Day One on the Newfie Express

Posted: June 1, 2013 in Just Sayin', RV, Tourism, Travel
Tags: , , , , , ,

Okay, ya got me:  I posted that last bit for the sole purpose of distracting you from the fact that I didn’t actually write anything on Day 1.  To my credit (or maybe just to validate my laziness), pretty much nothing happened on the first day of our Newfie Adventure.  The sad truth is that the highlight of our entire day was a small flurry of excitement caused by a “low tire pressure” light coming on just before we pulled in for the night.  We figured we were screwed.  As it turned out, we were right.  (Oh, you’re so gonna groan.)  We had a slow leak caused by (yep, you guessed it) a screw in the right rear tire.

If you’re expecting an apology for the foregoing gratuitous corniness, fuggedaboudit.  It was a very slow news day and corny is all I got.

It was stinking hot yesterday –  90 degrees F, plus a honkin’ humidex making it actually somewhere around 125 F (I just made that up – uneventful day, remember?).  Dear ole Bob figured out how to work the air conditioner in the trailer without blowing stuff up, a skill I have yet to master.

You’ll recall (or perhaps not) from our Southwest Adventure that Bob is the Doer of All Things, while I am the Designated Turnip and, as such, am not to be trusted with even the simplest of tasks.  We’re working on that.  By “we,” I mean me.

Permit me to illustrate:

This morning, when we were breaking camp, I finished up my few meagre “inside” chores so I went out to help (HAH!) Bob with the outside ones.  He was busy tweaking something vital (I’m sure), so I said, “I’m gonna go shut off the water.”

“Uh huh…” he replied (distractedly).

As I rounded the back of the trailer and headed for the post with the hookup stuff on it (is there an actual name for that post?), I heard his little light come on in the form  of a tiny squeak.  Then there was a sort of a whoosh! as he blew by me headed for the post.  “NO!” I shrieked, “MY do it!”  He skidded to a stop and tried to hide the look of horror on his face.  “Nuh…nuh…okay….” he spluttered, eyes darting feverishly between the post and me.

Just to clarify here, I wasn’t about to disarm a bomb with my eyebrow tweezers or perform neurosurgery with my sewing kit, I was about to turn a knob.  If you’ve ever turned water either on or off, then you’ll have mastered this move yourself.

So, with an almost euphoric sense of suffragetteness, I, under the hawklike scrutiny of  The Supreme Bobness, shut the water off.  Alas, that was the extent to which my newly acquired skill set was to be tested – he stepped in and unscrewed the hose himself because gawd only knows how many ways that could have gone sadly awry.

 

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Comments
  1. Too much stress for me.

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