Somewhat the same, but so different

We just crossed over from Maine to New Brunswick Canada and although so many things are similar, there are a few differences that have already arisen. We learned about much of this in school, but since we never had to use the knowledge in the States, I feel like I'm an old fogey just trying to get by.

For starters, there’s funny money.  Because we’ve crossed in to Canada many times since our Honeymoon in Nova Scotia nearly 12 years ago, we’ve acquired some Canadian currency.  Canadians use dollar coins called “loonies” because of the image of a Loon on them.  They also have “twoonies” which are two dollar coins, made with 2 different metals so you easily see the difference.  Paper bills are different colors which makes finding them a bit easier as you look thru your wallet and see blues, green and reds.  Their smaller coins are very similar in appearance to American currency, but I’m making sure I use up all my pennies as they will be phased out later this year.

Currently the currency exchange rate is almost 1 to 1, so we’re not gaining or losing when we go to the bank.

Next on the differences is temperatures.  Thanks to a high school teacher who loved to give his students various trivia facts, I know a quick way to get a close approximation of Celsius to Fahrenheit.  And even easier than that method, I realized the other day that every 5 degrees Celsius is approx 10 Fahrenheit, at least for those temps between 40 and 90 F which is the standard weather range we’ll be experiencing as we travel.

The other major difference for us is the rest of the Metric System.  Highway speeds and distances are in meters, not miles, and weights are grams and liters vs pounds and ounces.  Our pickup truck has both Miles and Kilometers displayed on the speedometer, but the numbers for the metric numbers are very small and hard to read.  Fortunately we are able to have a digital display show us our speed in KM so that hurdle is crossed. 

Buying fuel will be interesting. In Canada you buy your fuel by the Liter and it’s approximately 4 liters to an American Gallon of fuel.  So while the initial image of lower fuel prices are in you mind, the quick recalculation of the price on the marquee to a conversion of American shows that it’s pricier in Canada compared to U.S. costs (based on New England prices).

Today we went to a supermarket and I was stumped at the meat display as to how much I was buying.  I couldn’t convert grams to ounces quickly.  I’ll need to carry a quick conversion sheet on future shopping trips to make sure I get enough but not too much.

You're Ticking Me Off, Quit Bugging Me

All Spring, we’ve heard predictions that ticks and bugs would be more prominent this year as the winter was so mild along the East Coast.  

Being dog owners, I’ve always been on the look out for ticks and would use a topical product on them approximately 9 months out of the year.  Two years ago, I started applying this product on the dogs every month.  I use to skip the winter months as fleas and ticks were not a problem for us in Maine during the winter.  With our travels to mid-Atlantic States throughout the year, I decided to include treating the dogs during the winter months as a precaution.

Just in the past month I’ve personally seen the increase in ticks.  Fortunately, those on the dog have not been alive.  Twice I’ve found dead ticks on the hairs of one of my pets, and have removed 3 live ones from myself and 1 off my husband.  Two were still crawling around when we found them, but we each had one attached.  I’m optimistically hopeful that the ticks that did start to attach did not carry Lyme Disease and that we removed them before they could do damage to us.

And to add to this insect drama, we’ve returned to the woods on Northern New England and are constantly swatting at biting / stinging critters.  Most evenings we’ll spray ourselves with a bug repellant, but there’s still the bothersome mosquito or noseeum that gets you.  The other day, something stung me in the corner of my eyelid. Not fun, my lid was swollen for most of the day and my vision wasn't the greatest.  Good thing we didn't travel that day.

L.L. Bean

Happy 100th Birthday L.L. Bean store.  My experience with you hasn’t been that long, but boy you sure make an impact in my life.

Just over a year ago, my husband and I decided to retire from our jobs, and to downsize and travel the country, living in our RV.  We put our home on the market, listed most of our household belongings via the internet and started sorting those things we had to take and what we’d get rid of. Several charities received some of our items - several of my L.L. Bears were donated to a Boy Scout troup that was collecting teddy bears for the Barbara Bush Children's Hospital. 

Prior to selling our home, we lived fairly close to the L.L. Bean Flagship Store in Freeport and frequently shopped there or the outlets.  When traveling the East Coast to visit friends and family, I’d always find a way to visit whichever L.L. Bean store was closest to our destination.

As we’ve traveled I’m often amazed at what items we kept and how many came from L.L. Bean. I’d estimate 75 - 80% of items came from L.L. Bean. 

We don’t know where are travels will take us or what the weather will be; we kept winter coats and boots which came in handy during a snowstorm last October.  We have several raincoats and rain pants, along with storm chaser boots which proved useful during several rainy spells.  We have Buzz-Off and Insect-shield clothes, well needed products at many campgrounds.  Our general attire are L.L. Bean jeans or chinos, polo shirts with fleece or flannel jackets.  PJ’s, slippers, robes, bathing suits, silk underwear, socks, hats, gloves; the list goes on and on.

Even the linens in our bedroom and bath: flannel sheets, down comforter, flannel blankets, thick bath towels, you guessed it, all came from L.L. Bean.  In the kitchen, our percolator and travel coffee mugs have the L.L. Bean logo on them.  We have several wind up radios and flashlights sold by L.L. Bean. Our cribbage board is from L.L. Bean.

Our BBQ grill is the O-Grill carried by L.L. Bean.  Marshmallow/hot dog campfire forks, yep, they’re from L.L. Bean too.  The folding chairs we use near the campfire? And don’t forget the 2 kayaks on the roof of our pickup truck or the 2 bicycles on the back of our rig. We even have an L.L. Bean weather sensor for indoor/outdoor temps.

And it’s not just the humans in our household who are in to L.L. Bean products.  Our two dogs have dog beds, leashes, doggie rain coats, dog toys, training collars, and a crate. We bought a tote bag just to carry their items.  

And speaking of tote bags, we’ve got several different sized L.L. Bean tote bags from the largest for laundry to the smallest for a purse. We also kept some L.L. Bean luggage.

Wonder what my home would look like if I didn't have all these L.L. Bean products.

Dad

Two months ago my father died. He was 80 years old. For 30 odd years he had lived with an Adult Onset form of Muscular Dystrophy which destroyed the muscles in his body, leaving him a quadriplegic for the last 10. It was very hard watching a once extremely active and physical man become a physically challenged person. It was also hard to watch my mother's health deteroriate as she continued
to administer love and care to her husband. Mom really stood by her marriage vows of in sickness and in health.

A few years ago, we kids received word that Dad was in the hospital and the prognosis was not good. Those of us that could drop things and come were urged to do so. I was the first to arrive at that time and was included in a discussion about Hospice with one of the doctors. My folks set up a formal meeting with a Hospice representative and all my siblings were able to attend that session. At the time, my Dad, and we as a family, decided Hospice was not the choice for him. But it gave us all the sense that his time was running short. As he had so many time before, Dad got over his respiratory ailment and was sent home where Mom continued to provide care.

This February, Dad got pneumonia and was hospitalized again. Once again, the call to all of us to come as it looked ominous was made. This time, however, I was not a 2 hour drive. I was now 1500 miles away, and flew back. We were optimistic with how Dad looked and behaved but in the back of my mind was, this really could be it. The next morning, the hospital called my Mom to say Dad had indeed taken a turn for much worse and that it we should come in soon if we wanted to be with him.

Dad never did awaken that day. All my siblings did arrive to be at his bedside that morning and around noon, after several discussions with doctors and reviews of his lab work, honored Dad's decision to not prolong his life with any heroics. A few hours later Dad passed from this life to the next, unknown to us, but believed to be wonderful by his Christian faith and upbringing.

A few weeks after Dad died, we held a memorial service for him. While the service was very nice, for me the moving event of the day was before the service. Those of us who were participating in the service went to rehearse, my siblings and I were doing scripture readings, while 3 of the grandchildren were providing special music. When my niece sat at the piano to run through her peace, I was moving about the sanctuary, trying to decide on a location for my video camera - oh how I wish I had it on. The notes from the piano started and my brain clicked in. Wait, what's that she's playing? That doesn't sound like a restful, classical piece, that sounds like the Theme from James Bond. Oh my gosh, is she going to play this during the service - that would be weird but so appropriate. (My father, and several family members, myself included, are James Bond fans), Sure enough, my brother had prompted his daughter to play that particular piece at that moment in tribute to Dad. Even now, 6 weeks after the service, what chocks me up the most from that day is that simple music line - da da da da dat da da,

What a wonderful way to remember Dad.

Old Stomping Grounds

Because we have been staying relatively close to our old stomping grounds and would be passing thru our former town, we decided to take advantage of some of the services we use to use. We scheduled a grooming for the dogs with Sandy and a vet visit on the following day.

Our travels brought us back to Maine before "tourist season". No campgrounds are open in the areas we'd be staying giving us plenty of opportunity to boondock.

Two nights were spent in Cabela's parking lot. There was a super Walmart a mile away, but most RVers know this Cabela's has a dump station - a greatly appreciated feature for those living on the road.

We're now heading to our next destination. Our overnight options include the local Walmart and a Lowe's. Depending on how long we stay there we may be stopping by Cabela's on our way south.

View from my side of the mountain

Last Summer, we stayed in Trenton Maine, with Mount Dessert Island and Acadia National Park just across a bridge. Every day when I got up I’d look towards Cadillac Mountain, the highest peak on the island and kept feeling something wasn’t quite right.

Looking across Frenchmens Bay, the waterway that wrapped around MDI, the views of Cadillac Mountain felt very comforting and I reveled in the view and scenery. But something seemed amiss.

It took me awhile to realize that the mountain was not in the direction I expected it to be, that is, it was to my south when I kept wanting it to be to my north. In my mind, the sun rose and set on the wrong sides. In Trenton, the sun moved across the sky from left to right.

This winter, while recently visiting family, we drove in to town and I had my epiphany to the mountain dilemma. As we drove in to town, numerous views of Mount Wachusett kept appearing ahead of us. About a mile from home, we’d cross a causeway of the Wachusett Reservoir and my mental image of Cadillac quickly flashed through my mind. Growing up, my hometown was just to the south of that mountain and I spent

most of my life seeing a prominent mountain towards the north.

I decided no matter which side of the mountain I’m on, the view is comforting.

Hardest part (so far)

For me the hardest part of RV living full-time and traveling about is finding good hair stylist. Last summer I took a chance on the hair salon in a large department chain and received an ok haircut. Two months later I returned and had a different person do my hair, the results were ok, but I wasn't thrill.

Three months later, and in a whole new area, I decided to try the same department chain's salon in the community I'm now near. The person doing my hair claimed they'd been doing hair for 2 years and I thought, hmm, my style is simple, they can't screw it up. WRONG!!!! How one can botch a long layer bob which is tapered in the front is beyond me. I phoned the next morning to express my displeasure and was thrilled (not) to have to speak with the person who had botched things. They felt they did their best and said I should come in for their manager to fix the cut (that would be 2 more days as it's now the manager's days off).

Instead I went to a whole different salon, explaining what happened and was treated like royalty. The stylist at the new salon treated me so nicely and did a spectacular job on fixing the mess without losing any more length in the process.

So what have I learned? Well, I can either let my hair grow out and never get it cut again, I could go for a shaved head and not worry about hair dressers, or I can make sure I don't let them do a botch job again. I'd do that by keeping the overall length longer until I see how they do the cut. If it's being handled right, I can quickly ask for an extra 1/2 inch of length to be removed. If it's not going well, I'm going to stop their work and demand a more experienced person.

Oh, and I'll invest in some more hats.