While Brian and Bill tended to the motorhome’s manifold, I went to some garage sales. In the town of Harrisburg, just a few miles from where we had the house parked, there was a neighborhood of 24 sales. Yippy, Skippy!
I probably went to about 15 of them before I completely ran out of energy. Almost all of them had a lot for sale and some of the prices were really good. I didn’t buy very much, but in the true spirit of bargaining, I offered less on all the things I wanted. None of the sellers turned me down. That’s what makes this “sport” so much fun. I did, however, miss my kids. They always make the “hunt for bargains” more fun.
The MH was repaired and we were at our new location by noon. On Monday, Shaun Davis will measure for the desk/table that he will build for us. There are RV hookups in back of his shop. Three other rigs are here to have work done this week.
This afternoon, Michelle sent a text message with pictures to all of us announcing their adoption of an eight week puppy...just a ball of fur. They have named him Max, and of course, he is adorable. He’s mostly Australian Shepherd, I think. That brings the number of “granddoggers” for Bill and me up to six. And don’t forget, we also have two “grandkitties.”
I have a footnote to add to yesterday’s blog about the Golden Retriever at the farm where we have been parked. Some of you may know that Willie, Brent’s dog who is now five years old, was a sock eater. Well, the dog at the farm ate rocks. Their driveway was covered with gravel and the dog chews on one piece at a time, swallows, and then eats another. Unlike Willie, with the socks that never came back out the way they had gone in, the farm dog barfs the the rocks up.
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