The Mystery of the Missing Throw-Up

 

The Mystery of the Missing Throw-Up

(Domestic Life on Wheels)

Last night was a rough one for little Oliver (our pup) and me. He wasn’t feeling well, and I couldn’t sleep either. We were up on and off starting at 2:30 a.m., and by 5:30 a.m. we finally gave up on the idea of “rest.”

Oliver threw up twice early on, once on my blanket in bed (lucky me) and again during a short walk. When we came back, I took Keetna out for her morning walk. Upon returning, I headed to the bathroom but soon heard Oliver making that sound again.

All I could think was: Please, let it be on the tile floor!

When I came back into the living room, I scanned the scene like a crime investigator. Nothing on the floor. Nothing on the sofa. I was puzzled.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Keetna lying near the dining room table. My gaze zoomed in. Oh no.

There it was. Throw-up. On her back.

Apparently, she had been lying next to the sofa when Oliver leaned over and… well… shared his troubles with her. Instead of mopping the floor, I ended up giving poor, clueless Keetna an early morning bath. She looked at me the whole time like, What did I do?

RV life is never dull and always an adventure.

Stoic Refelction - The Door Openers

 The Door Openers

(A reflection on teachers, mentors, and the quiet ones who shape us)

I used to think teachers were something you left behind after graduation. Classrooms, chalkboards, credentials—that kind of thing. But I’ve come to understand that my real teachers didn’t always stand at the front of a class. They stood beside me during hardship. They opened books I didn’t know I needed. They asked the questions I was afraid to ask myself. Some never even knew they were teaching me.

The Stoics remind us that every great mind stood on the shoulders of another:

No Plato without Socrates.

No Marcus Aurelius without Rusticus or Epictetus.

No Stoicism at all without Crates—nicknamed the Door Opener in ancient Athens.

That image stays with me. A door opener.

That’s what the best teachers do—they don’t lecture; they invite. They don’t hand out answers; they spark curiosity. They don’t make us feel small; they show us how vast the world really is.

I’ve had many door openers in my life.

A stranger who offered kindness on the road.

A wise friend who held up a mirror with gentleness.

My husband, Ron, who teaches me resilience every single day.

And yes, the Stoics themselves—Marcus, Seneca, Epictetus—men I’ll never meet but who somehow walk this road with me, whispering strength when I forget mine.

But I’ve learned this too: the teacher doesn’t always come knocking. Sometimes, we have to go looking. Zeno sought out Crates. Marcus studied until the end of his life. They didn’t wait to be taught—they chose to keep learning.

I hope I never stop seeking out the door openers.

I hope I never believe I’ve learned enough.

And when I can, I hope I become one.

Elkhart, IN – When Three Are Gathered

 Elkhart, IN – When Three Are Gathered

📍 Worship/Bible Study, Rec Center North End – Sundays, 11:30 AM

On Sunday, I told Ron that I wanted to go to the worship and Bible study session offered right here at the Elkhart Campground. It felt like such a gift — a spiritual gathering just steps from Lucy, no long drive or formal dress code required. We had an early lunch, and I walked over to the Rec Center with an open heart.

The room I entered was simple — just an oval table in a modest space. At one end sat the pastor, and to his left, a woman I had never met. That woman and I turned out to be the entire congregation that day. Three of us, total.

The pastor smiled kindly and explained that we would read four scriptures. After each one, we could either pause to discuss or move along quietly. The service, he said, would last about an hour.

Well… two hours later, we had only made it through two passages, and not a single one of us minded. We talked. We listened. We shared. We laughed. The fellowship around that oval table was one of the most heartfelt and honest I’ve experienced in a long time. We covered scripture, but also life — our struggles, our doubts, and even our hope.

At the beginning, the pastor had expressed sadness that attendance had been so low in recent weeks. But by the end, I think we all felt quite the opposite: full, nourished, and grateful. As we left, we joked that we had just solved all the world’s problems in two hours — not bad for a Sunday afternoon with three people and a Bible.

Sometimes, sacred moments arrive not in numbers, but in presence. And that day, presence was enough.

Elkhart IN - It’s in the Beer

 

Elkhart, IN – It’s in the Beer

Last night, something happened that you would never see in a German household: leftover beer in a stein.

But—my husband is American, so I’ll give him a pass. He often leaves what I teasingly call an Anstandsrecht in his beer stein or bottle—a polite little leftover that, in Germany, would be borderline sacrilegious.

Anyway, I didn’t get around to clearing the glasses before washing dishes, so they sat on the counter overnight.

Now here’s where it gets interesting.

We’ve been battling a small army of tiny black flies these past few days. This morning, as I was assessing the battleground, I noticed two of them floating in my husband’s leftover beer stein.

Apparently, they have excellent taste.

While I refuse to share my beer with pests, my husband seems to have no problem offering them a sip. Generous to a fault.

Prost! 🍻