We get letters.

I got an email from a regular reader who calls himself "Phil."  He might look something like this:

"I look exactly like this."

I'm still reading your blog, but it's lost its flair for bringing in the non-RVer.  So many shout-outs and links... you've assimilated completely.

Ouch, "Phil."  Ouch.  He goes on to say:

Love you!

Well, maybe that gets you somewhere with other moms, but ... okay, I forgive you.  Just remember the twenty-five hours of labor that spanned this entire day 25 years ago, and you were a big baby.  If there were any hope of my being awake at 12:20 AM, November 12, I'd wish you a Happy Birthday! right then and there.

I know you're not a big celebration guy, so it'll be just a heart-healthy glass of New York State cab with the lovely Katy.  I imagine you'll sleep right through the actual early-morning 25th anniversary of your birth.  That's okay;  you didn't inherit my wild party-animal genes.  You only got my stunning good looks, winning charm,  and razor-edged intellect.  I just hope that's enough.

I love you!  Happy Birthday, "Phil!"

Party time (two weeks later).

Annie and I had a great time.  It felt like luxury having so many of our friends in one place at the same time.  It must be how the triplets' moms feel about having all their kids' birthdays on the same day.  These are the cards the triplets made for us, even though it was not our birthday.

Violet chose a lovely violet-lavender background for hers.  You see that my hair is quite long compared to Annie's, which is entirely accurate.  Please also note my very fashionable high heels and red dress (red is my color).  Annie claims she is not wearing a dress, but rather, a long shirt.



Alex chose a neutral background with the Duck at Machu Pichu.  Annie has climbed to the top of a ruin, and I am shouting moral support from the base while enjoying a cold beverage (not shown).  I am extrapolating from Alex's fine Minimalist style;  I regret not asking the artist herself what she was saying here.



Mason did grant a brief interview about this piece.  The cover is self-explanatory:

He expands:  'these are two places the Duck shouldn't go:  the sea ... '

'... and outer space.'

Thanks, Mason, Alex, and Violet, for your original artwork!

I'm back home.  Whew.  We'll be here another week, then back south again.

A PooPourri for yoo and mi

INSURANCE:
We heard back from the Miller Agency, who does not write for NYS.  One down.

POOP AND PEE:
We've had a couple of requests (I poo you not) for more info about our toilet, so let me see what I can do:

The urine receptacle is full after 2-3 days.  Don't wait until it's full.  When we first started using it, we sort of lost track of things, and the next half hour was not pretty.  The jug has a lid that screws on for safe and jaunty carriage to whatever disposal place you use.  Joseph Jenkins, the Humanure guy, would suggest strongly that you dump it on your compost, but that's up to you.  Even if you flush it down a toilet it's better than flushing 10X a day.  So sez I.

The vault where we store our treasures gets full and hard to crank after two weeks, and so we completely change it out at that point if we're using peat moss.  Recently, I got an email from Elaine who suggested we try coconut coir (or fiber) instead of peat.  Great idea!  Compact, easier to stow than peat, and easier to use.  It's compact and ready;  peat moss comes in a huge bale that then has to be separated out into gallon plastic bags or it becomes immediately unwieldy.  I like my poop matrix to be wieldy.  Also, as she pointed out, it's more sustainable than peat moss.  It can be had at most pet stores, since it's mainly used for reptile cages.

Since we've been trying coconut, "we" don't dump it completely after two weeks.  Instead, "we" scoop it like a litter box about once a week.  Poo breaks up quickly in the coir, and the whole thing seems to stay dryer and less-smelly longer.  The sack o'poo goes into the garbage with the cat litter, and smells better.   When the level of coir gets too low, I imagine we'll just add a portion of a brick.  A brick of coir.

Last weekend Annie and my son, Phil, worked on the new camera.  When he got to the place on the roof where the Head vents, he yelled "SMELLS LIKE POOPY RIGHT HERE!"  That's what we like to hear, because when the dookie smell is on the roof, it's not in the coach.  That reminds me that I wanted to rejoice with you when I tell you that our solar vent is back online!  [rejoicing placeholder] Apparently it's equinoctally-related:  OFF in autumn, ON in spring.  We have to leave this place.

[Edit:  Annie just said "It's so funny that you talked about the camera while you were talking about the toilet.  It IS a REAR-VIEW camera ... "]

PARTY:
Some photos.

La Tour CN, La Tour Eiffel, La Tour Canard ("The Duck Tower")

Thank you for your input on full-timer's insurance.  We're checking on a few options now.

Our friends Alphonse and Bruno (you know them as Carolyn and Annie K.), and Melissa (you know her as Melissa) threw us a wonderful party, and now I can't imagine that we're thinking of leaving.  But, once you have the party, you gots to go!  We really do - we signed a contract, to wit:  Once the party is complete, you must vacate the county within 21 days or forfeit your cool gifts.  And you KNOW I am NOT giving back the WD-40 pen, John - I love that stuff.  I'll post pictures and droll commentary as soon as I can do it without violins.

Alarming True Fact:  If we break down on the road and settle in Elmira, NY, our friends will not visit.  There's a reason Mark Twain died there.

Now, relax while your lovely docent, Annie, leads you on a 3 minute review of The Duck.