Captain’s Log Detailing

Trevor and I were talking last week about our rigs and the abundance of life, as evidenced by the plethora of "things" taking up space inside each of our vehicles. We really meant that they are both complete pig styes, and we needed to adult up and take half a minute to clean them out. 

Like mother like son.

We were laughing about the strange things we accumulate and how we're littering potentially useful space — I mean, can anyone explain why the dog carrier is still in there months after I rescued Larry the Rooster from a gal in South Reno whose neighbors were aimed on souping him? My favorite sneakers live under the passenger seat, with a pair of heels (in case I have to cover a meeting), and always there are flip-flops. Because you know — pedicures. 

Trev's big rig hosts more rugged outdoor wear than mine. They do live within a stone's throw of the Arctic. He could successfully ice fish if the need arose and, of course, entertain a seven-year-old and maintain Chopper, the griffon-faced hunting dog who won't point or retrieve. It sounded like, as they aim for warmer weather, there was also enough equipment to build a garden complete with raised beds and a drip system, as well as provide entertainment for the child's eighth birthday party with everything just short of the clowns. 

A long time ago, when I was writing for Short Anne at The Fallon Star Press, one of my most entertaining "Losing it…" columns explained extensively the conditions of my minivan and how, surely, if stranded on a desert island I, along with my three children, could easily survive for three months living out of the van down by the river. There were plenty of potential snacks, water abounded in the discarded water bottles strewn here and there, and the amount of clothing and shoes would surely suffice both covering bodies but also provide ample bedding and, if needed, could probably also frame a lean-to. 

You know it's time when it all begins to take on a smell — maybe you left a pan or a dish in there after the church potluck, and the entire cab wafts of stale chocolate cake each time you open the door. 

Luckily a quick trip to Reno this weekend with a friend included an hour-long wait while said friend took the only available massage appointment. There was a fancy car wash right down the street and I took the opportunity to wait in the sun while the magicians had their way with both the inside AND the outside of my truck. Helen has never looked so good. (Helen is my truck - for the actress in my favorite Bruce Willis movie). 

Trev will have to wait for the July thaw in North Dakota before his gets a bath. LOL.

So while I enjoy the smell of coconut air freshener baked in the early spring sun, we'll be right here…

…Keeping you Posted.

Rach.