Since today The Great State of Ohio dropped its oppressive and nonsensical WuFlu mandates, my daily Ubi Libertas Blog posts no longer will open with a count of the days to “flatten the curve.”
For every American who’s worth a damn, it was over long ago.
Now two days out from the disquieting experience of having a fire in our RV, Deb and I are returning to a sense of comfort and peace. We’re turning away from Monday’s what-ifs and back into the moment in front of us. It’s been a process.
Our mobile RV tech will be here tomorrow morning. Barring the discovery of hidden damage, he’ll have all of the parts necessary to repair the fridge and get it running safely. I expect he’ll be at it most of the day — partly because there’s a lot of work to be done, and partly because he’ll be babysitting the unit as it comes to life and chills.
While he’s monitoring the fridge, he and his helper will have another job to do for us.
Our galley is outfitted for cooking with a gas range and a combination microwave and convection oven. The latter, the original Sharp model, stopped working shortly after we acquired Ernie — it runs exactly 59 seconds and pauses, requiring another button-push to resume.
A four-minute meal, for example, demands constant attention and five stabs of the start button. It sucks all the convenience out of it.
Quite literally with nothing better to do today, we looked high and low for a replacement. After making lots of calls, persistent Internet sleuthing and visiting several stores, Deb found what we were looking for — on the north side of Branson, Missouri.
We drove up to fetch it, brought it back here and it’ll be installed tomorrow. That won’t be a complicated job, but the awkward task of lifting an over-the-range microwave into place is best done by a pair of younger backs.
With a better idea of what the next couple of days will bring, today we were able to make some plans — which also meant canceling plans and changing plans. We’ve extended our stay at this campground through Sunday night, six days longer than we’d originally reserved. Two Harvest Hosts stays got nixed. Plans to get together with friends in Texas were pushed back a week.
We’ll be keeping that rented Colorado until we leave here Monday morning.
Without a working fridge in the bus, we’ve been dining out and ordering in. That gives us a chance to sample local fare, which we prefer to chain restaurants. The most recent payoff for me, at a nearby bakery and café, was enjoying a slice of pecan pie made the way it’s supposed to be made.
I haven’t had real, honest-to-sugar-shock pecan pie in maybe 40 years. It verged on a religious experience.
Anyway, we’re dealing and moving forward. Things are moving around us and with us.
There are no guarantees, of course. Tomorrow, I expect, will tell the tale.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.