What happened a couple of days ago to our neighbors is the RVer’s worst nightmare.
They’re (or I should say were) in the big Class A motorhome parked right beside us, and they’re a big family from Michigan: three generations staying in two adjacent RVs for the full winter season, and they’ve done so for the past three decades, if I remember right.
But two days ago, the dad my age was in Costco and fell straight down from a heart attack. Someone next to him performed CPR, and then someone else brought over a defibrillator. They got his heart restarted and him to the nearby hospital, installed a stint, and it looks like he’s on his way to a long recovery.
Since then we’ve watched the scramble the family’s been in to rearrange their lives here so far from home. Dave, the dad in the hospital, is the one who managed all the mechanizations of the motorhome he and his wife and daughters are in, including towing their Jeep with bikes, paddle boards, and a boat. The plan is for his father-in-law to drive the whole rig to an RV park near the hospital so the family can move from the hotel they’re in now to be in their RV (and not have it sitting here abandoned), and then I don’t know what the father-in-law will do about his RV. All I know is it took a small army of helpers three days to get Dave’s RV ready for the road without the one guy present who knows what’s what with it.
There but before the grace of something or other go I.
Right now though, since the father in law pulled Dave’s RV away, we’re appreciating the sunshine on our trailer that’s suddenly been revealed. We’ve got three days ahead of high winds and chilly weather, so you betcha I’m sitting in the tent feeling the sun and enjoying the view while I can.
You may remember back at our first campsite, after leaving Small Country where we quarantined, I was so thrilled to be in the privacy of the forest that I recorded a tweaked version of the old traditional, Dark Hollow, while sitting under the awning with failing rain as my back-up band (recording link is near the end of the post, but it ain’t special).
While our neighbors were parked beside us, I turned that old love-sick song on its head, singing, “I’d rather be in this Class A holler.” And, appropriately, this time my back-up band is the noise of the busy campground.
I’m sure another big bus will move in right beside us today and I’ll be singing the Class A Holler blues once more, but in the meantime I’m enjoying the sunshine here.
(Sorry for the not-great signing; the wind is blowing and a storm is threatening so I hurried. Despite current evidence, I have actually improved my playing and singing, even since a few of you heard my recent, “Long Black Veil,” which, for the improved version I’m prouder than punch that Finn said I “nailed it” the other day. But all that’s not directly related to these adventures, so I’ll keep it out of this blog.)
What I will throw in are pictures Tracy took while kayaking the other day. He simply leaned over, slipped his waterproof camera down beside the kayak, and aimed blindly at a ray swimming by. Aren’t these incredible!?!
You guys stay safe, now.