We got a washer

The Bucduke and Lauren couldn't live a day longer without the modern luxury of a clothes washer. I'll agree, hand washing clothes is a pain in the ass - because I'm the only one that did it. So we bought one from Curt - a repairman in Wailua. It even comes with a warranty, from Curt, which is nice.

This acquisition raises an interesting question: at what point is camp no longer considered to be a camp? When we get a washer, that's when.

"Get Jiggy Wit it"....it's Hammer time.

The Bucduke has landed. Blake and Grasshopper are packing. Time to finish the "roundhouse". Camp took a small Winter hit...which is to say there was a little rain damage and the bugs kind of moved in since no one else was around. They are quickly realizing that the 'humans' are back so they are retreating and the water damage was nothing more than a water logged countertop. As usual, remodeling is taking place. I need a place to sleep and I'm thinking it's time to move my part of camp into the big house and start "feeling it". An essential element of creativity. We are also totally flying solo electrically. Nothing but battery power. No problem-o. Beer on ice works just fine!

Next door neighbor Dick, although his name is Bob, came over again nostrils flared.... demanding that we tear down camp. "It looks like the Beverly Hillbillys! You're dragging down the neighborhood property values". He's probably a little pissy thinking he's not going to get laid until he gets back the meadow view he and his wife enjoyed for years until we showed up. He is probably jealous of our lifestyle and the likelyhood that our house will be more attractive than his shit hole. For his age, he has an embarrassingly adolescent maturity level. Some professional help with communication skills might be a beneficial acquisition for his toolbox.

The "Range" is happenin' again. We need visitors. There are no excuses!