Sunday, July 01, 2007
Morning folks. I think I've figured out how I'm able to get on here given the hit and miss signal. For one thing, I keep the windows ( pages) I want to use open, and the other is I don't shut the laptop off, nor put it in hibernation. I watch the light that blinks when the connection is lost, and when it stays lit I jump on it. It's far from ideal, but a little resourcefulness is necessary. Even with this I'm still losing posts, pics, etc., but it's better than having to start from scratch each time.
The cooling off here, 30 plus degrees, has been a blessing in so many ways. For one thing you can get out and around without sweating like a plowhorse, and for me at least, you can sleep. Between trips to the boudoir yesterday I slept a total of 11 hours. Unheard of for me, but I guess my ol' bod needed it. I'd sleep a couple of hours, come out and eat something, then crawl back in. As Dave says, it's rough up here.
Now for the name "Guggieville". Back when the Gold Rush was in full swing, mining claims were being bought, sold, lost in poker games, etc. The land this RV park sits on today is just a small part of the claims along Bonanza Creek that the Guggenheim family bought. While they certainly made money mining, their big money came from building the dredges and other equipment at this very spot. Their operation became so big that it became a village unto itself.
I've located an old picture of the operation, but it's behind glass in a frame. I'm going to work on the person that has it and see if she'll remove it so that I can get a picture to post. All I'm getting now are reflections. Hmm...wonder if a life-time membership into the Haremettes will work? Stay tuned.
Now for the whine du jour. When I first met the fellow that I was supposed to go the gold dredge with at the other RV park, it was early morning and I had a jacket on. When he asked me, rather cockily, what I was doing with Detroit Diesel and Roger Penske insignias on my jacket, he touched the right button. Excuse me? I'll damn tell you why, and I proceeded to make a believer out of him. Score one for the Big Guy!
I finally settled down and listened to him tell me about all the trucking he's done, the big boat at the Nanaimo Yacht Club, the airplane, etc. etc. I couldn't help but notice though that he and his wife, who was about the size of a small warehouse, were travelling in a 22' travel trailer being pulled by an ol' beater Mazda pickup, which was about the size of some of the lunch pails I've had over the years.
I also noticed that every time she would arch one of her arboreal eyebrows, he would almost cower under the table. That was all I needed to have a little fun. I told a couple of slightly off-color jokes to test their reactions. He almost stroked out suppressing a smile, and she handled it by stuffing bon-bons into her gaping maw with both hands. Score two for the Big Guy!
He had told me that his wife had no interest in seeing the dredge, but it seems that when she learned that we were going, all of a sudden she wanted just him and her to go. I found this out when he came over to apologize for standing me up. He was standing on the mat outside my door starting to take his shoes off when he told me. Stop! Leave your shoes on, grow a set, and beat it. Game, Set, and Match!
Living by oneself is not for everyone, but in so many situations I've seen, such as this one, it's hard to argue against it. Sharing is one thing, being dominated is quite another.
So there you have it, a little tech (?) stuff, a little history, and a little nastiness. Don't chastise me for the latter, it pi**ed me off so much that I just had to vent.
Trucker Bob blogged at 1:05 AM