and then there was the time that it wouldn't pop down,
and, yes, those are safety pins, don't remove them,
and, you'll need your toolbox to use that.
Oh, and don't forget to put the stabilizers down, and park her at a tilt so she doesn't leak, and don't put your pillow in THAT corner . . . and take good care of her, okay?
Bessy travels with character. And, you have to be a little bit of a character to travel with Bessy.
Our newly-purchased pop-up camper (for our South Dakota trip) was taken on a maiden voyage a few weeks ago. It seems prudent to learn how to use it before taking it for our 1300 mile adventure. And, even better, our friends from whom we purchased it came along to show us the ropes.
As we drove down to a local campsite, Andrew announced that our new camper needed a name. She immediately became part of the family. Without much hesitation, Jay suggested the name “Bessy.”
“Really? Bessy?” I squirmed in my seat.
When we named our first born, we agreed to not use family names for the kids – too much pressure. We weren’t going to have enough children to use everyone’s name, so why use any? And, I thought it might put undo pressure on the child to follow in the footsteps of someone – maintain a legacy that may not even exist.
No family names. Period. Someone would get hurt.
“You want to name the camper after Grandma?” I asked softly. In the background, I heard Andrew already saying that it was the perfect name!!
“Jay, why Bessy?” I continued to squirm. “Why would he pick my father’s mother? What about our three other grandmothers, not to mention the kid’s grandmothers?”
“What an awesome name, Dad! Bessy is a great choice!!” Andrew’s comments continued, and were ringing in my ears. Jay shot me a funny look.
“I’ve always like the name Elizabeth,” he explained (which is true, we couldn’t use it because we have a niece named Eliza, and a grandmother named Bessie), “I just thought Elizabeth was a little formal, Bessy just fit better.”
Andrew continued to repeat his praises . . . what was he saying, exactly?
Finally, I listened. “Mom,” he repeated “Grandma’s name isn’t Bessy, don’t you even know your own mother’s name? (said with that fabulous undertone of – duh – that only a 5 year old can master) Bessy is perfect because it’s the name of the big, old road-laying trailer in the movie Cars. Its big and old and a trailer, just like our Bessy! Its perfect!”
I smiled. “Oh, THAT Bessy, I get it.”
Andrew went on, now requesting middle and last names. John looked at me again. “How about Bessy G?” (G for my mother’s mother). I shook my head laughing.
That is how The Bessy G got her name.
And, in 20 years when everyone has their own story, you can trust that they are all correct.
That is how family lore begins.
Here they are, saying 'goodbye.' That isn't our red car hitched up to Bessy this time.