trashcan turkey"

How to make a trashcan turkey:
 - First, wrap your turkey in aluminum foil, then make a fire in a safe place on the ground. 
 - Second, when the fire is just hot coals, place a stake with the turkey on it in the center and cover it with a new trashcan. 
 - Third, heap more hot coals on top as well as around the bottom of the trashcan.  We were told that within an hour and a half, a 15 pound turkey is done, is succulent and juicy as it peels easily off the bone.  Bon appetite!

Talk around the campground also centered on Christmas and the doing away with Black Friday. Most everyone agreed that in the corporate world and their quest for more money, the big box stores have shot themselves in the foot.  By putting out much of the Christmas paraphernalia just after Halloween, and having "pre-Black Friday" sales, the stores are starting to take the rush out of shopping the day after Thanksgiving.  Consumers don't have the urgency like they used to for Black Friday sales.

Haven't we lost the true meaning of Christmas?  Christ came to heal our relationship with God.  He was the perfect sacrifice for our sins. God is pure love and couldn't mingle with sin.  Christ is love incarnate in order that we may learn love. The Christmas of our hearts would become an everyday sacred practice. Wouldn't it mean more to our family and friends if we were "present" in our daily rounds for one another? Gifts wouldn't be necessary and stuff wouldn't pollute our world. We would all have what we need and even poverty might be alleviated if people would share their wealth instead of hoarding it.

I am thankful for my family and friends. I'm thankful for our Nomad which has kept us warm and dry.  I'm grateful for the Southern fare that accompanied our turkey and I'm grateful for watching Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving where I was reminded that it's not what is being served, but the company you are with.

We called our children and talked with them for about an half an hour each. The two youngest grandchildren were with their daddy for the day.  The two older ones had quite a take on Thanksgiving.  Tristan talked to us at length about the families day- watching the Macy's parade and going out with his dad in the morning.  Apparently, Alyssa couldn't come to the phone because, "I'm cooking!" she told her mother.  For our granddaughter, Thanksgiving is all about the feast.  We imagined her with an apron on in the kitchen with her daddy making deviled eggs, crab tarts, and many other types of goodies.

We wanted to bring lobster rolls or lobster salad to the campgrounds' feast, but couldn't find a lobster here. 

We managed to bring New England cranberry sauce though.  We read that the original feast had foul- not limited to turkey, also duck and goose.  The cranberries and blueberries were in their natural form. Squash and pumkin (sorry, no pies yet ).  Fish and shellfish were plentiful.  Walnuts and spices flavored the turkey. (No potatoes, or gravy or stuffing.)  Onions, beans, spinach, cabbage, and carrots were on the table. Corn was actually made into mushy cornmeal and possibly flavored with molasses.  Fruits- plums and grapes were abundant. Lastly, there was venison cooked on a spit. According to legend, the Native Americans brought five deer to the feast.

The first feast would have been like a big campfire with basic but not boring fare.  Dave met a man today who just received his RV from an aunt.  It was a fairly old model like ours, but had lots of work done to it. He only had it for 2 days - he was a nervous wreck, but excited to have it.  When David told me about him, I remembered the man from Turkey (the country) who sold us the Nomad and his father who told me, "Don't worry, it will get you where you have to go."

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

Escapades

An escapade is defined as an act having daring, excitement or adventure.  We are parked now, so what kind of excitement, daring or adventure can you find at a sleepy campground that's batting down the hatches for what the locals call "winter"?

The job hunt is in full swing.  We were originally headed for St. Marys Georgia for a camp worker job, but those positions were filled by another couple by a campground owner who lacked any patience and just couldn't wait for us. We then had a lead that was out on Cape Hatteras, but that manager changed his mind at the last minute. After being told there were no camp jobs available at this moment, Dave applied to more than thirty places online and about ten jobs he can walk to.  Jill applied to only one- Living Waters Daycare Center for children.  This center is about two blocks from the campground and in walking distance.  Lashawna, the office assistant, told me her story and how she stepped out in faith to get her job as well as in starting the center.  She kept repeating that with my Bachelor's Degree the center could receive a five star rating and attract more clients. Needless to say, she wants to hire me.  She knows a five-year-old boy who needs more help with his letters and numbers.  He's currently in another program and you'd be good working with him.  She then handed me the job application to fill out and return.

I went back the following day and met the Assistant Director, Martianna. "You came back!"  she said excitedly as she snatched the paper from me.  At that point, I was unsure what to think - how many potential employment opportunities do you run across where that sentence is the first thing out of someones' mouth? She told me she'd have Lashawna call me later with the other forms and certificates I'd need to bring in.  The phone call never came. I walked there the next day with my birth certificate, social security card , driver's license and references only to find out their copy machine didn't work.  The rest of the office was disorganized chaos. I decided to wait for their phone call now.  I stepped out in faith, but I also need a job I can physically do.

In the meantime, Pat, the campground manager, left for a convention in Texas and then on to spend Thanksgiving with her grandchildren in Virginia.  The very next day, we were invited to dinner and a rousing game of cards to be held in the community center only a campsite away from us. I guess when the manager is away, the workers will play! Brian Wescott organized the whole event.  He came over with Jenny (who is a long term camper here) who said we'd be her guinea pigs with this new Mexican Stuffed Shells she was planning to make.  It would be her and her husband, Fred, Brian and his girlfriend, Lisa, another work camper Betsy and her husband Rick along with Dave and I.

Jenny is quite a crock-pot cook.  She scours recipes and loves to cook.  She also made an apple crisp for dessert.  She decided the stuffed shells were too much work, but was pleased with her effort.  They were tasty and everyone participated in the daring of trying something new.

After dessert, Rick cracked out a deck of Five Crowns. Only Betsy & Rick had played before and Rick tried to explain the rules to us all.  They were simple enough.  The game begins with three cards.  The threes and jokers were wild in the first hand. The object of the game is to get a run in the same suit or three of the same number and to end up being the person with the least amount of points when that hand (and game) is over. I bombed the first hand accumulating thirty-one points, Dave got zero.

The next round increased to four cards and fours were wild with the jokers.  The first person to go out had to use up all of their cards and then the rest of the players had to scramble to see what they could lay down to eliminate some of the points in their hand. On a couple of rounds where the players had seven or eight cards in their hand, if they couldn't make a run or have more than three of the same number, the points added up fast costing them anywhere from seventy to ninety points per hand.

For being a rookie, I was dealt good hands with a lot of wild cards and jokers.  I was the winner with forty points at the end of the game.  Everyone else was well above one hundred.  Regardless, we all agreed that we needed to keep coming out and socializing all winter.  I guess cabin fever takes on a new seriousness when you're living in a four room tin can.

Escapades don't have to be big or grand. They can be smaller experiences that include adventure or excitement, or bring the chance to be daring in some way. In any form, they can add terrific memories, increase the number of friends we meet, and be part of the greatness that is our journey today as well as through life.

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave