We went camping with Wick's brother this weekend. It was freezing cold Friday night, and I just couldn't get warm, even standing right by the fire. So we went into Tommy's trailer, and he turned on the heat pump. Which seemed to me to be blowing cold air. So I went back to our RV. Two quilts, my knitted shawl over my feet, the little electric heater blazing its little heart out, and I was still freezing. I dreamed I was stranded in the Arctic, and our Pomeranian was pulling our sled.
Sat. turned out to be a pretty nice day. Sunny, warmer (for a few hours anyway), so we stayed outside all afternoon. Then it got cold again. Our sons were sitting on the tailgate of the pickup, drinking beer, and our little nephew was begging us to take him down to the water to see a dead fish (again), and I drank so much coffee I couldn't go to sleep for hours after I went inside and went to bed. I dreamed about making coffee and serving it to dead fish.
When we got home this evening, we backed the RV over the water connection. Water sprayed everywhere, Wick used some choice words, and almost ran over Frankie when he repositioned the RV.
Wonder what I will dream about tonight?