Canadian-Traveler

A call from the Hospital
The unexpected happened today. They called from the Hospital asking whether Bea could make it to Saint John before 10.15am tomorrow. What a question...we are desperate to make it, would even make it to Timbuktu if the Hospital was there.


Even though this call ignites a hope, it doesn't mean we can make plans for a get-away just yet. 


But since I got nothing much to do I started the big baggage compartment clean-up. I am talking about the motor home, naturally. 


When I had all compartment doors open I noticed that 3 rubber gaskets were hanging loose on the lower end. I have tried to kinda glue them back a few times, but the metal inside the gaskets are rusty and broken into xxxx pieces. So after some contemplating I got a knive and a scissor. I cut the gaskets in the corners left and right and removed the entire lower part. Then I poked and peeled the remaining rusty parts of the metal out of there. Next step was cutting the lips off the gasket with the scissor and washing the whole thing under warm water. With our heat gun I dried everything and after cleaning the rim of the compartment doors I used a 3M-Plastic adhesive to glue the rubber onto the outside of the rim. To my surprise the adhesive seemed to hold the gasket in place when I had adhesive on both sides and let it dry a bit before pressing it together. The result is that all compartment doors are now sealed off against water from the road.

With that done, it was time to start the actual clean-up. I removed everything from inside and placed it on a tarp. Then Mr.ShopVac came into play. Of course I had to insert my body the entire length into the compartment to really get into every spot. I have to be thankful that most of my neighbors have long since returned to their homes in the U.S., otherwise I suspect all kind of curious visitors might have been popping up to investigate the reason why only my feet were sticking out of the baggage compartment. Similar thing has happened before.



It hits me every fall, that the days seem to be quieter than they were all summer. No wind rustles the dry leaves, and even the birds seem to hold their breath. We walk along quiet gravel paths through the woods and we don't speak. Only Molly is pursuing her usual ways of sniffing, catching small mice in the dry grass, being unaware of the approaching winter. Rays of sun find their way through trees and branches, letting still green leaves glow against the dark background of spruce trees. It is a time for pondering life, past and future. And boy, do we ever have a reason to do just that.

So tomorrow we are off to Saint John and there might be no posting as we most likely will return too late and be too tired.

Thanks for stopping here.