mmmm soggy

i have rarely (if ever) heard rain so hard and consistent in its pelting windblown nature as i did alllll last night and this morning. the sound was so loud that it woke me multiple times and sent me checking for leaks...and luckily each search was unfruitful. holy moly what a rain!

the irony...is that this is what i wrote in my journal yesterday afternoon after a day of walking around and running errands in the wet droplets...

'Drops make ripples which cascade into each other only to yield to a new drop. Tis the rain's disco dance upon the puddle that adorns the crack where the sidewalk meets the street. The street that humans made to protect us from the earth. Why are people so afraid of the world? Why do we hide inside of structures when it rains instead of under the heavy boughs of trees? Perhaps it is because we've cut down most of the trees that would be big enough to afford us this priviledge, this protection; like a mother covering her child's ears when speaking a truth he is not ready for just yet. And why do we drown out the sound of healthy rain with man-made sounds, as if our cacophony could somehow be more joyous and full of life than the rain upon the earth, in puddles, atop our roofs and jacket hoods and umbrellas if the wind allows it. Why do we not dance to the sound of the rain, with its changing rhythms and tones? Perhaps some of us do. Those who seek the earth, crave the feel of dirt underfoot and beneath toes, the warmth of sunlight unfiltered by cityscapes and low-lying haze...the silence of the woods, the echo of bird's song with no world-hum... (insert telephone call from Mark and a random comment concerning the rain's other components)
...And no, Mark, I don't think it's acid rain ;) '

go figure, that only hours later, it was I....I who was checking to make sure my little motorbus was keeping the rain OUT...go figure

but i'll tell ya, the reason we hide from the rain, is cuz it's really flippin' wet!
...and i'm still working on my dorsal fins ;)

Spring, I think it's spring!

The battery is shot and the bus won't start.
...but i was gifted jumper cables by Scoot via Snapper so it's all good.
My garage is gone with the wind as are my super subletters
...but my smurfcycle cruiser is nicely locked to the back of the bus in a careening-out-of-control manner bound to look hilarious lest i forget it's there once i jump the bus and drive away.
And it's been below freezing only one morning i can remember over the past week
...and above freezing all the other days, warm enough that i've packed up my sleeping bag and am getting away with only 3 blankets!
And it's still dark when i get home
...but dusk is still in the sky and my mancala board turned tea light holder makes for the most fantastically effective lighting by which to read, write, and play banagrams while drinking after-sushi beers with kristi ;)
And in 2 weeks i'll be living hi class and house sitting at my folks as they travel to italy! twill be a vacation for both of us, though i gotta say,
te amo mi ballena

i love my whale ;)

to spring, warmer weather, and long sunlight creepin in through the windshield~

Numero dos

Second neon green "we're gonna tow your big blubbery whale bus sticker STAT" sticker duelly noted. Thank you kristi for the clever spotting of the aforementioned overly stick-i-fied notation. And back to the parking lot, sweet sweet blissfully paved non-city-towable parking lot.

wonder if this is a three strikes you're out....or ...third time's a charm kinda situation...

something to ponder ;)

Two WTF moments in Two Days

just for the record,

if you see a motorbus parked somewhere at night, there might be a person sleeping inside of it

and if you happen to jump up on the back rack and try to get a peak through the drawn curtains at the inside of the bus, you might freak out a sleeping kitty and her human companion

...who might mistake the sudden awakening and momentary loss in stability of sleeping surface for something more dramatic than late night peeping toms (i have cinco dinero for anyone who can tell me where that phrase began)

and if you people (who are from louisiana so your license plate says) who must get a look inside late at night ever play the earthquake game again while i am sleeping, i may be forced to pry myself out of my warm sleeping bag and speak harsh words in your general direction and sick my attack cat upon you by the light of ever glowing (if sometimes slightly obscured) moon!

just sayin'....


and just for the record,

when you wake up in a bus during a heavy rain and the sound of one rain drop falling seems louder and more rhythmic than the others, that's because it is.

that's because once that raindrop finds a way INSIDE your bus, the sound waves it creates are completely unmuffled by a rooftop surface and even perhaps amplified by the fact that it is falling within a very small enclosed space!

and sleep and dreams are made more interesting by the fact that this creative raindrop has managed to sneak its way into your domain through an electrical outlet in the ceiling

... it's like i'm living in a hairdryer in the bathtub scenario getting ready to play out its final scene in a so bad it's good alfred hitchcock creation

previously i stated that my bus is a sitcom, but perhaps it will become something more akin to a made for TV movie

perhaps then i'll have to get a TV so i can see about my life...and watch the Amazing Race show so that Tony and i can win it one day ;)

Inside acoustics

Pitter patter pitter patter.
Drip drop drip drop.
I cannot imagine or fabricate a sound any better to come home to, to cuddle up with.
Turn the radio off;
the rain plays on.

From some night a few weeks ago

Ode to a haiku

Cuddled up cozy
Kitty wants outside to play
I say no to this

For now, it is late
Sleep and dreams are for having
Like wine on Friday

Only it's Thursday
Pounding echoes soft rain drops
The roof holds solid

Nick drake drones softly
To a background of street hum
And dim bus lighting

February chill
Ain't so cold compared to march
When we save daylight

Nothing beats sweaters
Made of wool and magic love
Except for ice cream

Scooped on beach boardwalks
Each drip saved from the pavement
Toes drawn towards sand

And water, at first
It's cold, like our cone fillings
With its own flavor

Here it showers roofs
And feet unclad from the wet
Less intentional

First flowers are up
Mistaken by brief sun breaks
But still I like them

Like the idea
Of bus living in summer
Can't come soon enough

For windows open
Chillin by moby dick's tale
And beers on the porch

My bus is a sitcom

And so it continues, the saga that is my 'house'
so it finally got into its appointment at the shop to possibly, probably, knock-on-wood-hopefully repair the gas tank by whatever means appropriate...this was tuesday morning...
and after all this time of 'oh so intentionally' NOT driving the bus, the shop informs me that i MUST empty the holding tank before they can work on it.
one side of my brain is thinking, damn waste of time i've spent not emptying it in order to preserve what has been newly cleaned and fixed...
the other side of me is thinking, fuck i'm sorry guys, that IS shitty...so to speak...oy!
So Tuesday night, very luckily aided oh so kindly by my grand pal Snapper (no, names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent...and not that that would apply anyhow;)
...we picked up the bus on SE Foster and headed along 82nd, along 84 East, and then merged onto the sea of brake lights that was clearly I-5...holy shitballs batman! it was pre-holiday, post-rush hour ridiculous traffic. my favorite. said the girl who doesn't even drive a normal sized vehicle on side streets.

were it not for snapper as co-pilot, my ridiculously dramatic sighs and wheel gripping wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining...

Luckily i had checked for a closer location to empty my home (as previously i have been driving to WA exit 11 just north of vancouver...go free rest area!) so we pulled off I-5 waaaaay sooner than usual at the jantzen beach exit after many passenger assisted lane changes (at approximately 3 miles an hour) thinking, sweeeet, no more of that interstate bullshit, we'll be there in a heartbeat and back into town in no time.

So finding the Rv park only took turning around once or twice and stopping at one convenience mart for directions. not bad ;)

once there, go figure, office closed. huh, no marking of dump site on the map of this lovely large trailer park. curious. can't be so hard to find....she said naively...

after touring the park quite inconspicuously and meticulously, seeing lots of double wides with christmas lights, and finding each unmarked dead end...nada...nothing. so much for this being the closer, easier, less time consuming option i'm thinking, to myself and out loud.

Back toward the entrance (which was also not easy to find as the trailer park is set up akin to Walmart or Ikea where you have to pass everything to quite inefficiently get from point A to point B, basically the antithesis to how the crow flies), we decide to consult with other RV owners as they must surely know where this secret dump station exists.

Snapper bravely knocks on a few RV doors, but alas, none are home to answer questions for weary 'travellers!'

We decided to scavenge (or actually re-scavenge, as i have already done this upon our entrance) each site for personalized dumping...so to speak. Snapper, saving the day once again, spots an RV's dump tube set up and we investigate the scene, reverse the whale and pull into a site (incognito style) and prepare to dump!

So the sites were hidden near a pole in most, but not all sites, partially buried beneath beauty bark (not a bad idea really); i hook it all up, pull the plug, and that lovely WHOOOOSHH sound fills my ears as the waft of ...well, you know...overcomes the smell of beauty bark if only for a moment...

SUCCESS!!!!!!

it was additionally lovely to know that the entire black/gray water tank/pipes/system had not been damaged (atleast to any extent apparent to m e at this time) during the deeeep freeeze that solidified anything and everything in my bus that had any inkling toward water content.

i swear a big grin crossed my face at this time that felt quite sheepish ;)

next, as is customary, i look for a hose with which to clean everything out and off with...no hose in sight, but there is a small spicket just nearby.
I begin to slowly turn it on...nothing...i wait. i can hear it trying. i slowly turn it up and a small trickle begins to crawl from the mouth of the ground level spicket, i turn it up more, more, still a trickle, growing maybe to a steady stream of a few ounces per minute...i crank it more, more, still hoping....
Then i bend down to look and see if anything is blocking it...no just kidding, I didn't do that; that would just be downright cartoonish...
but eventually the water did break through whatever blockage was occurring and explosively covered my shoes and pants with lovely agua...which i then used to clean out the piping, at this point completely carefree about the fact that my feet were wet and my fingers numb. i mean at this stage, it was all comedy, no holds barred!!!

so, with our mission complete, we headed out of the park, a new unintentionally FREE dump site discovered (probably only after 5pm when the office is closed and the park is dark), though at this point it felt like we earned it!

so back we drove, lightning quick it seemed at 45 mph in non-crazy traffic; reparked the bus at Mac's Radiator, and headed into town to the Slammer, to fulfill our Tuesday evening tradition at long last...better late than never.

Besides, at this point, i think i owed Snapper a drink, and needed one myself!
Cheers to whalin' adventures and another step in what is hopefully the right direction ;)