The green green grass of home

Grass this green involves rain, and although it wasn't a frog strangler last night with all the lightning I was glad I was not in a tent. The weather was remarkably comfortable, but we seemed to be the only people eating dinner outside. Probably because we were the youngest couple there with the smallest camper. Our nearest neighbor was a spry 81 year old towing a 1986 34' Airstream. He let us know that it was one of the best years because they still had all oak cabinetry. He also told me that his son's high school sweet heart drank 5 rum and cokes one Thanksgiving. While our camper does not have all oak cabinetry, it has a kick ass refrigerator that annihilated our arugula and avocado overnight. Luckily the beer was ok, and the lunchmeat should thaw out in time for lunch.
Watching the fireflies last night I realized how much I miss the girls. I am comforted by the fact that they miss and need us too as evidenced by a text from Sophie, "I dropped my Advair in the litterbox. I washed it really well but what do I do now?" This trip that we planned online, navigated with GPS, and streamed music with Pandora also gives me new found respect for my parents who somehow managed to get our family across this country without cell phones or Internet and for that 81 year old gentleman still trucking along. Those are the folks you want around you after the zombie apocalypse, and the first place I am looting is the nearest RV store.