Its Sunday morning and we need sealant for the freaking generator, but we know all the stores will be closed. We also realize we'll need a new Magic Jack to set up on our computer, since CK's refuses to work for us. Quantum's going to check the local truckstop for the sealant, but he figures he'll probably need to go to Trinidad.
"You want me to come with or stay here?" I ask. I'd very much like to go to Trinidad. I'm hoping to find a thrift store and get a pair of jeans, since running around in skirts is ruining my clothes. Yes, I actually do not own a pair of jeans. Quantum says he wants to make it a very quick trip, and I'd be better off staying here and keeping the dog sane.
He goes toward the truck and CK comes out to find out what's up. They talk, and two minutes later I notice CK going into his trailer and returning with pants on (he usually wears shorts - I think they're actually underwear! - unless he's going out.
Now I'm furious. "What the hell?" I tell Quantum. "You won't let me go to town with you, but you're taking that scumbag?" "I didn't know you wanted to go." "Of course I wanted to go. But I let you make the decision."
Eventually I end up going into town with Quantum. We don't make it to Trinidad, and that's fine. I suggest the Dollar Store (which is amazingly open) and although they don't sell either a Magic Jack or the sealant, a customer tells Quantum that Google has a free version of that which you can just download. Excellent. The truck stop actually does sell the sealant, so we head home.
Quantum patches up the generator, and we wait for the stuff to dry. Meanwhile this is going to be another day where we can't build the damn corral. I so much appreciate T & R taking care of the yaks, but we can't be leaning on them forever with this.
While we wait, we try to figure out this Google Voice thing. Meanwhile our modem keeps heating up and cutting out on us. (The satellite guy says it will do this if we don't have clean current (which we won't have with such long extension cords to power everything.) It's late by the time Quantum finally figures out how to create an account, and jump through the necessary hoops. But here's the kicker. They want phone verification to start up our account. They want to either call us or send us a text message to prove that we're real live people. Now the entire idea of setting up the account is because we don't HAVE a phone. If you're in the city and you have all that stuff this would be a breeze. And if we had it, we wouldn't need this. Quantum decides to let them send us a text message and in the morning he'll go retrieve it.
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