Leftover Bacon & Bunny Mobsters

January 10
It is still morning. I sat down a bit earlier to write, but as soon as I got settled onto my bed, computer on lap, Ella wandered in. She crawled up next to me, snuggled in and asked where her daddy was. He is shopping for food, I replied, wrapping my arm around her. She was hungry, wanted a bagel and cream cheese, toasted. We don’t have a toaster, so we got up and I pan fried one for her. Without butter this time, just to see how it toasted. It was fine and made less of a mess to clean up. The hard part was not making one for myself after seeing how yummy it looked.

I resisted, ate some leftover bacon instead. Now that is something that certainly does not happen in our house very often. Leftover bacon. Bacon is just not a food that normally survives breakfast. I am not quite sure what happened yesterday to allow this monumental occasion to occur, but I was thankful. I spied the twisted lumps, sitting bare to refrigerator air on a solidified, greasy paper towel and likewise paper plate, waiting for me. When I grabbed the cream cheese for Ella, I captured the bacon before it could get away and popped in in the microwave for a quick 30 seconds. The aroma wafting by my nose helped me not suck up the incredibly lovable toasted bagel fumes coming from the skillet.

Since I already had the cream cheese out, I cut off a chunk and ate its cold creaminess with steaming, crunchy bacon. Mmmm. Does that count as a word? Since I make the rules in the particular endeavor, I deem it so. It was wonderful. And that, my friend, is not quite 300 words, not yet, no, no okay now.

Only 200 more to go. I sent Phil off to the grocery store alone, so that I could supposedly organize a couple of drawers in my clothing cabinet. Which, once I am done here, I will indeed do. I did under-the-bed-stuff last weekend, and it felt great, tossing some things and mopping underneath. I have read that it is not good to have stuff stored under your bed, Feng Shui wise, but in a small rv, you take whatever storage you can scrounge up. But, it does feel better, knowing exactly what is under there and knowing that the dust bunnies have been exiled for the moment.

This place is so dusty. You fill your house with little holes and cracks in the corners and take it down dusty roads and you will see. As soon as you are done dusting, you need to do it again. You definitely need to acclimate to a bit of dustiness when you live on the road, as we do.

Normally, we keep on top of it, because face it, there is not that much to dust. But in the dark places, the low hidden spaces that do not normally see the light of day, it is a different world. Under the sofa, under the bed, the corners behind the plastic drawers used for clothes, dust bunnies multiply and socialize and carry on like little bunny mobsters. It is indeed, a scary thing to uncover.

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