Sometimes I really think we erred in getting the Ford and shouldda wouldda couldda kept the Westy. Before we’d settled on the trailer/van combination, I put serious consideration (and argument) towards bringing both the Westy and the Van (VW, 1985). I figured we’d have lots of room; could split he kids up between the two vans and we’d pretty much be able to go anywhere. Boy, I am really regretting that I didn’t put more effort into that argument. I can’t fault the AmeriCamp for a second; I love the roominess and ability to bring everything including the kitchen sink, but we are REALLY limited in our ability to move freely. Yesterday I was barfing (Sissy made it a point (ad nauseum) to inform Tata that I had "her" (Tata’s) sickness) so Jamie decided to take the kids out of the trailer. The kids always freak when I barf (maybe they think mommybarf=new baby?) and become more needy than humanly possible.

When I’m at the point that I’m simply dizzy; not barfing, and decide to make clam chowder with the yummy clams (though I must admit that I really have NO stomach for clams - they really do not appeal to me at all, but dried mussels…in Puerto Montt (south of Santiago) in Chile (it is pretty much the last city before the endless archipelago and Coyaquie (I know I spelled that wrong) (and yes, I’m going for a record on tangents and parentheses) you go to the market and everywhere you look you can find a string (much like a string of garlic or chiles) of dried mussels and they are simply YUMMY and boy oh boy could I go for some RIGHT now). Hmmm…I just might be lost in thought for a while here - go on without me; I’m back in Puerto Montt…

Jesse hooks a chain to his truck and the other to our van and without even so much as a wimper or increase in RPM’s or the slightest inclination that there was a 7500lb anchor at the end of the chain, the super truck pulls the van out of the 17ft hole it had fallen into. Like butter. Like there was nothing more than a tiny little red wagon at the end of the chain. That truck was magnificent.

Anyway, today we’re cleaning up (after being in Jesse’s gorgeously clean truck, I am determined to clean up the van) and maybe later we’ll head for town and buy crap we don’t need. It is overcast today and we’re freezing in shorts. Someone feel sorry for us. Please?
Yes, the pictures liberally sprinkled throughout this post have absolutely nothing to do with the post. I have a picture of the stuck Ford, but need to get it off the camera and onto the net. Manana.
No comments:
Post a Comment