Couch Surfing

Well, not really a couch, it’s a futon.  My kids have worked very diligently to make me feel welcome in their home. They made up “the man cave” into the guest room. We’ve been cohabiting just fine, but its time. I want my own bed back! I was homeless for a time during my divorce—never “on the street homeless,” but living with friends, sleeping on their couches. Tommy and I shared a friend's front porch trundle bed for a while, so despite everyone's best intentions, emotionally, I was having a rough time of it. My real frustration is with Camping World in Kingston—my experience with them thus far is that they're always understaffed and over-worked. I rarely talk to the same service writer twice, and despite the RV being promised to me, all fixed and finished on Friday the 31st, they never even looked at it until about then. The timeline, like everything with those guys is unclear.

Read More

The Break Something Every Day Tour

Not really my bike. It hurt too much to photograph it.

Not really my bike. It hurt too much to photograph it.

I went to town this morning to get groceries and gas, and also to drive a while to charge up the House Batteries. Something is causing them to discharge about every four or five hours. This is worrisome and annoying. I have a couple of ideas about what might be the problem, so a visit to the mechanic must be added to my itinerary. :-(

Beautiful early summer morning, I was singing along with my iPod, on my way back from picking up the groceries. Suddenly, I heard a new sound, a very loud scraping sound. I immediately thought my muffler or tail-pipe was dragging, but when I looked in the rear view camera, I saw a black shape following me, and my guts clenched as I realized that my brand-new bike had bounced off the bike rack, and I was dragging it along behind the rig.  Nothing for it, with  a few cars behind me, I had to put my four-ways on and just drive on to a point of safety, where I could to pull off the road a bit. I was really upset, and horrified at the damage, but I had to literally pick up the pieces, and move on.

No one was hurt. The damage can be repaired. There were lessons learned: the bike-rack flexes a bit, and the heavier electric bike must be mounted on the inside slot. I need to use straps as well as bungie cords and the Velcro straps. And, it's only money.

My home is on wheels. It is five-years-old. Everything bounces and vibrates as I drive around in it. Drawers pop open and break, shades flop down obscuring my vision, creating a cave-like atmospherenot unlike the Manhattan apartment I left, to embark on this journey. I won’t go into the entire list here, but every day, there are things that need fixing.

The good news is that I have glue, duct tape, sticky-back Velcro, small screws and nails, and a tool bag. And a little bit of money. As in any home, I guess I’ll need to keep a punch list going. Maybe I'll put up one of my old business cards: The HandyWench lives here!