Moving water around
Today was a reunion date, for my dear wife, with a cousin she hadn’t seen in ages. We agreed to get together for breakfast, in what can be termed “neutral territory”, and then stayed put for hours. The poor waitress with her ready smile and coffee pot was close to despair, when we finally left our table just in time for her noontime rush.
There were errands to run, including getting more DES at Canadian Tire. Another store with high stacks; it must be a regional thing. And then, back to the campground for the kind of things done more easily in a full house. Showers, laundry (both paid with a magic money card that would “kiss” a glowing icon on the wall. I had never showered with timed water before, and great focus is required to avoid a soapy scalp).
For me, I wanted to dump and fill, and we had taken a 3-way site with than as a plan. No big deal. I know the drill. The water pressure was really good, as we had been warned, but I had that nifty little pressure regulator to keep the firehose effect at a minimum.
With all in order, we used a combination of GPS and dead reckoning to join the cousin for supper. With a fenced ground, our dog could run free and annoy their hound, caged and open to loud dog-discussion. By chance, when the sound of a water pump caught our attention, we learned that we had just transferred a full cistern of fresh water across to the grey tank. Assured that all the winter antifreeze had been cleaned out. And repeating the afternoon process, just before dark with skeeters, kept me on task.
We learned (by asking someone from the area) that those pretty black and white birds are magpies. A new species, for me.
