July 17 Syracuse

The car we are pulling is a 1999 Saturn, chosen because it is one of the few cars to earn “tows well with others” in kindergarten. This morning John ran out for coffee – we haven’t bought a coffee maker yet – at the local Dunkin’ Donuts, and noticed its check- engine light was on.

The insurance estimator dropped by to assess the damage to the RV, and he recommended a local repair shop for the Saturn. $1,102 later, we have two new oxygen sensors, a minor transmission overhaul and four new tires. Who knew cars needed oxygen? I thought only humans needed oxygen. And we don’t even have sensors. We just inhale and there it is. Apparently cars are more complex than us mere mortals. I have to admit, it did ride better on new tires, and it didn’t cough once on the way back to our camping spot.

We’re on the grounds of the headquarters of the New York State Amateur Trap Association in Cicero, NY. It’s grassy and treeless as far as the eye can see. At the far end of the range, several backhoes are scooping up great mounds of dirt, which will be sifted for shot and sold to battery companies who will convert it back into lead. Why they want this is a mystery to me, but I’m glad they’re recycling anyway.

After the adjuster left, we went to the Carousel Mall for some needed supplies, including a new pair of sunglasses, ate in the food court and immediately felt queasy. It was a get-things-done day, and I am longing for a run-in with Mother Nature instead of Quiznos and Sunglass Hut, but we will be out of here in the morning and headed for the Thousand Islands.

That’s not to say I didn’t encounter a little nature today. I walked the dog in the morning and nearly tripped over the carcass of a ten-foot snake of indeterminate type. Okay, maybe it was three feet and not ten, but I do not like snakes even if they’ve been dead for a week.

We bought a couple of big steaks and a new grill today, as well as six huge tomatoes – the heck with salmonella; summer tomatoes are not to be missed. I had planned an alfresco dinner complete with wine and the good dishes, but John took a curb today and all the dishes fell out of the cabinet, so we’re going out for Italian instead.

You kind of have to ease into this camping thing.

John, who has not stopped tinkering, just asked me to get him an Allen wrench. “What does it look like?” I asked. “Like an L,” he said. “So why don’t they call it an Ellen wrench?” I quipped. Fresh air and sunshine can make you incredibly witty.

Betty