Into the Valley...

I guess it wasn't hot enough on the coast today - we made a trip into the Valley to do a little shopping.  And, it is amazing the difference in temperature and humidity between the coast (hot and humid) and the Valley (damn hot and crazy humid).

The plan was to get out reasonably early, before the hottest part of the day.  That plan worked out quite nicely.  We stopped for a leisurely lunch in Harlingen, then (as long as we're here) a quick stop at Bass Pro Shop.  No big deal - I needed a Croakie type strap for my sunglasses, and they have a good variety.

We were home by 2:00... plenty of time to get in a nap in air conditioned comfort.  Joan said, "Just one chore to get done: replace the doorbell."  That should be easy - two screws, undo two wires, wire up the new one, two screws to hold it in place - you're done.  It's never that easy.  The salt air had rusted the screws (I guess they weren't stainless steel).  It took some fussing, but I got them out.  Opening up the old doorbell, the screws that held the wires were rusted in place.  There is barely enough wire, so I didn't want to lose any wire length.  Too bad.

Joan said, "Be sure to check the wiring before you hook up the new one, so we know if the problem is the doorbell or the wiring."  I had to break the old doorbell to get it off.  I crossed the wires and the doorbell rang... "Wiring is fine!"  The new doorbell is slightly bigger than the old one; the mounting holes don't match up.  I came inside to get some Life Caulk to fill the old holes.  The Life Caulk was in the fridge (partially used tube)... it didn't take long for it to get pliable out in the heat.  Well, except for that solid "plug" at the top of the tube.  After fussing with it for about 20 minutes, I just poked a hole in the side of the tube to get the little bit out needed to fill the holes.  Wiring the new doorbell and mounting it was the easy part.

I had one thing I wanted to get done, but I wouldn't call it a chore: get my paddleboard pumped up.  When this heat breaks (and it is supposed to by next week), I'd like to get out and do some paddling.

"While you're in the storage getting your board, will you get something I need?"  Sure.  It turned out to be a poop scoop for Izzy private potty... and it was at the back, just out of reach.  I got it and drug my paddleboard bag into the house, where it is nice and cool.  "Don't believe that crap in the ads, with a small young girl carrying the backpack," I said.  "This thing weighs as much as a small horse."  Must be the heat; I was sweaty and exhausted carrying that backpack up the stairs into the house.

Joan moved a chair by our kitchen bar to give me room to set the board up... inside... in air conditioned comfort.  I remember pumping this thing up the last time... almost 6 months ago.  I remember being sweaty and exhausted getting it pumped up.  I remembered correctly.

If you want a good workout, don't bother with paddling one of these things - just go through the work of getting it pumped up.  11 psi doesn't sound like much... it is just enough to make your heart feel like it is going to explode.

Lucky for me, it is too hot and windy to splash this thing right now.  Did I mention: sweaty and exhausted? 

Oh, you're thinking, "Was Joan sitting around with her feet up, eating bon-bons... while you were getting sweaty and exhausted?"

Not at all.  She got out her sewing machine; hemmed some pants for me and made Izzy a new harness.  Clever woman - Izzy's latest harness came with a matching leash.  The leash is actually softer and more flexible material than the harness; using that material should be more comfortable for Iz. 

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On the RV shopping front, we heard from the RV salesman today... not about what we asked about, but about a unit they just took in trade: "It's absolutely like new!  We sold it originally and the people decided they want something bigger.  It isn't going to last long..."

"And, about the new unit we talked about yesterday?"

"Yeah, I... um... haven't heard from the manufacturer yet."

The only thing missing was: "Yeah, that's the ticket!"

;-)