FAMILY FUN

Gassing up the RV and boat on the way to Lake Elsinore

We got a late start on our spur of the moment trip to Lake Elsinore.  My sister and her family led the way, towing their boat with their RV, and me following behind in my new truck, Ruby Red.  We didn’t pull into the campground until 9 PM, then had to drive around for an hour to find the perfect spot.  We were weary, but once we got settled in, it all seemed worth it.  The teenagers went fishing by the light of a full moon and the grownups sat in the RV enjoying adult beverages and conversation.

There was a beautiful big ring around the moon that my camera failed to capture

 The boys slept in the back of my car like manly men and I got to enjoy a real bed in the RV.  I had a bit of company too, male and female.  They hogged the bed but I can't complain because they kept me warm.

Sleeping with the dogs

The sun was pretty lazy making an appearance the next day, so it wasn’t until afternoon that we ventured out with the boat.  We spent the morning hanging out in the motor home.  I decided to make a trip to the restroom and asked the kids where it was.  They said to just go toward the dock and turn right but when I went outside, I stood uncertainly, not sure which way to go.  Suddenly over the RV intercom, came the  blaring voice of someone who shall remain nameless (my helpful nephew, Mitch).  “Diane, the bathroom is to your right.  Turn around and look to your right.”  He went on and on with his loud instructions and I smiled, pretending not to be embarrassed.  Then a very nice park ranger appeared in front of me and said, “Are you looking for the bathroom, Ma'am?”  OK, it was official.  I was embarrassed beyond words.  Just then the RV horn started honking loudly.  Not just a short little toot, mind you, but  an obnoxious HOOOOOOONK that seemed to last forever.  I found out later that Kyle was laughing so hard at my humiliation that he fell forward onto the horn. Apparently he had fallen and couldn't get up.

The park ranger politely pointed me towards the bathroom, which by the way, was NOT to the right.  I prayed to become invisible but now people in cars driving by and a lady walking her dog were all smiling at me knowingly.  I lowered my head and hunched my shoulders in shame, glaring at the RV window.  Feeling like Quasimodo swinging through the bell tower, I lurched toward my destination.  

 

Quasimodo. Photo from the internet. Not really me.

Ruby Red pulling the boat

That's my car pulling us in the boat. Gotta be proud. Oh yeah, that's my son. Proud of him too.

We used Ruby Red to launch the boat.  Mitch backed my truck down the launch ramp while I sat in the boat watching nervously and wringing my hands.  “Um, is my truck supposed to be in the water like that??”  But Mitch knew what he was doing.  His dad has taught him well.

This is my brother in law, Bill. He loves his family, boats, and his Basset Hound, Sadie.

This was the first time my dogs had been on a boat.  My Retriever, Chelsea, was a nervous mess.  She’s just high strung, always has been, and I gave her a Dramamine to take the edge off.  Chester looked pretty nervous too, but Chester is Chill.  He just handles things a little more calmly.  (Unless he sees another dog, but that’s another story.)

 

Take a chill pill, Chelsea

We motored to the other side of the lake and found a quiet cove.  Chairs were plopped on the beach, a CD played party music, and lunch was served.  Nothing better than a restaurant on the water.  

The family that sails together...

I like this place. I like it a lot.

Kyle has abs!

Cousins

Life is good.....Ommmmmm

Calli went for a run and all the dogs followed her.  She looked like a trainer at the San Diego Zoo.  My two big dogs romped happily after her, along with their Chihuahua, Pomeranian and Basset Hound.  

Just do what I do

Come on, Chelsea, the water's fine (Chelsea's not so sure)

Mitch had a jet ski and entertained us, showing off his skills.  Then he gave lessons to his sister, Calli, and my son, Kyle.

My nephew, Mitch, Star Athlete

Not sure if Mitch is teaching Kyle to be a zombie or to jet ski. Chester's not sure either. He's outta there.

Go Kyle Go!

My niece is a Pro!

Chester kept a constant vigil in the water and on the beach.  He seemed very concerned when he couldn’t see the kids on the jet ski and trotted down the beach to see where they were.  When the jet ski came toward shore, he swam out to help it find its way in.  He was my hero dog all afternoon, making sure everyone was safe. 

Which way did they go??

"Follow me!"

"Don;t go too far!"

Everyone OK up there on the boat?

And now for a Basset Hound moment

Sadie thinks she's a lap dog

The sun was nice and warm sitting on that shore, but when we headed back on the boat, the wind kicked up, making us uncomfortably cold.  My sister and I sat in the back of the boat and pulled blankets around us.  Then the white caps started splashing water over the boat, drenching us.  Now we were really cold and miserable.  We all screamed at Bill, thinking he was doing it on purpose.  (He’s been known to do that in the past, but only on hot summer days.)  It wasn’t his fault, though, and there was “nothing he could do”.  (That’s an inside joke that only my sister will get.  I’ll explain another time.)  I huddled down on the floor which was now soaking wet and Laura covered our heads with a big blanket.  I couldn’t see anything anymore, huddled in my makeshift tent, but I could hear the waves slapping the sides of the boat, and splashing on the blanket which was right over my head!  All the dogs were huddled under the blanket with us.  They were uncomfy too!  The ride back sure seemed to take a lot longer than the ride out.  I was happy when the splashing stopped and peeked daringly out of my covers to see that we were drifting by the dock.  Whew.  We were all soaked and shivering and couldn’t wait to get back to the campground to change into something dry and warm.

Bill is a master griller and made us some delicious BBQ chicken.  My sister, niece and I made a dessert that was the absolute bomb.  It was a brownie s’more.  Picture a hot, gooey brownie topped with a Reese’s peanut butter cup and a golden, roasted marshmallow on top of that!  My mouth is watering just thinking about it.  Sorry, have to go now.  I’m hungry.

. 

AN INNOCENT WALK WITH THE DOGS

Beautiful San Pasqual Valley

Today’s post is another one of my many, many helpful hints on how to avoid an awkward and embarrassing situation.  It should be under the heading: Don’t Let This Happen To You, and you should really be thanking me.  I suffer so much for all of you.  Really.

Driving back from visiting my horse one beautiful afternoon, I decided to stop at the San Dieguito River Park staging area to take my dogs for a quick walk.  It was shortly before 6PM, the sun was still high and warm in the sky, and I set off with my trusty Lab and Retriever to enjoy the scenic view of the San Pasqual Valley.  Of course you know that all horror stories start off with someone innocently enjoying beautiful and seemingly harmless surroundings.

Lalala, so innocently walking along...

Aw nature

Feeling invigorated and looking forward to a nice dinner with my son, I loaded up the dogs and started my truck.  As I rolled toward the entrance/exit, I noticed a curious thing.  The gate was closed.  Uhoh.  This wasn’t good.  I was locked in.  

What the ...?

Trying not to panic, I calmly got out of my car and went to examine the metal gate that had cruelly and unfairly decided to imprison me.   I tugged on it, but it wasn’t budging and was clearly a motorized contraption which couldn't be forced open.  A couple people drove up and looked at me sympathetically.  The driver said, “Wow, they usually close this gate at sunset but this seems really early.” 

“But why would they lock it with a car still parked inside??” I asked indignantly. 

“It shuts automatically.” was the driver’s reply.  “Sorry, don’t know how to help you.”  She smiled and waved, then drove away.  I waved back and stared forlornly at the back of her car as the tires kicked dust in my face.  Lucky girl.  She was free and I was not.

OK, now I was panicking a little.  The gate had a sign on it saying something about the Fire Department, so I called them.  I clicked through all the automated buttons (“If you know your party’s extension, press blah blah blah.  Sadly, none of the options said, "If you are an idiot locked inside a park, press ...”) and I could not reach a live person.  The voice recording said to call 911 if it was an emergency.  Well, it was sort of an emergency.  I sure didn’t want to spend the night there!

I felt so dumb calling 911 and explaining my situation.  The nice emergency lady was sympathetic even though she said they didn’t usually get calls of this nature.  I apologized and explained that only robots were answering the Fire Department phone and I didn’t know what else to do.  She asked for my specific location and said she would call the Escondido Police to see if they could come help me.  She wasn’t sure they had a key to the gate but didn’t know what else to recommend.  She gave me their number to call “in case there is a delay”.  What did that mean?  In case I’m stuck here until midnight or they never show up at all?  I couldn’t find a piece of paper to write on, so I scrawled the number on the palm of my hand with a permanent marker.  I was getting scared now.  How long was I going to be here?  

 

I called my son to let him know I was in prison and didn’t know what time I would be home.  He told me later that he couldn’t understand a word I was saying.  Panic must have set in, turning my words to gibberish.  In the middle of my crazy ranting, a sign suddenly appeared in my peripheral vision.  Yes, a real metal sign with words on it, stuck in the ground, just to the right of my windshield.  Clearly I hadn’t seen it before because I had gone temporarily blind from panic.  This is a scientific fact that I’m sure many, many, many people besides just me have suffered from during extreme anxiety.  Right?

The sign said:

Here's the sign which is obviously kind of vague and invisible to some highly intelligent people

“Um, Kyle, I’ll call you back.”  I muttered into the phone.  Oh no.  Could I really be this daft?  (Don’t answer.  Please.) In my defense, I must say that the sign was off to the right, kind of out of my line of vision. Plus I had that Panic Blindness, remember? I turned the car on and pulled forward a mere 2 inches and the gate magically opened, freeing me at last.

Shamed and humiliated, I called to cancel my frantic and unnecessary emergency call, then got the hell out of there.

So there you have it, my lesson for the day.  When you are feeling scared and hopeless, take time to look for signs, because there just might be one you hadn’t noticed before.

By the way, in case you need to reach the Escondido Police Station, just ask me.  The number is still tattooed in permanent marker on the palm of my hand.

Little Bunny BooBoo

My little backyard has a view of a sparkling pond in the golf course below.  A swinging chair is positioned for enjoying the sunshine reflecting off the water. This is where I like to relax and unwind at the end of the day, watching the ducks splash and frolic, and snickering at the golfers who accidentally slice their golf balls into the pond. 

So I was swinging peacefully in my chair, enthralled in a good book and listening to the sounds of the ducks, the birds in the trees, and a strange squeaky toy sound.  Wait, what?  I looked up from my book to see my Golden Retriever, Chelsea, nudging the source of the squeaky sound around on the ground. Only it wasn’t a chew toy, it was a cute, tiny little bunny squealing in terror!  I shrieked at Chelsea, who reluctantly backed away. The poor creature was lying on its back, flailing its tiny legs helplessly in the air. 

Don't let that innocent face fool you. This is Chelsea. Currently serving Hard Time for bunny terrorizing.

I picked him up and set him on his feet, expecting him to scurry off, but he just sat there, stunned, unmoving. One of his legs looked like it might be hurt. He was so cute and tiny, he fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.   He looked just like a little toy, so I could understand Chelsea's momentary confusion. Snuggling him against my chest, he still didn’t move or complain, just stared straight ahead wiggling his cutesy-wutsey little nose.  I couldn’t really tell if he was sick, hurt, or just terrorized,  and I know how fragile bunnies are.  They can literally be scared to death.  So I rocked in my swinging chair in the sunshine, trying to comfort Tiny Bunny BooBoo.  

That's Chester in the background. He's innocent.

First I put him in a box lined with paper towels.  

Then I decided he wouldn’t survive if I left him outside in the cold night air so I put him in an old bird cage with grass, shredded carrot and sugar water and brought him inside.  I put a cushy towel in there and he snuggled inside like it was a nest.  I kept talking to him and petting his velvety little ears but he just sat there, unblinking, unmoving.  His little eyes were only half open and I hoped he wasn’t in pain.  How do you tell?  I just couldn’t get him to open up to me.  Hmmmm, same problem I have with my son.  He just doesn’t want to tell me what’s on his mind.   

The dogs were somewhat curious, sniffing at him occasionally and my parrot kept getting off her perch, clicking her little bird nails across the tile floor and climbing on Bunny’s cage for closer examination. 

This is Tangerine. She has a long rap sheet. Her crimes: Disturbing the Peace, Vandalism, Food Theft, Invading Bunny's Privacy

I shooed everybody away, covered the cage with a big beach towel and hoped he’d survive the night. 

Fearing the worst, I lifted the corner of the towel the next morning.  To my great relief, his nose was still wiggling, his eyes were bright and clear and he seemed more alert.   

 

I placed the cage outside in the sunshine so he would be in familiar surroundings.  Later that afternoon, I returned to the swinging chair, cradling him in my lap.  I petted and talked to him and asked if he was OK.  I was pleased to see him looking so much better and put him on the ground to see what he’d do.   

His leg seemed better, and he hopped tentatively at first, then disappeared in a flash, off to points unknown in my yard.  I was relieved, wished him well and tried not to be sad that he didn’t bother to say thank you or goodbye.  Kids.