Most RV parks empty out by 10 AM becoming ghost towns without souls.
We’re up and eager to go about 8 AM or so, and Ruby’s ready to roll.
Pointy pine trees and oleanders not yet blooming line the California freeways,
Palm trees and locust trees with purplish blooms decorate some driveways.
Few birds of prey did I see today, but many red-winged black birds did fly my way.
I saw a jackrabbit and a big-eared deer and cattle at feedlots being steered
To the slaughterhouse to be butchered for burgers and steaks, I hear.
Orchards of olive trees grow here, “Can we stop please stop at Arby’s?”
Across the roads the tumbleweed blows into the farmers’ fences,
This dried up plant has no roots and goes wherever the wind is.
To prevent range fires from burning wild, these balls of dried-up branches
Are raked into piles to be burned by local firemen to protect the nearby ranches.
“Wake up,” said Tom to Kay who was napping, “Look at that skyline.”
“It’s Sacramento, home of the Governator who is trying to get California in line.”
In the distance, snow capped mountains we can see.
The roads are lined with red bud trees and orange poppies.
Ruby is towing us on I-5 at 55, she is not allowed to go any faster,
And up these hills she could not, even if we asked her.
That monster mountain up ahead iced with white snow powder
Is really an active volcano that long ago spewed lava and ashes out of her.
Mt. Shasta looms high and grand in the blue sky ahead,
That’s where we will stop for the night to eat, shower, then go to bed.
Tomorrow we will be on the road again driving back to Brookings,
Where we will fetch our cats and stuff before we go a-looking
For more awesome sights and scenes that take our breath away,
And there will be more time for Kay to stop for photo-ops and say,
“Home is where park it, so where will we park it today?”
We pass Medford where we sold our comfy GMC,
And Ashland where we might eventually want to be.
Then at Grant’s Pass, we take Route 199 toward lily fields and sea.
Ruby is not towing well on this road of curves and slides,
And Tom is having to work too hard to help her as he drives.
“Oops,” said Tom, as we approached our destination,
“I forgot to put her in tow-haul mode. That explains her procrastination!”
We’re happy to see the ocean edging this home of winter flowers,
And fearing the need to back our coach into a site, we cower.
But Loretta and Roger welcome us to Driftwood RV Park,
And with their help, Tom backs our coach just like a pro would in the dark.
After setting up the Rig, we put on our hats and fetched our lonely cats.
Sadie is still living under the bed because she is still pissed,
I greet her with a friendly hello and in return I am hissed.
Harry wants a hug, some Sahne, and then OUT!
He is a happy cat who has no time to pout.
We took them to the Coach and let them explore all night long.
They purred and boiled and hummed their happy kitty-songs.
We do believe they missed us, we were gone for way too long.
Harry scratched at all of the windows and doors,
For he knows there’s a way out of here. Can he get outside under the floor?
After several nights of scratching and digging, Kay could not take it any more,
So the cats now sleep in their kitty-condo behind closed doors.
Now, Harry Houdini is a smart one, and escape he did twice,
Those doors need more latches to keep him in at night.
That harness must be tighter than that to keep him from running to safety,
Those wheels can hurt him he remembers, though they haven’t done so lately.
Out of the harness and across the creek, Harry Houdini did run,
I watched him ponder his dilemma as I sat in the mid-day sun.
You got yourself over there, now you have to find your way back.
He talked and talked and let me know, he was thinking about that.
One mossy rock provided a grip and then some courage he did find,
He jumped back across the creek and hid under the deck just fine.
The harness has been tightened and the leash follows him now,
Although he does not like these limits, he accepts them with a growl.
Sadie is taking kitty Prozac to keep her mood swings stable,
Perhaps we will soon be able to take away her “psycho kitty” label.
She’s boiling and drooling when I gently comb her fur,
And last night, she even allowed strange visitors to pet her.
So, all is well with the cats and humans who dwell in this small space.
We’re adapting and adjusting to this new home at our own pace.
And, we’re eager to get on the road to explore an exciting new place.
