Oy vey - some kinda help....

           

If you don’t have a UFB 50 year old child like I do, you might not know the Free to Be alblum – my daughter’s (& my) fave vinyl that she etched deep groves into – that has the song on it that says “some kind of help is the kind of help that helping’s all about; and some kinda help is the kind of help we all can do without”, which sadly, is what happened this morning!

            It was not that big of a deal but it just seems like after spending three days of veggie oil tsores, every day there’s another new issue to deal with and if I was superstitious or ‘new age’ with a tendency to blame predestination or of the ‘everything happens for a fuckin reason’ bent and not just the ‘normal’ life’s challenges when you make certain decisions like to run on veggie oil no matter what!

            So the last thing I do before I leave town is to fill up my water tanks. I’ve completed every other task I have on my list so I engage a neighbor to help with the replenishing the water in my tanks – a task I could handle myself but it’s so much easier if I have someone stationed at the faucet who can turn off the water when I sound the alarm.

            I’ve two tanks: one inside the back storage space and one inside the camper. I attach the hose to fill the large tank in the back of my truck. All’s going well until I shout from my position deep inside the back, hanging over the opening of the tank, to turn off the faucet. I reach down to close the lid when the water pressure spouts water all over the back.

            I shout again to turn off the faucet and my neighbor claims it is off. But it is not off. At least she has the wherewithal to jump down onto the driveway and disconnect the hose from the truck, making it possible for me to now close the lid.

            I show her again how to turn off the faucet…which the second time around she is able to do.

            And at last, I’m ready to hit the road!