Maggotty Mayhem



See my sister’s camper. It comes with all the niceties, great queen-size bed, comfortable furnishings, plush carpeting, lots of storage, and great appliances. After her last trip out, she unpacked her clothes, and after ensuring the camper was hooked to power, left her freezer stocked for the next trip. She’d need all those things next time for sure.

imageAs she packed for this trip and opened the freezer to put in some more goodies, she discovered the tragic aftermath of a power outage leaving her with the putrid remains of her previously frozen food mounded up with writhing maggots. The frisky, fat maggots seized the opportunity to leap for freedom all down the front of her shirt, leaving her awash in foul juices and previous generations of incarcerated maggots.  When her son called in the middle of the fiasco, he was appalled to learn such valuable fishing bait had been Continue reading

Common Sense and the Camper (Part 2)

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CamperOne of the great benefits of my parent’s cross-country camping trip was that they had the opportunity to share their cab-over camper for three weeks with two hormone-ridden teenage girls.  For some reason, they’d taken leave of their senses and forced my sixteen-year-old sister Marilyn to accompany them, though she could have stayed with either me or Phyllis, either of whom were as married and dull as Mother and Daddy ever thought of being.  They sweetened the pot by letting her friend Rhonda who became every bit as unpleasant as Marilyn after a few snug hours together.

In the way of teenagers everywhere, the girls snored snugly in their bunks all day as the camper passed the glorious sites of the Americas.  As a result, both were wide-awake and ready to go when they stopped to make camp every evening.  At an RV camp in Las Vegas, two young ladies who looked to have complicated social situations dawdled about the office as they checked in.  Before, I go on with this story, you need to know, my dad was a no-nonsense “I ain’t worried if you like me.  I’m your Daddy” kind of guy.  He didn’t put up with any nonsense.  He pointed out that RV Camp Girls looked trampy.  Though Marilyn and Rhonda didn’t even talk to them, they got a nice lecture just in case they’d ever thought of dressing or acting “like them trashy gals,”  a term he often used make a point and make his girls’ blood boil.

They made camp and cooked supper outdoors.  About ten o’clock as their evening drew to a close Daddy told his disgusted girls it was about time to turn out the lights and settle in for the night.  After a long day of napping, naturally, they dawdled.  After a couple of warnings, just as the lights went out, there was a knock at the camper door.  He opened it to find the two young lovelies they’d seen at the office earlier in the day.  One of them was obviously pregnant below her brief halter-top.

“Can your girls go out for a while?  We’ve got dates for them?” they asked, invitingly.

Behind him, Mother and the big-eyed girls waited for him to explode into a vitriolic diatribe at their request.  Instead, he replied as calmly as if he had been at a tea-party and asked if he wanted “one lump or two.”

“Well, I guess not, but thanks for inviting them.  We have to leave pretty early in the morning.”

Pigs flew and Hell froze over.

Crow’s Mischief at Little Missouri River: A Fly-Fishing Tale

Bud loves fly-fishing. We camped at Dynamite Hill Campground near the Little Missouri River in Arkansas. Before daylight, I had coffee, sausage, biscuits, and eggs on our picnic table, under the tall pines. We enjoyed breakfast as the sun came up over the hills. Since it was a brisk morning and we weren’t concerned about spoilage, we wrapped our leftover sausage biscuits in foil and left them on the picnic table for the second breakfast we anticipated when Bud came back from his morning’s fishing. I took the opportunity to snuggle back under the covers with the dogs.

As I snoozed off and on through the morning, I noticed the birds were noisier than those at home. Near ten, I put on another pot of coffee, expecting Bud to show up soon.

I heard Bud shouting before I saw him. “Get out of here, you dirty little 4$.(@/s.” Mumble, rhrrrr, grumble!” I saw a rock fly skyward, then another, as I stepped out with a cup of hot coffee. The picnic table was littered with tattered scraps of napkins. Not a sausage biscuit remained! The jam was overturned. Had they only had opposable thumbs, I’m sure they’d have emptied the jar. As I glanced skyward. I saw the sun shining on bits of foil decorating the lower branches. A further inspection revealed that the observant crows had taken every sausage biscuit. Only a few crumbs lay neglected. Had Bud only been a few minutes later, they’d have been history, too. The crows didn’t seem a bit grateful, offering only raucous complaints at Bud’s fist-shaking, rock-throwing deprecations.

Vacation Men/Women

Repost of an old post

Bud went camping and trout fishing with a buddy for a few days.  We shared the drama of list-making, packing, and lengthy instructions on all that needed attention while he was gone.  In the spirit of a true imbecile, I prepared enough easy food for an army, all homemade of course.  I never purchase quick foods.  He left with an ice-chest stuffed with boiled eggs, sausage biscuitDavis Creek campingts, chicken salad, and pimento cheese spread, all the high-cholesterol joy a couple of guys could wish for.  The guys left in high spirits.

While he was gone, I gardened, worked in the yard, wrote, went out to lunch a couple of times, and crocheted.  I didn’t cook.  I didn’t clean, till today.  I didn’t shop for groceries.  I wonder who had the best vacation?

Consequences

A straightforward, impressive woman, Eva was a CPA working for a prestigious business firm in Washington DC. Her husband Charles was a CPA for the federal government. Together, they had built an enviable life including a beautiful home in the suburbs with five children. A nanny/housekeeper cared for their home and children.

Things went well for about fifteen years until an audit revealed that Eva had been doing a bit creative bookkeeping. When it all unraveled, Eva was given the choice of prosecution or repayment. As you would expect from someone who was embezzling, Eva and Charles had no cash reserves.

They sold their house. Charles borrowed from his retirement and both cashed in their whole life insurance. By hook or crook, Eva was able to repay what she’d stolen and avoid prison. Of course, she lost her CPA credentials. Charles’s job was unaffected.

They took the last of their meager funds and bought a tent which they pitched in a national park. Along with their children, they crowded into the tent with their business clothes. Eva got another job in business, though not as a CPA.

Every morning, the family dressed in the bath house at the park and headed off to work and school. The kids caught the bus at the park entrance. They lived this way for six months until they managed to save up for an apartment. They had to move their tent every two weeks to meet park requirements. The kids rather liked the perpetual camping though Eva and Charles were heartily glad to get a roof over their heads again.

Despite their setbacks, the couple managed to stay together till most of their children were grown, eventually divorcing for some other reason. When I knew Eva, she was in her sixties and my children’s summer caregiver. I was thoroughly surprised when she told me this story and often wondered how her story played out afterwards.

Fifty Dollars Worth of Camper

th3EKZ50VW bus 2See this great old school bus.  It is so much nicer than the one Daddy acquired for the unbelievable sum of fifty dollars. He purchased it from his brother-in-law, who’d gotten stuck with it as payment body work.  Daddy was ahead of his time In acquiring this Tiny House.  Mother was furious.  Fifty dollars would have bought more than two week’s supply of groceries.  Though he gave Mother no end of grief about her extravagant spending at the grocery store, he wasn’t short-sighted and saw the great potential in this bus-camper.  It would be a wonderful shelter when he and his buddies went deer hunting, and oh yes, the family could use it for camping, too!  Now our camper wasn’t nearly so nice as the one pictured above.  It had been partially hand-painted bright silver and lacked a motor. The good news was, we could finish it up any color we liked and motors take up a lot of unnecessary space better used for storage.  In that special storage area, items were stored in boxes on one deep shelf or in  boxes on the floor beneath the shelf.  While the rest of us were out fishing, swimming, or just running wild in general, Mother drug boxes out and dug through them for dishes, pots and pans, and food, all this with two babies in diapers.  She complained about her back constantly.  What a whiner!

.nice inside

See how comfortable and well-appointed the camper pictured above is.  Ours was nothing like this.  There was no refrigerator, lighting, water, bathroom, hard-wood floors, or Benjamin Franklin wood burning stove.  There was, however, an ancient gas range Daddy hooked to a propane bottle.  It had two functioning burners and a defunct oven.  That was okay, since Mother insisted it had a propane leak and she was scared to use it longer than it took to heat a can of beans or cook eggs.  She cooked with all the windows open and made Daddy cut the fuel off every time she got through.  In fact, it did have a propane leak in the line, but that’s a story for another day.

Two full-size bunk beds filled the rear of the camper.  Two sets of old army bunks were stacked along either side.  Of course, we fought over the top bunks.  The lower bunks served as seating.  A lantern and flash lights served when light was needed.

It was perfect.  I remember one wonderful camping trip when Daddy pulled it to a creek bank.  We swam, fished, swatted mosquitoes, cooked outdoors, only going in to sleep, so exhausted we hardly moved till morning.  Mother got up several times every night to spray to camper with bug killer and spray the covers and any exposed skin with mosquito repellent.  We scratched bug bites and poison ivy for days after we got home.

That was our only family camping trip.  Daddy used it a time or two for hunting, then gave it up as too much trouble.  It had a couple of other incarnations as a home for a farm laborer who confirmed the stove fuel line leak before it descended so far down the social scale it ended life as a junk shed on Daddy’s farm.

To me, that camper was worth every cent!

Maggotty Mayhem

 



My sister’s new, new camper came with all the niceties: great queen-size bed, comfortable furnishings, plush carpeting, lots of storage, and nice appliances. After her last trip out, she unpacked her clothes, and after ensuring the camper was hooked to power, left her freezer stocked for the next trip. She’d need all those things next time for sure.

imageAs she packed for this trip and opened the freezer to put in some more goodies, she discovered the tragic aftermath of a power outage leaving her with the putrid remains of her previously frozen food mounded up with writhing maggots. The frisky, fat maggots seized the opportunity to leap for freedom all down the front of her shirt, leaving her awash in foul juices and previous generations of incarcerated maggots.  When her son called in the middle of the fiasco, he was appalled to learn such valuable fishing bait had been Continue reading

Maggotty Mayhem



See my sister’s camper. It comes with all the niceties, great queen-size bed, comfortable furnishings, plush carpeting, lots of storage, and great appliances. After her last trip out, she unpacked her clothes, and after ensuring the camper was hooked to power, left her freezer stocked for the next trip. She’d need all those things next time for sure.

imageAs she packed for this trip and opened the freezer to put in some more goodies, she discovered the tragic aftermath of a power outage leaving her with the putrid remains of her previously frozen food mounded up with writhing maggots. The frisky, fat maggots seized the opportunity to leap for freedom all down the front of her shirt, leaving her awash in foul juices and previous generations of incarcerated maggots.  When her son called in the middle of the fiasco, he was appalled to learn such valuable fishing bait had been Continue reading

Wordless Wednesday

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