Remember when I said I would tell you about the things that happened during our trip that weren’t funny at the time, but we laughed about, later? I think I should tell you about today because I need you to validate that it might be kind of funny…later.

I will admit that I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer. Maybe the elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top. It could also be possible that I’m not dealing with a full deck. Everyone makes mistakes, but it is kind of nice to be blissfully ignorant of most of them. Today threw me.

We’ve had a wonderful trip. We have been having so much fun, that I have gotten behind in my travel posts. Thanks to Cousin Val/Baba/Lav, who is quickly growing a following, I can catch up as I have time. We have done a lot of things I haven’t told you about, yet.

We began today in Monroe, Louisiana and we ended the day about 90 miles down the road.

We were out of some necessities, so we stopped by the closest Walmart. The drill is that Kip stays with the dogs while I shop. I took an extra long time because Kip needed some things in the RV section and I couldn’t find the RV section. There weren’t too many people around to help. By the time I found what I needed, and had made my purchases, it was almost 11:00 o’clock which is kind of a late start even by our standards.

Kip helped me unload the groceries from the cart and began to put them away while I took the cart to the cart drop-off place. I’m not one of those who leaves a cart in the middle of the parking lot. I’ve had my car scratched up more than once by a wayward cart.

We finally got back on the road and had been traveling about an hour and a half, when I realized I had forgotten something at the store. When I told Kip I thought I had forgotten something, he said not to worry about it because we would be home in a couple of days and would have to make another run to the store, anyway. I hadn’t started to panic, yet. I was sure I had brought the item from the store, but after a quick perusal, I determined that I had indeed left without it.

“OH NO,” I yelled. “I left my purse in the shopping cart!”

Kip sighed a big loud sigh and said, “We will stop at this little town a couple of miles up the road and I will help you look for it. You wouldn’t leave your purse in a shopping cart.”

Fifteen minutes later, he became a believer. He decided we would find an RV park, get a spot, unhook the Jeep, and drive the hour and a half back to Walmart. I immediately got on the phone and called the store. After several rings, I heard, “Thank you for calling Walmart. We are very anxious to serve you. Please press 1 for the pharmacy, press 2 for the deli, press 3 for electronics, press 4 for automotive, and press 0 if you need to talk to an associate.”

I pressed 0 and after several rings an associate answered and promptly transferred me to customer service, who never answered. I called the associate back 3 times, no answer. I pressed 1 and got someone in the pharmacy who said, in not so many words, “Not my problem, lady.” I said, “Would you be a nice person and grab someone who can tell the people in customer service that you have a very desperate person on the phone, and she has been trying to reach them for 45 minutes?”

The nice lady at the pharmacy said she couldn’t do that because she was in the pharmacy and the pharmacy doesn’t do that. Before I could say something more convincing, I heard the sound of my call being transferred. No one answered. I was getting close to calling the gas station, nearby, to ask them to go to Walmart and find me some help. Instead, I called the store one more time, even though I could hardly stand to hear the recording tell me for the 10th time that they were very anxious to serve me. An associate finally answered. I began by saying, “Please stay with me. Do not transfer me, because I have called everyone in that store and no one answers. I have already pressed 1, 2. 3, and 4. You are 0, right? I am in an RV 90 miles from you and I think I left my purse in a cart that is in the cart return place. I can’t tell you exactly which one. I need to know if someone was nice enough to bring it into the store and hand it over to someone.”

The nice associate said, “I remember talking to you a while ago. You’re looking for your purse, right? I transferred you to customer service and then I went on my break. I just got back. Lady just take a breath, and I will find out if anyone has your purse. Are you for sure that it was this Walmart? We have more than one Walmart in Monroe.”

“I called the Walmart that I left 90 miles ago. My husband has all of the information in his GPS. The phone number was in the same area that has the button he pushed that said, DIRECTIONS and then START!”

“Okay lady,” the nice associate said. “Take a couple of breaths while I go find out if someone has seen your purse… Oh, what does it look like?”

Kip had been on the phone trying to find an RV park. When he hung up, he asked me who I was talking to. I was busy taking deep breaths so I didn’t answer him. By that time the nice associate came back on the line and asked me if they did happen to have my purse, what would be in it that would identify me as the owner?

I won’t go any further with the blow by blow. They did have my purse, and I am very thankful to the person who found it. I am also very thankful that we weren’t 300 miles down the road before I discovered my purse was missing.

Kip has been biting his tongue, hard. I don’t think he enjoyed driving the same route 3 times. I also don’t think he’s even one bit grateful.

Why isn’t he laughing? 

I have been watching the World Serious this week. It’s the biggest baseball tournament in the World and it is serious.

These two teams try to score with one guy at a time, taking turns by hitting a small hard ball after a guy from the opposite team throws a ball at about 90 mph at the guy who is home (you’d think he would feel safe being at home. He is not ). The guy at home tries to defend himself with this wooden stick. Naturally he doesn’t want to get hit with a 90 mph hard ball. The guy with the stick gets a few chances.At least there are two other guys behind him, one crouched way down protected with a big mask and mattress in his mid section and another guy behind crouching guy called an Emperor. That guy kinda runs the entire game and yells out, “Ball” or sometimes, “Strike”. The Emperor is dressed in black and is also disguised with a mask and mini-mattress to protect himself. He yells a lot.

So the stick holder is out front with NO PROTECTION and two cowardly types stand or crouch down behind this poor fellow who only has a stick while a thrown hardball comes hurtling toward him. But sometimes the stick holder hits the ball away and naturally runs as fast as possible. Now it gets interesting. The police should be called and lawyers brought in but noooo—the guy running often tries to steal a base, often not even feeling remorse. And get this: there is actually a baseball diamond somewhere on the field and the players don’t try to steal that. They try to steal bases!Who the heck wants to steal a base?

I would much rather have a diamond. The other guys in the team even encourage this thievery yelling, “Run!” Or certain helpers whisper what a player should do next. They coach them on when and how to steal. I just do not believe the lack of common decency in this game. Stealing and trying to hit poor defenseless players. I can see why everyone at the stadium needs to stretch and sing after about seven parts or innings. “Take me out of the ball game” is what they all sing and can you blame them? I would want to get out of there, too.

Here’s the unvarnished truth about life on the road. Sometimes it’s hot and sometimes it’s cold.

Some days the sun shines and some days it rains. If the wind doesn’t blow, no one complains.

Each morning we rise and go walk the dogs. We love to build campfires, but have to buy logs.

We drive our big rig from Walmart to Walmart. We feel right at home and load up our cart.

We find places to eat without even looking. Anything is better than Mary’s cooking.

We raise our eyebrows at the high price of gas, but an electric bill is a thing of the past.

One of  our pleasures is now long gone. Its not possible to order from Amazon.

We don’t really have a permanent address and tomorrow’s location is anyone’s guess.

We don’t have grass that grows under our feet. We don’t have to mow or pile leaves in a heap.

We visit old friends and make new ones, too. They always make sure we have fun thing to do.

Rick Spahlinger and wife, Rita, helped make the day so special.

The highways and byways make us ooh and ahh. We can’t believe all the beauty we saw.

There is so much more to share on this venue. We’ll keep you posted as our adventures continue.

As I write what I can, I really must hurry. It’s time to move on and today we must flurry.

We’re hoping we can make it to Vicksburg, where a battle was fought. (Maybe you’ve heard.)

We can’t stay on the road for ever and ever, but we always say. Never say never!

Whatever we see. Where ever we roam, Texas (and Murdo) will always be home.

I’ll write about the funny things and the things that are funny now, but weren’t at the time, later…And we have so many more photos. I’m not keeping up very well, but that’s life on the road…