With his little soulful eyes, his sweet disposition, and his inquisitive nature, Rocket has quickly become the center of much of my attention. Especially given that my days are solitary, with Marc sleeping away in the bedroom after his long nights of graveyard shift. He logged an 80 hour week this first week on the new project; seven straight nights, and will now have to go for thirteen before his first break of a night off so his world has become a simple one of eating, sleeping, battling the commutes, and work.
I looked around enough of the area coming in and getting out once to grocery shop to know there really is nothing here I care to see so I am saving expensive fuel and staying put in the RV. Everything here is old and decrepit, like there is no civic pride and no cohesiveness to the community save for bars on many of the windows. It is probably the closest thing to a ghetto we have ever had to stay near. I walk the single track of pavement in the RV park up and back enough times every morning to justify calling it a walk and then spend time allowing the kitties outside while it is still cool. Rocket at first was very timid but becomes bolder every day. He feels better sidling up next to big buddy Tucker when there is stranger-danger.
We can already note just how quickly he is growing. There is nothing he hasn’t investigated if he can reach it. He is a momma’s boy, no doubt about it. He plays himself silly and then collapses into sleep in the most incongruous positions at the drop of a hat, like a napping baby. If it’s not in my lap, then that’s when I can get some things done without his interference, so I am taking those precious few hours to get back into my jewelry making.
Marc will need to go to San Bernardino, the next project site, on Friday for a pre-construction meeting and will take that time to peruse the available RV parks. We figure not many could be worse than this one, where we just did get working cable TV yesterday and we struggle daily with spotty off and on again WIFI. To say nothing of course about the daily merry-go-round of vans and small Class C’s which back in two feet from our trailer’s rear making a spot out of our leftover space. Each time I hold my breath and say a prayer that the novices in these rental RVs know enough of what they are doing to not hit and destroy the back end of our rig. And then I wonder when they will pull out so I can once again access all of my back basement storage lockers. Yup—they’re that close, that even our own storage is off limits to us. RIDICULOUS. This is a van as seen from my kitchen window: