USS Lexington Museum

Corpus Christi, Tx

June 28, 2017

Having browsed the amazing Texas State Aquarium with its amazing marine life, breathtaking decor, lively  dolphins, fascinating wildlife and hands-on, multimedia exhibits, we check it off our list of “places to visit” and step outside where I see the USS Lexington moored, nearby. It looks almost close enough to touch.

“Oh, good,” I say, nudging Jeff. “There’s the ship over there. Let’s just walk.”

He chuckles.

“Think again, babe. It’s farther away than it looks.”

So, after a longer drive than we had expected, we pull into the Lexington parking lot, and hop onto a shuttle that  the admission booth. As we have come to expect, the cost for two senior tickets is short of $13, but, hey, even that price doesn’t seem too steep for peak tourist season on Corpus Christi’s North Beach. And, just as I was eager to visit the aquarium, Jeff has been hankering to see the Lexington Museum.

Upon entrance to the ship, Jeff and I study the map that we picked up at the admission booth and find that the hangar deck is divided into three areas: Bay 1, including the foc’sle and the Joe Jessel 3D Mega Theater, in the bow end of the ship. Bay 2 containing virtual battle stations and a stage. Bay 3, located toward the fantail, encompassing a souvenir shop called “Ship’s Store” and a flight simulator. Both of these areas we find on the starboard, or right side. On the fantail end, or the stern, is the mess deck where we share a cinnamon roll and an iced tea before time for the 3D film at the Joe Jessel 3D Mega Theater for films of the USS Lexington in action during World War II, showing airplanes from all branches of the Armed Services, submarines, and lots of bombs exploding in the ocean. It was spectacular!

Yes, the USS Lexington is now a museum, but let us never forget that it is still an actual U.S. Navy ship in every way,  with stairs at right angles with the floor and portals that can really trip you up if you don’t step lively.  And when I say “you”, I mean me. Especially me. As I hug the rails on the way downstairs, I marvel at the young, agile sailors who once clambered up and down those same stairs, back then. As Jeff and I wander from one section to the next — the chapel, the galleys, the medical and dental bays, the bunks, and the library — my screenwriter’s vision imagines a slapstick-chase scene in which two bumble-brains trip, stumble, and tumble up and down those stairs and over one portal after another as they scramble up and down those narrow death-defying stairs in hot pursuit of each other.

Last, we wander out on the flight deck together to see planes from the Air Force, Navy, Marines, and Army on display. As I sit on a bench and rest, Jeff waves at me from the upper decks.

As we straggle off the ship, my last words, “Thank God for the shuttle” come back to bite me as someone tells us that the shuttle has stopped running for the rest of the night. Thankfully, we have only a street to cross before we return to the parking lot and the comfort of our Ford F350 pickup. On our way off the parking lot, Jeff slips the required token into the box, and soon we are on our way back to Aransas Pass by way of Pepito’s Mexican Restaurant where Stephen brings Jeff a frosty beer and me, a satisfying ‘one-and-you’re-done’-sized frozen margarita and zesty enchiladas that satisfy our craving for Mexican food.

Now, on July 31, a little more than a month later, here we are in the country town of Comfort — near the heart of Texas Hill Country.  Although we are heading westward after we leave here, we keep a running list of places we want to return to: The Texas State Aquarium, the USS Lexington Museum, and Pepito’s Restaurant are definitely on our list.

So, loyal readers, what is one of the greatest adventures you have ever taken? Please share it with us! Who knows — we might even see you there, again. We love positive comments, so feel free to leave yours in the “Leave a Reply” box at the end of this post.

Next up: some of our favorite places in the Hill Country. No telling where we, the ‘Vintage Honeymooners’ will wind up, but one thing’s for sure –wherever we go, fun is sure to follow.












LIVING THE DREAM, Part 2: Debut Novel on The Way!



Here we are, living in Comfort — Comfort, Texas. As if life weren’t already so so good we could hardly stand it, it skyrocketed when my publisher texted me the great news: that my debut suspense novel, FROM HER MOTHER’S ARMS, would be launching sometime in the next two months on Amazon and other booksellers.

We kicked off the book-publishing process in June, while we were staying at Ransom Road RV Park in Aransas Pass, Texas. Stage by stage, I uploaded the photo for my “bio”, and chose the book cover that  communicated the soul of my story.

Last Sunday, as we were eating lunch at  Alamo Springs Cafe, near the Old Tunnel State Park, near Fredericksburg, Texas, I was scrolling through my email when I landed on a request for an interview.  While I didn’t know the sender — a WordPress blogger named Fiona Mcvie — I did see that she and I shared 74 mutual friends on Facebook and that she was from Inverness. Later, after we got home, I began answering the thirty-some questions she had sent me via email. Toward the end of the evening, I  sent my answers back to her. In a few days, the interview went “live” on WordPress. I’ve inserted the link below.

Fiona Mcvie’s Interview with me

In the meantime, I’ve been sidetracked from my WordPress blog for the best possible reason! Pictured above, is my book cover. I have set up my author site on Facebook and have inserted a link to my author page on LinkedIn, Instagram, Pinterest, StumbleUpon, Twitter, and Tumblr. 

That said, I’ll soon be posting the latest adventure of the Vintage Honeymooners: the USS Lexington Museum in Corpus Christi, Texas.

So, loyal readers, I do appreciate your comments. Please scroll down below the blog and share your thoughts and positive input on this post. And stay tuned for the adventures of Jeff and Kim, the ‘Vintage Honeymooners’. You just never know where we will turn up, next!



OUR ALL-DAY JUNKET INTO CORPUS CHRISTI, Part I: Exploring the Texas State Aquarium

Wednesday, June 28

Ever since we first blew into Corpus Christi on our way home from Port Aransas, we promised each other we would stop to visit the Texas State Aquarium and the USS Lexington Museum, but probably not in the same day.  But, today, we plan to make this outing a double-whammy.  But when I think of writing about both sights in one post, I realize there is too much about each place to cover them, at once. Therefore, I have decided to cover the aquarium,  first.

Earlier, as we were driving into Corpus Christi,  Jeff asked me where I wanted to go, first. My answer was a slam-dunk;”Why, the aquarium, of course.”

When I was little, Daddy would take us to Hotel Breakers on Corpus Christi’s North Beach. Since then, I have always been in love with the ocean, especially the Texas gulf coast and its fish and other marine life. I am rarin’ to roam the museum to my heart’s content, in spite of its pricey admission: $32.50 per senior, or $65.90, plus taxes, for the two of us. As we stagger through the front door after a near-heart attack at the ticket booth, we remind each other that, although the admission price is steep, it does cover all activities in the building and, if we don’t catch all of it, we can return with our ticket later in the day and pay no additional charge.

Our first “handshake” with the aquarium is a girl handing us a map. After thanking her, we veer left, starting with the first section, the “Gulf of Mexico”. Pixaresque 3D displays with fish drifting  as if they are swimming in their sleep have me snapping photos non-stop on my iPhone.  At one point, a red snapper glares at me for eating his kinfolk at Landry’s Seafood Restaurant, two days earlier.  Besides for 3D displays spectacular enough to make Walt Disney gasp from his grave, this aquarium offers interactive displays with docents to educate and monitor us. At one, I touch a starfish, expecting it to be hard, as it would be if I found it washed up on the shore. Instead, the living version of it feels spongy.. The highlight of these  hands-on exhibits is a tank with live, white jellyfish bobbing in the water.  People young and old are daring to touch them, as directed by a guide assuring  them that the white “bell” at the top, cannot hurt us.

At first, I back away.

“The top cannot sting you,” the guide emphasizes. ” Just touch it gently, like this, back and forth on the top,” he says, demonstrating as he talks.

“Go ahead, babe,” says Jeff, whipping his phone from his holster. “I’ll  take a picture of you doing it.”

” One of these rascals stung me when I was a kid. I’m not touching it. No sirree-bob!”

Just then, a  little girl who doesn’t appear to be more than five years old, plunges her tiny  hand into the water and — plink! just like that — touches its pulsating bell-shaped top.

Well, now, that does it, I’m thinking, as I watch her. Even though one of these critters  stung me when I was her age, that’s where it stops. I will not be outdone by a kid. So I point to Jeff’s phone.

“Okay, boy, we’re on. Pull up that camera.” I tell him, as I pretend to roll up my sleeves. So he pans in on what is sure to be a fight to the finish between Mr. Jellyfish and me as I plunge my hand into the water and swipe my finger across the top of the jiggly creature in hit-and-run fashion.

Ploop!  Done. I’m good. Now show me to the gift shop. I’ve gotta have a tee-shirt that boasts my bravery for the world to see.

In the same area as the jellyfish, we see other tentacled creatures: squid and octopi. As I look at them, I remember my last calamari.

In yet another area, “Caribbean Journey”, we meet the Lionfish, who resembles a fishy version of the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz with its whiskers going every which way. It happens to be the same kind of fish that recently bit one of our granddaughters.

I am the King. The Boss,” it snarls as it patrols the water. “Nobody. Messes. With. Me.”

“You so-and-so,” I growl,  staring it down. “Bite our Sydney, again, and you’re ‘dinner‘.”

Soon, we have seen everything there is to see inside and are pretty doggone hungry, so we stop in at the Shoreline Grill, a cafeteria-style cafe that offers burgers, hot dogs, pizza slices, and wraps. We plop a spinach-and-chicken wrap and an orange Gatorade onto our tray, pay the outrageous sum of $9.12 for it, and grab a table where we watch the most fascinating species:  people.

When we’ve devoured the last of our wraps, we amble outside to the  HEB “Splash Park” where kiddos of almost all ages slide and splash around on a watery surface. We pass “Dolphin Bay” where playful dolphins try to outdo each other, and stop to snap pictures of the stingrays at “Feed the Rays”, all of which we breezed past on the way to  “You ‘Otter’ Know This” where we listen to another presentation about otters from both fresh and salt water. When she finishes, it’s time for  “Wild Flight Theater” where staff introduce us to whiskered owls, parrots, turkey buzzards, and even African cats.

As much as we have seen, today, there is so much more that we did not get to see, namely the 4D “Shark” movie, sponsored by What-a-burger. Jeff and I promise each other that we will come back, the next time we’re on the coast. For now, we’re already worn out with one more sight to see: USS Lexington.

So, esteemed readers, what are some noteworthy sights that you recommend seeing, and where are they? I’d love to hear from you! Please type your comments in the box appearing below this post.

Jeff and I have only a few days left on the Coast and are looking for our next place to land. Coming soon at a Smartphone, tablet, or laptop near you: our jaunt to the USS Lexington, next to the aquarium. After that, who knows where we crazy “VintageNewlyweds” will turn up, next.







Tuesday, June 27

As I sit in my “writer’s cave” — a recliner in our RV– I am bubbling all over myself  about  a thrilling development about to happen. In a few months, FROM HER MOTHER’S ARMS, the first book in my two-book series, will be published. A few months later, the second book, BY HER DAUGHTER’S HANDS, will follow. At last, an acquaintance of ours in the publishing business wants to publish my books  so I can get them into my readers’ hands where they belong.

The process has already begun. After I submitted full drafts of both stories, my “bio” and a photo, synopses, and book-jacket blurbs, I am now receiving pictures of book covers to consider. By the end of the week, I expect  to receive the first track of edits.

This is really going to happen, I tell myself. Soon, I will transition from writer to author. Like every other worthwhile venture, this debut novel and change of roles has been a long time coming.

Up until January 2009, I wrote and sold poetry, only. But when Cousin BeeGee emailed me about a writing workshop called “The Laughing Gull”, in Port Aransas, she added, “I see your name all over this.”

So, at her invitation, I flew down to reunite with her after thirty-some years and to attend the workshop, held at Port Aransas High School. Purely for the fun of it, I attended non-poetry workshops. One was about writing the memoir. But the one I enjoyed most was presentation on writing a mystery novel.

“What fun!” I thought, rubbing my hands together, as we received hand-outs about writing mystery.  The presenter, David Ciambrone, even announced that special evening meeting titled “Murder 101” would take place in a nearby condo, that night. At that presentation, we would be covering blood-splatter patterns, weapons and poisons for killing the “victims” (in our books, that is), and other deliciously-gory stuff.

At times like these, I feel like a proud parent looking at her children’s photos, I flip back to my earlier drafts to laugh at the blunders I made, back then, and show myself how far I have come.  And like some mothers, I can even remember when and where BY HER DAUGHTER’S HANDS was conceived: in January of 2009, around noon, in the air somewhere between Corpus Christi and Dallas.

The story, about a newly-married travel writer forced to fly home from a long-awaited  writing assignment in Barcelona to care for her ailing mother in  the wake of her father’s death,  originated from my own experiences as my mother’s caregiver until I gave the story a diabolical what-if.

Since I first started writing this novel, I have banged out revision after revision,  each one an improvement over the one before it. I read mystery-and-suspense novels as voraciously as if I were popping peanut M&Ms. I experimented with point-of-view, prologues and epilogues, hired some characters, and fired others. When I got really frustrated, I re-tooled the plots. Friends who knew what I was up to hounded me with the question: “When is it going to be published?”

I wrote, re-wrote, and wrote again, but each time, I got lost in the labyrinth that BY HER DAUGHTER’S HANDS had become with more twists and turns, tall peaks, loopety-loops, and dark tunnels  than a Six Flags Over Texas roller-coaster. It also boasted a cast that would have made filmmaker Cecil B. DeMille drool. Each one of my characters, including “walk-ons”, “extras” and their dogs,  I felt was important enough for their own first and last names and convoluted back stories.

With too many characters and storylines for a single book, I  knew there was no other way to finish it unless I turned part of it into a prequel beginning in the 1950s if I didn’t want my novel to double as a doorstop. I had to write a prequel  beginning in the 1950s, showing the mother as a pregnant, unwed teen struggling with a decision no mother would want to make: whether to keep her baby or  place  her for adoption for her own good, as small-town society during that period dictated.

Enter FROM HER MOTHER’S ARMS, about Sybil at seventeen and Mona Lisa, her own “priceless work of art” born out of wedlock. When this work is ready, it will be available both in print and e-book format and distributed to bookstores.

I can hardly wait for the moment I can announce this book is ready. When it is, it will be available in print and e-book formats and distributed to bookstores and Amazon.

Loyal readers, what genres do you like to read? I love hearing from you and am super excited about giving you the opportunity to read my first book. Stay tuned for my next post, coming to you on your friendly neighborhood smartphone, tablet, or laptop.






RANSOM NOTES: A Review of Ransom Road RV Park

June 16

Ransom Road RV Park

After we left Hill Country RV Resort, in New Braunfels, on Thursday, June 8, Jeff and I made the hour-and-a-half drive to the Texas coast. Although we had a rough idea of where we wanted to go and how long we wanted to stay before we even moved out of our Arlington townhouse, we wanted one of our first stops to be at Port Aransas, as that’s where my heart has been for years. Alas, since we were already into June — peak summer season — Jeff found out that many of the parks in “Port A” were full of vacationers wanting to stay there as late as July 4. Still, we wanted to stay in a location that was central to Corpus Christi, Port Aransas, and Rockport — our three favorite coastal spots — where we planned to take little day trips.

At last, as I listened in, Jeff found a vacancy at Ransom Road RV Park, in Aransas Pass. At first, I’ll admit that the idea of not being near the water didn’t thrill me. In fact, my past impression of Aransas Pass was just that of a town to whizz through on the way to Corpus Christi. While there was nothing necessarily bad about it, it just didn’t seem like anything special.

But as we pulled our rig into Ransom Road RV Park, we found it sparkling-clean and  peppered with palm trees. It gave me a whole new respect for what Aransas Pass had to offer.

According to a map of Ransom Road, the park offers both pull-through and back-in spaces for 122 RV of varying sizes, including Class A motorhomes, Airstreams, tear-drop travel trailers,  fifth-wheels like ours, and variations thereof. To better serve the residents of those RVs, there are two separate laundry rooms and bathrooms with showers and toilets for those times when, say, someone — here insert a pointed clearing of the throat –is occupying the one. single. bathroom. Park residents using those bathrooms can rest assured that they are secure, as each person needing to use the facilities has to punch in a code and press the “enter” button, from the outside. If there is someone inside a room, he or she can lock the door for added privacy.

The mailroom requires a different code from that of the laundry and bathrooms. Except for Sundays, mail usually, but not always, arrives around noon or later.

Then, there is The Captain’s Den, an activity room where residents can play board games, dominoes, or poker, shoot pool, borrow paperbacks or DVDs, or write. It even has a kitchen for any events involving the serving of food. Besides for the wide variety of games on the shelf, there are also paperback novels on one shelf and DVDs on another.  On July 4, there will even be a free barbeque for everyone living in the park.

Now, with all of these RVs around, someone might assume that a lot of visiting goes on among park dwellers. Well, yes and no. Yes because we “RV-types” do tend to be friendly and helpful, but no, because we also like our privacy. Many who live in this park and others like it actually live here and work nearby. When they straggle home, the last thing they feel like doing is making small talk for the sake of it. In other words, they — we — nod and say “Hi” while we are out walking our dogs or wave as we pass each other on the road, but we also respect each other’s privacy and space.

Space. Now that leads me to the next point: pets. Ransom Road has two dog runs with a covered can for disposing of “puppy poo”. Those of us, including Jeff and me, who have fur-babies, have formed the habit of grabbing a plastic bag when we walk our dogs.  Chances are, we’ll need it if we walk them very far. Since we have discovered that stores stock puppy “pee-pads”, only, we have had to improvise, as only one park provided plastic bags at its dog runs. Freezer-size bags are perfect for carrying out this “task” as they fit most hands perfectly, allowing us to turn the bags inside-out when we collect Russet’s “waste” and dump it in the allotted can.

We are now into our second week out of the month we reserved here. Other than the sketchy WiFi, which the management told us about, up front, we have been really happy here, so much so that we are toying with the idea of staying here for one  more month before we go further south, west, east, or north — wherever our rig takes us.

So, dear readers, if any of you have ever stayed in an RV park, what was one thing about it that you liked, or did not like? What did you expect from living there? Please feel free to share one of your experiences. I love hearing from you and reading your comments. Please scroll down to the Comments box below this post and share your thoughts.

And, in the meantime, keep your ears to the ground. Another adventure of the “Vintage Honeymooners” is coming to your favorite mode of digital technology soon. You just never know where we’ll turn up next.




MY QUEST FOR FISH TACOS, PART 2: “Returning to our ‘Favorite Willie'”

Friday, June 16

Last Friday, I posted about a  seafood grill Jeff and I discovered: Redfish Willie’s Waterfront Grill. As if we thought our food could taste any more delicious than it already did,  the nice chefs there took our tastebuds above the clouds.

“Hey, y’all! Glad to see you, again!” said Jade, the ‘welcome host’ at the entrance.

“We told you we’d be back,” I said, hugging her. “And here we are.”

After Jade seated us at the same table as last time, she returned to her post, and Debbie took over, bringing our menus. She, also, had a hug for each of us.

“So, what kind of drinks can I bring you, this time?”

“Ummmm…I’ll have the same kind of beer I had last time,” Jeff said. “Whatever that was.”

“That would be the Redfish,” Debbie said, noting it on the order.

“And what can I bring  you, this time?” she asked me.

“A ‘Rum Runner’ sounds intriguing,” I said. “What’s in it?”

“Bacardi rum with different kinds of fruit juices. And it’s frozen.”

“And that peach drink?”

“Captain Morgan rum, peach schnapps, and fruit juice.”

Schnapps, I mused, remembering the Christmas Eve dinner in Sweden that I enjoyed with my son, Tam, and his family. We would be eating away on our reindeer and pickled herring when someone would pick up his or her glass and  break out in a drinking song, and we’d all down our schnapps at the end of the song. Schnapps, I reminded myself, tasted a whole lot like how I’d imagine varnish would taste. In fact, I had just “borrowed” Tam’s glass to hold up during the songs before putting it down, untouched.

Remembering my sketchy tolerance for rum and the mojito that, once upon a time, turned into a mo-heave-to in my stomach when I drank it too fast. But that happened when I chugged it on an empty stomach. This time, since I’d be sipping it along with a meal, I would be ‘golden’.

So I chose the Rum Runner, anyway. After all, it would be frozen, like a rum Slurpee, and contain fruit juice. Fruit’s good for me, right?

After Debbie brought out my Rum Runner and Jeff’s “Redfish,” an IPA beer made in Goliad, she took our food orders. Since the fish tacos had made such a hit, my order was a no-brainer:  tacos with blackened shrimp, red beans and rice, and one cup of mango sauce and a cup of remoulade, a sauce I hadn’t tasted since the mid-1950s when Mama and Daddy and I ate dinner at Corpus Christi’s Ship Ahoy Restaurant. Jeff ordered the entree portion of Harbor Salad which consisted of a mound of fresh, green lettuce leaves dolled up with cranberries and walnuts, and accompanied by a tantalizing slab of  savory redfish with lemon slices. After our filling dinner and two drinks apiece, we joked about riding a  buggy — the “beach” version of Uber — back to our RV before Jeff signed  our tab and Debbie brought me an iced tea to go.

According to a slogan on the souvenir beer koozies, Redfish Willie’s Waterfront Grill is  “coastal seafood at its finest.” We believe it is, too. We will certainly be back again and again…and again, because, as that koozie also says, our “favorite ‘Willie’ lives in Texas.”

So, esteemed readers, what favorite restaurant, cafe, or burger joint do youulike the food so much that you make an effort to return to, even if it’s out of your way? Please share it with us. We would like to go there and tell ’em you sent us. I love reading your comments. Please scroll down below this post and post them in the “Comments” box.

In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled for the “Vintage Honeymooners'” next adventure  on a  laptop, desktop, tablet, or Smartphone nearest you.







LIVING THE DREAM: RV Living from Both Angles

June 10, 2017

Ransom Road RV Park

Aransas Pass, TX

Just recently, a friend of ours who has admitted to living vicariously through my posts, told me, “You’re truly living the dream.”

And we are. Since the day Jeff and I got married, we began to plan how we wanted to share the rest of our lives with each other. It started when I retired, took a tricky U-turn when I broke my shoulder and had to hold on tight for eight weeks while Jeff and I finished our therapies. We put our house on the market, sold it to cash buyers after the third try, and bought our RV and a truck strong enough to tow it on the day after we closed on the sale of our house — May 25, 2017. Now, since our first night in our fifth-wheeler, we have been  RV dwellers; June 26 will make it a month. Even though my husband once lived by himself in a C & M RV/horse trailer when he sold Western-themed paintings, he and  I have learned that RV living is an ongoing lesson with joys and pitfalls. And, just like learning to ride a bike, you have to fall down a few times, first, before you get it right. Although we love our cozy home-on-wheels, we’ll be the first to share five differences we have noticed between our brick-and-stick home and our RV.

  • First, the walls in our RV  do not easily allow us to hang  pictures.  Precious  photos of grandparents and parents, children and grandchildren, nieces, nephews and cousins once, twice, or never removed, and pets would meet their “Waterloo” when the same sliders that graciously expand the living room, kitchen, or bedroom  retract before our fifth-wheel is ready to roll.  Just imagine the horror for yourself: -arriving at your new destination, tumbling out of your vehicle and climbing into the RV only to find  that a slider has crushed the photo of your dear Aunt Maudie like a discarded Coke can. Now, if you still feel — like I did — that you really must see your family’s faces, every. single. day, you can scan their  photos onto your iPad or tablet and  watch those pictures in a random, continuous loop. But if you can wait until you do have room for them, you can store them in a climate-controlled facility for a monthly fee.

*   Second, RV toilet paper is different from the standard kind you would use in a brick-and-mortar home. It is biodegradable paper that quickly dissolves. You can find this kind of  paper in two-roll or four-roll packs in camper-supply stores such as  Camping World for a slightly higher price but you will find it cheaper at  Wal-Mart.

*  Third, RV showers are radically different. Do you love to linger under the steam? I did, too, when we lived in our townhouse. But, when we moved into our fifth-wheel, I learned, the hard way, that hot water lasts only as long as it lasts, and that is not for long. About the time you wet yourself down with the handheld shower head, lather up, and then rinse,  the water turns cold. RV “veterans” will tell you about devices that keep your water  hotter for longer but, as with any other luxury, it’ll cost you. Sometimes the best way to enjoy complimentary hot showers is to use the ones at your RV park.

  • Fourth is limited space. When we bought our 34-foot fifth-wheel, we were agog at the amount of storage. Cabinets, pantries, closets, and drawers gave us the feeling that we had space to spare until we moved in and tried to store  both our trusty coffeemaker and the cut, red Keurig I had bought for my upstairs writer’s cave, several years ago. When push came to shove, one got banished to a remote cabinet above the microwave. Three guesses which one won the honorary spot beside the stove. Yep, you guessed it: the coffeemaker. And while we’re talking space, the freezer in our refrigerator provides space for one half-gallon of Bluebell ice cream.  Dr. Pepper mini cans.  A quart, rather than a gallon, of milk. Shoot, come to think of it,  our fridge could be  the best diet aid ever.

* Fifth is expense. While you do not have expenses such as  property tax, water and electric bills, and neighborhood association (HOA) dues unless you buy a lot,  you are still responsible for your own phone bill, gas, groceries, and maintenance of your RV.

Now that I’ve pointed to the underbelly of RV living,, I will stress the exciting part: being able to claim “Everywhere, USA” as our hometown.  A popular tee-shirt slogan I saw at Camper’s World said, “Home is Where You Park It.” Jeff and I are enjoying quite an adventure. After spending the first week in Arlington, just down the street from our former house, we traveled to New Braunfels and are now on the Texas Gulf Coast. From there, who knows? El Paso, Texas? Phoenix, Arizona? San Diego, California? The fun is making it up as we go along.

I’m sure there will always be those little hiccups in RV life. I’ve listed are only five of them. Now, the ball is in your “court”, dear readers. Have you ever stayed in a recreational vehicle on vacation or for life? What was the biggest drawback you discovered? And what did you like most about it? Speak up, for your wisdom and insight could help someone else “live the dream”.

I love receiving comments from you! Please scroll down below this post and leave your comments in the box provided. And stay tuned for our next excellent adventure wherever that may be. You just never know where we “vintage honeymooners” will turn up, next.