You can’t see the graveyard across the road unless you’re at the entrance gate, but honestly, even that is picturesque. If I weren’t actually looking at it live and in person, I’d think it was a movie set for a film about a bunch of happy ghosts getting up to hilarious hijinks, or maybe a horror film. It’s just that suspiciously perfect.

So this is what nearly beaned me – my father in a champagne box wearing a leather crusher hat. How he would have laughed.

Just when I start to relax and think I have this whole camping thing down, inevitably there’s a hitch. I am not outdoorsy. I’ve tried.

There is no excuse for freeze-dried Denver omelettes.

The Nerd Herd Nomads are lovely. The rooster, on the other hand, is absolutely not.

For the record, it is quite possible to drive a 25 foot cab-over RV like a bat out of hell, though you probably shouldn’t.

RV bathrooms should come with a warning: “May cause daily review of life choices.”

“Yes!” Mom is bouncing with glee. “I’m a whale shark!”

This is serendipitous because my mother is obsessed with the Blue Whale of Catoosa.

I have friends who rhapsodize about camping in the woods or under the stars, the fresh air, the smell of woodsmoke from the fire pit, the coziness of being in a camper, the feeling of freedom from responsibilities. They make it all sound so wonderful.

During the 12 hours or so that it takes for the RV tank to fill, I always scrub the windshield. And yet, no matter how often or how thoroughly I scrub in an attempt to get it clean-ish enough to see the road, a smeary layer of dead insects and bees and butterfly splats just builds up again.

You do know that doesn’t hide the fact that you’re shooting the bird at your own beloved firstborn, right?

Today I discovered that my mother has been carrying a long-term grudge. It all began with a pair of leggings and The Ghost of Accessories Past.

Mom has discovered a technological boon that surpasses even Internet access and video calling. She has discovered that the wild world of online shopping can be accessed by smart phone. The world may not be ready.

My mother is not a Luddite, as she will inform you in no uncertain terms. However, she is occasionally technically challenged.

Every now and then you may encounter a a different kind of truck driver.

It may take some time to work out RV temperature controls.

There’s a certain adrenaline rush that can only be achieved by standing over an unfamiliar propane stove with a wonky igniter.

We wake up in Santa Fe for a blissful day of non-driving and it soon becomes apparent that the dog and I have something else in common.