Hello! It’s me!
That’s a look of utter “frazzlement”, #amirite?
Why am I experiencing the condition known as “frazzlement”??? I’ll tell you why. It’s because the past few days were a veritable threat-o-rama. Want proof?
Yeah … all of a sudden there is an outburst from the rusted metals community.
Over the weekend we were camping on Lopez Island. Dad and I ran across a deer who pulled off this stunt:
Yeah, Bambi comes all up in our faces with the “hey, get outta my orchard” deal and I said “hey, it’s a free country” and Bambi said “you’re not gonna be here this time or next time or anytime” and I said “does anybody really know what time it is?” and then Dad coaxed me back to the RV to listen to some smooth grooves on Yacht Rock Radio.
Tonight I’m roaming the campground here in Pendleton and I’m introduced to a new threat.
For a moment I thought I was going to be in the middle of a gunfight at the OK Corral. After all, we’re out here in the Wild West.
Sometimes these threats aren’t actual threats … they’re perceived threats. Take Suki, my new best friend, all of ten weeks old.
She showed me how to jump into a mini-lake on a summer afternoon. I showed her how to evaluate whether a Chupacabra invasion was imminent.
At times I build up a lot of nervous energy. Who can blame me? There are threats everywhere. Mom & Dad have nearly exhausted my supply of crunchables on this trip in an effort to calm perpetual frazzlement.
The exhaustion can be overwhelming.
When Mom tells me that we’re going to go see friends, my countenance quickly rebounds.
Or at least my countenance adjusts. And that picture isn’t very flattering, Dad.
On Wednesday I got to see a bunch of dear friends at the Mullis Center!
I even got my picture included in their newsletter. I mean, I’m kind of a big deal (that one is for Tim/Kathy, enjoy, I’ll be here all week).
On Thursday I was abandoned for large swaths of the day while Mom & Dad played Pickleball.
And when they weren’t playing Pickleball, they were gorging themselves on fine wine and fine dining at Roche Harbor.
Over the weekend Mom visited her friend Sheila, and a cohort of quilters crafted themselves into a veritable froth. When I wasn’t being threatened by hooved ruminants from the Cervidae family, I strolled along the ocean.
Dad and I hung out in the RV on a rainy Saturday while Mom & Crew dazzled the assembled masses.
Unfortunately, you’ve heard about Dad being smitten by Spam, right?
Well, on Saturday Dad decided to fry up some Spam. While attempting to finalize the crusty crunchiness of the edges of the Spam, Dad set off the RV smoke detector. That’s one threat too many as far as I am concerned. The sheer terror of a high pitched sound sent me into an inconsolable puddle of emotions.
Please visit my website to watch me shiver myself silly (click here).
While Mom continued craft-o-rama on Sunday, Dad and I headed to the mainland to prepare for our trip home. Once we arrived at the campground outside of Anacortes, I was assigned the job of assessing the potential of yet another threat-o-rama.
Only the skies were threatening.
Last night Mom & Dad enjoyed a “Last Supper” of sorts, as they celebrated what has been an amazing trip.
Mom brought me the wine list, and while I assessed whether there were any threats on the menu, something interesting popped up. Here’s the wine list.
FYI – no butter Laurie. None. #sigh
My Mom grew up in Wautoma … Wisconsin … but there is apparently wine from Wautoma Springs in Washington State. And it turned out that Wautoma Springs is a real thing (click here). Who knew?
This morning Mom & Dad informed me that it was time to head home. We’re on Day 36 of this epic journey. We said goodbye to the Pacific Northwest … for as Seals & Crofts once said, “we may never pass this way again” … you never know what
threats life will throw at you.
Now, when you are riding next to Dad, you want to make sure that Dad is well-protected. Multi-lane freeways are the very definition of threat-o-rama. So I make sure that I have Dad’s leg protected at all times. Like this:
Did you see what’s going on there? Allow me to zero in a bit:
Absolutely nothing is going to happen to Dad when I’ve got him covered with a drumstick.
We drove close to seven hours today, arriving in Pendleton, Oregon … at the very foot of the Blue Mountains.
We are spending the evening at a KOA in Pendleton. As per usual, there are random threats against the canine species.
Somebody is filming me while I go to the bathroom? WTH?
Speaking of “What The H$(#??”
Anyway, there’s a real chance that we’ll land in Utah by the end of tomorrow, and be more than halfway home. Odds are we’ll be home on Thursday, which would be Day 39 of our journey … a personal best for RV trips for Mom & Dad.
Of course, we have to cross the Blue Mountains to get there. You never know when another threat-o-rama will break out, do you?