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 Duchess has taken up the habit of crawling up to one of the other cats, snuggling right up against them, then shrieking at them and slapping.  It's like Game of Thrones but with no sex and less blood, just four cats deciding who rules the tent.

Duchess, plotting.

It's me, dammit.  I rule the tent.  Right?  Right, friends?

We woke up and we mostly on the floor, each one of us.  Aaron tried to get off his double height airbed and onto his chair and ended up rolling right over onto the floor at the end of his bed.  Joey and I froze, but then Aaron started laughing, his deep belly laugh.

I won't lie, it took a lot for us to haul him upright and into his chair.  He's got skinny arms and legs and his comfortable belly, and we are not strong, Joey and I. 

I'd promised the kids swimming if it wasn't raining.  We had root beer and plain bread for breakfast.  Joey won't eat plain and will only have pbj toasted because of his severe sensory issues with food, so he just had root beer.  

While we were sitting out, the Boss Lady of the campground pulled up in her golf cart and said "Hey! I wanna talk to you about the bathroom situation!" and I immediately felt this horrible flash of guilt because I have been dragging Aaron into the women's bathroom.

But she just wanted to tell me she's been thinking about it, and we could probably benefit from the secret, unmarked accessible shower/bathroom that they mostly used for storage, so she emptied it out, cleaned it up, and friends, my family now has our very own private spa bathroom.  Well, cinderblock shower room with a toilet in it.

  I had purchased Aaron a commode from Walmart, which will deliver to the campground, and forgot to mention that (it happened yesterday).  That's how we got the gravy and root beer and bread.  We waited at the campsite until the delivery was on the way, and then I headed down to the general store with my lil wagon to pick it up.  Had gotten the wagon on the way in when Rundes stopped at Walmart in the bus, torn by worries something would happen and I would have to haul Aaron somehow, and desperately needed a wagon that could haul at least 170 lbs.  Also, once the cats are good at their harnesses, perhaps they'll like to go for a ride.  Who knows?  The world is a wild place.

So I hauled my wagon down there, and the delivery lady passed me on her way to my site.  She couldn't find the site, so she headed back down to the general store, where we met up and I got our fresh swag because I am cool like that.

Anyway.

We ate our bread and drank our root beer and then went and showered in our VIP shower, changed into our swim suits, and headed down to the pool.

Aaron refused to get in this time - it takes him a while to decide to do things, so he sat and watched me and Joey paddle around.  I wore sunscreen because I burned yesterday like a dingus.

Joey didn't remember swimming as well as he'd like, so I showed him how to tread water and float on his back.  He dog paddles just fine.  My own swimming is limited to head-above-water since I'm missing an eardrum to a cholesteatoma decades ago.  I did have a custom earplug made by an ENT to keep water out of my wonky ear, but that was presumably lost in the great Get Out.

I'll get another when we're settled, and then I can dunk my head under the water again.

We swam and Aaron laughed at us, for an hour or so, and then I got the kids a pizza with the last of our money. 

Haha what a nerd.  Me or him, who knows

The pepperoni pizzas here are $18, and we each get three cheesy, greasy slices of pure, hot food heaven.  They have farm fresh eggs here, unwashed, and I hope to get some soon.  Unwashed means I can store them safely without a fridge.

I need to get a fire going before I can cook, though.  I had texted my friend Alan to see if he had a hatchet, but he did not.

With a hatchet I can make some of the firewood I was given into kindling.  I'm also hoarding the firewood, though, because it is 7 bucks a bundle, and my only way to cook.  

We ate our pizza and headed back to the tent.  It was still cool in the tent, and the cats are napping all over the place.  It was about to start raining, so I took Aaron to the bathroom, then got him into the tent.

Our beds were sad and saggy.  I reinflated them, and Joey and I napped while Aaron watched a documentary about Mount St Helens on my Kindle.

When we woke up, Joey's bed was completely flat, and the rain was going in earnest.  

My bed is sad, but not completely flat.  Tomorrow we'll haul Joey's bed out and spray it with dawn-vinegar-water spray, inflate it, and patch it when we find the leak.  Honestly with four cats here, we're lucky we're doing this well.

Our luggage is still all out on the picnic table, covered with a tarp.  I misjudged, we should have gone for cots, but cots seemed expensive.  With cots, though, we'd be up off the ground, and we could shove the Too Much Crap beneath them.  And the cats couldn't pop them.

Right now it is 9:43 PM.  Joey is laying on a flat airbed, two sleeping bags, and an eggcrate foam pad.  I do not envy him.  My own ass is on the ground, but that's because I'm sitting on my airbed.  It's all fluffy around said ass though.  Aaron's bed is freshly inflated, he is playing Bloons on my kindle.  

Torrential rain is hammering the tent.  Spaghetti is hiding beneath Aaron's wheelchair.  The other cats are curled up around Joe.

Sketti occasionally also tries fighting the rain.

I am typing on my ancient, beloved Macbook.  All my stories are on here.

The thunder is impressive and a lil bit terrifying.

But I love the sound of rain on a tent. 

Alan texted me tonight to let me know he can help me out with the hatchet if I am even allowed to have one, as I have a Reputation.

So here's to a good night's sleep tonight, and enough kindling tomorrow that we can have a hot cooked meal!