Two little boys throw a baseball into gloves that are far too big for them outside of the Springdale, The Hi-Lo’s owner came in during the nite and put their unit up.  Behind me, birds tweet up in oak trees that have weathered a few hurricanes this close to the gulf. Under a cloudless morning sky, campers are emerging slowly from their laminated homes and readying themselves for another day.

We finally made it over from Florida yesterday. Residents of Jackson, I have good news for you! WE Jaksonians are NOT the only ones with demented city planners when it comes to road planning.  The drunken looped bypass around Jackson has met it’s match with Pensacola, Florida. We just going to “follow 98” all the way from Destin to Foley, Alabama. Once we finally got out of the barage of Accuras and Escalades and upper eschilon cars/suvs in Destin we did pretty good until Pensacola.

Entering Pensacola, there are NO SIGNS>>>>NO SIGNS of upcoming splits. Long story short, we got lost and there we were in a neighborhood where even with our sun burnt bodies, we were the palest people on the block. Not only were we pale but we were towing a 31 foot camper thru their neighborhood. Although this trailer does have some sexy rims, they don’t have spinners. We stood out. Finally, I found a spot that I could turn around in one of the 5800 pawn shops along that stretch, and asked for directions. Those guys were very helpful and understanding. While in there, i was tempted to bargain for a GPS, but then that’d take away from all the fun..right? I did see good deals on generators and watches. Some fellow wrapped his new wares in a brown paper bag and smiles and waved as he left. Another local was checking out the yellow Honda outside. I have never pawned anything, so it was an experience for me to just be in there. Nice people.

Finished our trip over pretty good tho. The kids roasted each other for quite a ways. “Your so stupid that…OH REALLY? We’ll you more stupid than….nu uhhh, your breath smells like…..Yea….you HEAD even stinks…..At least I wash my hair every day….Yea/??? If I had a nasty head like that I ‘d wash it every day too!”

We are staying now in Anchors Away RV resort in Foley Alabama. It’s VERY nice. We have the “Admiral lot” which is a double wide yard.

It’s a new resort and the sod lines still show. Nicely paved sites. Nice pool with a slanting entrance that is sort of like walking from the beach down into the water. It has lil fountains at the shallow end. No walk thru the fountains at the shallow end. Hot tub.


 Exercise room, ok..THAT’s a pretty empty spot. IT’s a large campground and it’s a testimony to the fortitude of campers: It’s NEARLY full. Despite gas/diesel prices….


CAMPERS CAMP…that’s the bottom line. We’ll make it work somehow. Sell a kidney, pawn a child..but true campers camp..regardless..

Case in point: Yesterday was the first day we have eaten out. Yes, it was at a McDonalds. LOL. We were waiting on Katie’s air-brushed tshirt to be done. Anthony doesn’t like souvenier tshirts.  That worries me some. It’s as if he’s afraid to be identified as a camper. AS I sat with my “happy campers” t shirt on, I tried to explain it’s like being a sports fan and wearing a shirt to support the St. Louis Cards or something. Didn’t matter. He loves to camp. Just doesn’t want to style it that way…recessive gene pool. I regal in it. More campy the better.  I am currently in search of a shirt I saw on a guy in Florida that said “instant camper…just add coffee”. Just a second while I take a big gulp of strong PERKED coffee out of my Yellowstone mug.  I’ll be right back.

K. Back. Good coffee with the high fat heavy whipping cream as creamer. Yes, very bad for you, one table spoon is loaded in fat, but it’s my vice. Leave me alone.

Some shirtless guy in blue Bermuda shorts and a whie visor is outside wasing his camper and discussing the diesel prices with his neighbor two slots down. They talk like long time friends, laughing. Each one understanding that probably, they will never see each other again. But for this moment in their life, they are best buddies. Would help his fellow camper with a flipped awning, a flat tire or birth a baby.

My family is stirring around and I have promised that once we get here, life is slower and i will cook breakfast outside. All of the retired ole men at the beach who had been there for months made me look bad as they cooked bacon outside for their families. Me? I tell mine, bacon is bad for you, get some cereal. And they walk by the old man feeding his brood the freshly cooked bacon on the way to the beach, and they salivate. But they understand. They understand that for me the beach is a drug. I have to have it. I’m up early, out late on the beach.  There might be another shark sighting or kids laughing building stuff. Another turtle came in to lay her eggs. Another swarm of fish start jumping out of the water until the seagulls spot them and start diving and the fish are all of a sudden much quieter. Another wave washes under the unsuspecting tourists chair and gets their butt wet and they scream. Another retired man, that is so happy to be alive and made it this far as he strolls down the beach, wrinkled brown, wide brim hat on, smiling with a cigar and blue socks on his feet to complete the vision.  When I retire, that’s what I want; blue socks. Blue socks to wear with shorts to the beach.  You can see the sky meeting the clear blue water at a very thin line. Under that line lies so many treasures: ships, creatures that only God has seen, classrings that have fallen off and possibly even the evasive blue diamond that Leonardo sought. For me, going to the beach is being a kid in your mind and your body. But it also recalibrates my life to a zero.

When you see where God put the line between the heaven and are zeroed.

I’ll post some pictures later on today on here, but for now, I must spoil my family.