An accidental theme

Flagstaff occupies the largest contiguous Ponderosa pine [butterscotch tree] forest in the world.


I tell you that to assuage your growing suspicion that life is passing you by while you read this blog. Occasionally, I will include redeeming bits of information to assuage you harder.

We follow an RVing page on Facebook who just revealed the two of them used 60 gallons (2-30 gallon totes) of laundry on a ten-day camping trip. Look, I'm no one to judge. Still, you can tell I'm judging a tiny bit, can't you? I'm a flawed individual, and these are clean, clean people. Maybe they are teenagers; that's the detail that would pull it all together.

[On the off chance you clean, clean people read this blog: just kidding! You guys were the nattiest campers in the park! You know I'm just jealous.]

Annie was explaining to the cousins that we don't heat up much water. Stove-top for washing dishes, and if the weather is hot enough we don't bother heating water for our showers, which we take using a lawn sprayer.  Lori didn't look even slightly shocked or horrified, but graciously offered us hot showers on the spot. I guess it's good that I didn't mention we were no-poo. That could have made inroads in her equanimity. I've got to admit, all that hot water was pretty great. Thanks!

Annie just read to me that it takes 37 gallons of water to make a roll of toilet paper. Can this be true?? You could shower for eighteen minutes with that much water, although that wouldn't be an effective substitute for an entire roll. I'll have to think more about this.

What happens when I think too long about toilet paper.

It wears itself out before nightfall, and then we're left in the dark.

 

Trucks have been porting these potties into the forest for days. What you may not see here is that they have all the doors pointed IN, so that they are INaccessible. Today, they began hauling them back out again, unused (as far as I could tell). 

These trees could be sold to make toilet paper.

My hooves do not fall through! Annie convinced me to try, and that's one more thing crossed off my Blech-it list.

This ends badly for someone. Enough said.

That's us! I obscured the license plates for safety.

That concludes today's post, which took one pint of water and a Coor's Light to produce.

Do we know you?

We've been thinking of Al and Karen today, because we're hanging out at Lazy Days, their favorite place.  It occurred to me that any of these folks we see around RVs could be bloggers.  Do we know you? Do we know you?  Five couples are seeking restraining orders, so we're laying low here at [a place we'll tell you about later] (which, by the way, is AWESOME).  I'm a little giddy from the free chocolate chip cookies in the lobby and the fresh coffee MOREPLEASETHANKYOU!!


We're taking the Driver's Confidence course at Lazy Days, so that Annie will finally stop martyring herself on the pale of pilot fatigue.  HA!  She loves to drive.  I'll never get the keys out of her hand.  It's okay, because I don't love to drive anything.


Little-known fact:  Seffner is not that close to the beach.  So, Annie hauled my whiney butt an hour west so I could dip my fat piggies in the Gulf of Mexico again.  Clearwater Beach seemed nice-but-busy, so we hit Sand Key County Park just south.




I've been away from Florida so long that I had forgotten how happy the beach makes me.   How happy does it make me?  It makes me pretty happy.

We got a car phone call from Alphonse and Bruno this week.  [Remember when saying "car phone" was like science fiction?] They made us laugh.  Made!

We thought of Maria and MaryGail a lot today, because we used our Dunkin' Donuts card, and because we checked our hotel for bedbugs.

[Maria travels a lot and taught us how to do that.]

The hotel we're at offers a water-conserving option to not replace your towels every day;  they call it "Save the World One Chambermaid at a Time," or something.   Annie and I plan to put a big ole dent in the world tonight by using 22 people's share of hot water.  Don't judge us.  You know why.

Photography most fowl

Read this: How to Walk Across a Parking Lot.  If you're too busy to read it, read it twice.

You're gonna walk away, see?  And you're gonna forget you was here, see?  You never saw me, see?

This stuff felt true today:  Ten Scams You Encounter Every Day.  You'll be a better person for having read it, or else you'll be mad that I wasted your time.  If you feel like it wasted your time, read it twice.

Heron Now

Pekin-ese

Egrets, I've had a few ...

ACK!  A whole flock!  

Duckpile

No birds were harmed in the filming of this post, but some children may have been badly photographed.

The stuff I promised you. Not a travelogue!

Micanopy

Bailey White wrote about Micanopy, and that's why I looked for it on the internet.  It's a sleepy drive from Lake City;  even while we were driving through Gainesville it was not especially stressful.  It was one of those 110° heat-index days that you're tired of reading about, and we cracked the car windows and got out. You can walk the length of the business district in five minutes, if you stop and browse a little.

We spent some time at the Shady Oak Gallery where local artists display and sell their work. The place is air conditioned and the pieces were great. They offer week-long stained glass classes, if you're interested. They also rent suites long- and short-term, in case the place charms the pants off you. And, if you're not charmed out of your pants, well, you must not be wearing any.

I had some serious business on my mind as we walked into the gallery: the only public restrooms in Micanopy.

After that, I could enjoy the wares. Beverly (an artist there) told us the town's name is pronounced "Mik uh NOPE ee" and that it used to be a company town. Everyone worked at a crate factory, and all the stores were company stores. She came for a visit years ago, stayed to work on her art, then took a part-time job in the gallery.  She's living the dream.  Seriously.

The clouds waited too long for the public restroom. We took refuge here:

I was going to take a picture here


and then I saw that he was selling postcards of the same picture, and I imagined me asking if it was okay for me to shoot, and him pointing at the postcard rack, so I took this picture instead:


To add poo to the potato salad, I can't remember the shop's name. "Robe__t_____"?  He sold some interesting memorabilia, including some ancient stuff.  It's a museum where you can touch and buy the exhibits.

Museum of Natural History at the University of Florida, where you cannot touch and buy the exhibits


The picture is fine. I was fuzzy that day.

RAWR!  Mosey away - I am a Giant Sloth.

"Does this mammoth make me look fat?"  Alternate caption: "The Mammoth, and some elephant-thing."  Vote now.  [You KNOW I did not suggest the elephant remark.]

Ichetucknee Springs

This shot is no better than the ones I posted before, but I really took this one.

The spring is the deeper-blue area in the southwest quadrant of the picture

It was 100° that day, and it still took 20 minutes of self-talk to get me in.

At the Blue Hole (a different spring in the same system). Mary offered me her mask, and swam out with me to calm my jitters.

Again with Annie.  Annie would have swim swam swum out with a mask, but says she wouldn't have gone right over the spring's mouth like she did with Mary.

Thanks, Mary! You made our visit 10X better.

Mary and Jack L., originally from Long Island, NY.  It was fun meeting you!

This river was NOT closed. Once I got beyond the sign, I could see it was running just like before. They mean that it was too late to start down the river in a tube - they close that down at 3:30 PM.

The CUTE was not closed!

What're we gonna do today, Brain?

Same thing we do every day, Pinky.  Check the chlorine level, then go back to bed.

The pool has been closed for about 10 days;  my son calls this 'a first-world problem.'  I think it's my step-father's passive-aggression toward long-term driveway parkers.   Did I put a lethal amount of chlorine in the pool ... again?  It's been a good thing, though, because it has forced us off the property and into outlaw territory.

Me.  Yesterday.  Denny's.  Ordering off the senior menu.  HAHA!  They didn't even card me.  Suckers!

Annie.  Yesterday.  Crescent Beach.  Urging us toward the water even while the lifeguard was clearing the beach.  HAHA!  He didn't even ... LIGHTNING!  RUN!!!

Annie's Behind ... the camera

My father's "estate" took us into St. Augustine to sign papers.  I should have taken him along to sit on the conference table - that would have been hilarious.  I'm kicking myself now.

We tried to go to Anastasia State Park.  The ranger took our money, but warned us the lifeguard was clearing the beach, so Annie stuck her hand out and took our $8 back.

Annie has two water projects:  keeping it in, and keeping it out.  Then there's the Duck.

Junk drawer of my mind.

You remember that David wrote me a song:


STARI, STARI, night.

Paint your pallor blue and grey,

Look out on a summer's day,

With ticks that know the darkness in my soul.

Vermin laden hills,

Scratch my knees and take some pills,

Catch disease and other ills,

Of horrors spawned from southern backwoods land.

Now you understand what I tried to say to ya,

How you suffered tularemia,

Now you fight with edema.

You would not listen, you did not know how.

Perhaps you'll listen now. 


He wrote another verse, but saved it for my birthday (50 is the bloodborne pathogen birthday):

Second verse, dire as the first...

STARI, STARI,  night.

Flaming rash that brightly blaze,

Swirling rings in reddened haze,

Reflect in Roxanne's eyes of china blue.

Colors changing hue, morning wake of aches & pain,

Weathered faces curse in vain,

Are soothed beneath the traveler's swollen hand. 

Now you understand what I tried to say to ya,

How you suffered tularemia,

Now you fight with edema.

You would not listen, you did not know how.

Perhaps you'll listen now. 

~~~~~

We've been coughing through the smoke and squinting through the haze of the nearest forest fire, which is at the county line.  Firefighters say they need a tropical storm's worth of water to normalize the situation.
~~~~~
I've decided to see all the movies referenced in Science Fiction/Double Feature.  After that, I address homelessness and social justice.  Last night:  The Day the Earth Stood Still.
~~~~~

I've talked about Berkey water filters for years, and at the last minute I veered off-course and bought the Doulton SS2.  

~~~~~

Products that don't work.

It's not true they don't work, because we haven't burned at all.  But, we have cute little tans.

My two-pint shower.

This is a one-gallon lawn sprayer, like you might sling over your shoulder, filled with poison or margarita mix.  You might also rest it on the bench of your shower compartment, filled with hot water.  Different strokes.  I'm not here to judge.

I started out filling it completely with hot water, but by the end of my first shower I had half the container left.   

The next time, I filled it only halfway.  I got wet, I got sudsy, I got rinsed, I got clean.  It was the whole package.  Still half left.  

[PSA:  I just learned that suds have no connection to cleaning power.  I've been sold a bubbly bill of goods.]

Annie tried it, too, and declared it yucky.  And, no.  It's not wonderful like standing under endlessly hot water as though you were in a hotel.  It's wonderful like I don't have to decamp to go get more water.  It's wonderful like I feel and smell as though I just took a shower, because I did.

Have any of you gone no-poo?  I accidentally went SLS (sodium lauryl sulfate)-free when I started using Avalon Organics, and I know that my hair doesn't get as oily, and neither does my face.  I was crediting a phantom menopause, but after I started reading I took back menopause's credit and gave it to an SLS-free product.

I'm curious about no-poo, but a little afraid.  

It's in the water.

I really wanted a Berkey Light, but last night Annie told me it doesn't make beer. I thought about it overnight, and I still want it; I've had this page bookmarked for 18 months. Quite a few companies sell the Berkey line; this one is the least expensive I have found, and they offer a bonus product of your choice. They also sell organic herbs that I have used and liked.

I plotted spaces to store the Berkey Light way back in The Day of the Little Duck. The model I want filters 4.25 gallons of water an hour, and has a three-ish gallon reservoir. Maybe it appeals to the survivalist in me. Survivalists have a crazy-pants reputation, but what's the opposite of survive? I really, really like the idea of using catchment wherever we may be, now that using water that falls from your own roof is legal in most states.

Have a glass of catchment?

[gasp] Is that legal?

Absolutely! Since 2008!

Thank you, I'd love some!




Completely feasible with the cool Berkey system. I would probably buy the model without the LEDs, since the lights don't get great reviews. The systems won't filter salt water, because the salt will quickly foul the filters. Apparently it will filter out food coloring. Dirty Duck, you may want to run your Skittles through one of these.

I have a (misplaced?) fear of water in Arizona. Arizonans, please disabuse me of this fear. OWW QUIT IT! I said disabuse me. That's another reason I like this idea: I can get optional arsenic and fluoride filters (even though I'm not afraid of fluoride).

Something like this had to be down the road when we installed a Nature's Head. Hey, would a Berkey-Light filter urine? Extreme recycling FOR THE WIN. [This is just a question. DO NOT pee into your Berkey.]

Foreshadowing.

You know it when you read it.  An involuntary shudder travels up your spine;  you have knowledge that the character should have, but doesn't.

BREAKING unresolved news: the power just went out in the Duck, but not in the house. Inverter won't come on. GFCI keeps tripping, and I can't find the fault. I just know it's not mine.

*If you care what, but not why, resume reading at the next asterisk.  You'll get no judgement from me.

WHAT WE KNEW: The fault was the two inches of water standing in the converter bay.  The converter scratched out its message to the world and converted its last current. No problem! we thought with delicious literary irony. We have battery back-up and a decent inverter in a separate system.  Plus, we have a brand-new converter hooked up - bring it on.  By morning we had no DC action. No lights, no furnace fan, and once we were down, the LP detector kicked us by shutting off all gas for cooking and hot water (because of the low battery action).

The culprit.  Notice droplets;  do not question why the converter would be in a wet bay.

Tight conditions.  Longshoremen blushed while Annie made these repairs.

After Annie Pex'd it up

WHAT WE DIDN'T KNOW:  The dead converter was converting AC to DC power stored in the chassis battery.  Once our house AC was separated from this system, we were living la vida dulce all night on our starting battery.  [Very, very dead.  Permanently dead.]  The fancy battery bank was useless because the (dead) converter converted AC power from the inverter that had already been converted from DC power in the batteries that had been converted from AC power from the house. 


We spent several cold days and nights not actually considering moving back into the house.   We did dishes in the house and showered in the house, and I can't fully explain why we didn't just put ourselves there for a few days.  I can't.  I don't know.  A need to test our mettle?  I DON'T KNOW.  


Annie found two Optima AGM batteries after talking to our electrician.  One is a new starting battery (R.I.P., Diehard) and the other a new coach battery.  We picked up a battery charger (standby converter) and it is hooked up to the coach battery and the stick house AC.  

Starting (chassis) battery

Marine (hybrid) battery

This isn't the endless loop we experienced earlier, when the house AC powered the batteries which powered the inverter which powered the converter which powered the batteries which powered the inverter which powered the converter.  None of that would be a problem without that pesky Newton and his Suggestions of Thermodynamics.  But, it is a double loop.  


* The second converter is fried and it is an essential component in our system as it is configured.  Annie found an Intelli-Power 9200 at Streetside Auto (the best price, plus free shipping) and may or may not install it today.  If she chooses Option A, she will probably install it upside down on the bay ceiling.  


Sometime this week we got full functionality back, after the new batteries were installed and continuously-charged.  Neither of us can remember when, only that it happened and it was wonderful.

Some Systems Go

This week has given us the chance to actually live in the Big Duck, for fun and to test some systems.

• Water: we have a leak somewhere near the shower inlet, so no running water yet
• Electric: yes, both AC (plugged in) and DC (battery power)
• Toilet: yes and no. The composting toilet is partially functional right now
• Heat: both furnaces work
• Cooking: coffee every morning
• Internet: MT (mooch technology) is effective at close range
• Geese: fully functional

We had propane delivered by the local supplier of propane and propane accessories. An electrician is working to install our inverter and batteries (transferred from the Duckette). We have an appointment with our trailer guy, Bill Fletcher, in May. He will fix the leak, install a solar vent shed for the toilet, and fix any problems we discover before then.

The next phase is to put the Duckette on the market and sell it.


Little Carrot is living large and orange here at the Big Duck. Her new moms made heroic efforts to integrate her into their kitty family; they were very sad that it didn't work out. We were sad to see them so sad, but not sad to take Carrot back with us. We found out she loves to ride, so she may do just fine on the road. Quack Carro-ac.

After three days, we brought Lily over.

They ignore each other. We love that.