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TRAVEL: Gas cooking



I’m in a bit of a quandary. I want to put the kettle on, but to do that I’ve got to turn the gas canister on. To do that, I’ve got to go to the back of the van and turn on the tap.


I think I’m going to get someone to create a ‘hole’ or door in the back wardrobe by the shower, so that I can just lift it up and turn it on that way. Just think when it’s raining, or cold, or some other unkind weather condition. I have to go to the back of the van, outside, in order to get a cuppa? No, that really needs to be sorted.


As it is, I’m left with the odd question of, can I leave the gas canister on until I decide to unplug and leave? Only turning it on when I’m stationary? Or do I have to turn it off everytime I’ve finished with the stove?


I really don’t want to find myself not waking up in the morning, simply because I’ve gassed myself

Wouldn’t be such a bad way to go I guess. Nice and easy, in your sleep. In fact, Helen Mirren did a film with much the same theme. I liked that way of dying. She was at peace. But I didn’t like the smoke filled cabin area. Surely, gas would have done it rather than the exhaust fumes? Anyway, what am I thinking of? Suicide?


You never know what’s down the line, or at the end of the road.

Besides, think of how many people I could help, simply by my example, if not my verbal or written teaching. What a waste of life suicide is. You have to be pretty desperate to make that decision. And very brave. And, in an odd kind of way, self-ish, too. Particularly if you have people around you, who love you and who would miss you.


What on earth am I talking about suicide for?


Well, gas started it off. Dying quietly, calmly, in your sleep. Better than dying on a battlefield. That’s a thought, why didn’t the Germans create a gas that was painless and didn’t hurt anyone, just sent them to sleep? That was awful to do that to soldiers in trenches and those poor people in those death camps. As if they didn’t have enough other stuff to contend with.


Oh dear, someone has their radio on. It’s quite loud. It’s been nice and quiet up until now. It’s 8.30am and people are beginning to wake up. One van has already left, the little VW next to me.


I wonder who will be my neighbour tonight.

In hindsight, I really shouldn’t have paid for two nights here. But it’s safe, it’s secluded, I can have a shower and use the toilet facilities easily enough. There’s also a pool table and a table tennis table and somewhere to eat and relax. Kind of like the place that I run at work. Weird that. I just wish the showers at work were better than we’ve got.


When I light the gas, I have to do it with the matches. Thank goodness I bought them! The lighter that he gave me doesn’t work. Either that, or I’m doing it wrong. I bought another one as back up, but that doesn’t work either!


So, matches saved the day.

Food. I have plenty of it. But nothing I really fancy. I guess, in time, I’ll be able to get the stuff that I like, need and want and then my pantry and fridge will become more succinct…


Oh I do wish they would stop that dog from yapping. And it is a yap. Not a hearty bark, like Buddy’s was. It’s a yappy little Jack, probably. Or a Yorkie. Or a Westie. It sounds like one of those. I think perhaps they’ve now put him inside the caravan. It’s more of a muffled yap now. Still irritating, but even so. Better than it was before. The best thing would be for them to teach their little darling not to bark, and only to bark when it’s playing games.


Back to food. Now where was I? Oh yes, I have a multitude of food, all in tins and in cardboard packages.


Don’t really like the cardboard, because you can get all sorts of musty ingredients growing inside them. And tins, you shouldn’t open and leave in the fridge. Once you’ve opened them, you should throw the tin away and store the remaining food in a plastic air tight tub.


Looks like it’s raining outside

I only noticed that when I saw two people walking by with their dog and their hoods up. Then I looked at the windscreen.


Yeap. It’s dribbling down that. At least I was able to get the bird poopies off of the top of the van. Looks decent now. Clean. I hope it clears up by the time mum and my step-father visit.




Author’s Bio:

Kaye is a freelance publisher, author and certified psychotherapist with over three decades of experience. She is also a writer for various blogs about writing, publishing, travelling and health care.


Feel free to visit her BewleyBooks.com site, where you can sign-up to follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, LinkedIn and YouTube.