Daisy bought some\nfruit, power bars, beef jerky, a six pack of stout and a carton of\nAmerican Spirits from the store. She ate her breakfast at a picnic\ntable and watched Bruce drive the Vixen to its new space and then\nback it into position. Bruce ran Daisy through a tutorial on hooking\nup the RV to power, sewer, water, cable TV and a propane tank he\nsupplied. It was all simple enough and Daisy caught on quick. Bruce\nhanded her the keys and said he had the title ready to sign over.\nDaisy said she’d get the money transferred to Bruce’s account later\nthat afternoon. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Over the next three\nhours, Daisy transferred the rest of Lorna’s possessions from the\nlaundry room into the rig: pots, pans, toaster, cutlery, dish towels,\nbath towels, throw rugs, throw pillows, cleaning supplies and spices\nfrom dill to paprika. But there was more than just the essentials.\nThere were crocheted coasters and porcelain woodland creatures. There\nwas a gilded clock and candles. There were cassette and VHS tapes.\nThere were books, too, Westerns and bodice rippers. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Daisy then\nransacked her Volvo for anything she could use in the RV and\ndiscovered she had nothing clean to wear except for some red sweats.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Well, Lorna’s\nclothes were clean, so Daisy picked out a choice lime green and baby\nblue Western shirt with some exquisite embroidery and put it on over\nthe sweats and felt like a new woman. (Wearing a vintage Western\nshirt has a tendency to do that.) \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Daisy rolled out\nher sleeping bag on the bed, crawled in, and rolled around like a\ngiggling kid on a camping trip. She thought about sacking out for a\nfew minutes, but there was too much to do and her energy level\ndemanded action. She checked her phone for messages and about a dozen\nurgently awaited her response, including three from doctors. Daisy\ndidn’t respond. She got up and surveyed her handiwork. At last, the\nVixen’s reappointment was complete. Long live Lorna! <\/em>Daisy sat\ndown on the couch to rest and admire her new home. She fired up a\ncigarette. Are RVs really a home?<\/em> she thought. Doesn’t RV\nstand for recreational vehicle<\/em>? I’m not going to be\nvacationing here. <\/em>A mild panic gripped Daisy, but a long drag and\nslow exhale calmed her down. Daisy looked again around the Vixen.\nSomething was missing. She couldn’t place it…<\/p>\n\n\n\n It lacked Christmas\nand Christmas was almost here. What the hell was happening? Daisy\nhadn’t cared about Christmas. Her favorite Scrooge-like line at work\nwas, \u201cChristmas is shit.\u201d That always busted them up in the\noperating room. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n Daisy raced into\ntown first for groceries and asked a clerk about thrift stores. She\ngot the lowdown and a few minutes later was rummaging through a shop\nwhose proceeds benefited an animal shelter. Half an hour later, Daisy\nwas loading up the Volvo with boxes of lights and decorations,\nextension cords, power strips, a fake tree, a couple of outdoor\nplastic Santas, and an all-dog miniature nativity scene that was so\nbizarre and preposterous that it demanded purchasing. How Daisy was\ngoing to display this nativity scene hadn’t yet come to her. But it\nwould. She was on a roll. Rolling \n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Daisy bought some fruit, power bars, beef jerky, a six pack of stout and a carton of American Spirits from the store. She ate her breakfast at a picnic table and watched Bruce drive the Vixen to its new space and then back it into position. Bruce ran Daisy through a tutorial on hooking up […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5653,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5652","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5652","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5652"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5652\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5655,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5652\/revisions\/5655"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5653"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5652"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5652"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5652"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}