Friday, July 12, 2019

Bye-bye 5-gallon bucket

I’ve become so accustomed to having a proper toilet that squatting on a bucket now seems disgustingly primitive (again). So now I have this to tow along on my eventual return to the nomadic life. I’m going to try and rig a shower in it, too.

Okay, for those who might think I’m serious, I just happened to park next to it. It’s for the paving crew.

4 comments:

  1. Hi Al!

    What's going on with Chet these days? Who's keeping an eye on Zorro?

    Maple Valley Gal

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  2. Zorro stands watch over the Rolling Steel Tent. Chet packed a bag and said, "I'm not allowed to tell you where I'm going or how long I'll be gone." That was more than a year ago.

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  3. Chester married a señorita in San Felipe, a pen pal he fell in love with while incarcerated in the old Yuma prison. I drove him to the border when he got out. Told me he was headed to Botswana to swallow diamonds. Of course who knows, he never said much, if anything at all, ever.

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    Replies
    1. I had heard those things whispered in border cantinas, but I await verification.

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