"Sex Lube?!?!" Rosa asked. "You mean like K-Y Jelly?"
"Yep," I said. "It makes for the best waterless shave when you are camping. No razor burn at all."
Rosa and me were discussing my upcoming urban camping experiment and some of the things I needed to bring.
"Where are you going to get your water to drink?"
"From the river," I replied. "I have a water filter."
"Don't come crying to me when you get some kind of funky parasite that grows in your bowels."
I laughed. I have used this same ceramic filter in pond water and muddy puddles many times dying of thirst when I was homeless. I trust it.
"Are you going to come spend the night with me?" I then asked Rosa as we pulled into my driveway this morning.
"I'll do a lot of things for you, but I am not sleeping behind that old cotton mill," Rosa replied, huffily.
I smiled knowing Rosa would say no. She has come a long way from her homeless crack smoking days. Creature comforts are much more to her liking in these latter years.
"I just don't see why you are doing it," Rosa said after we had sat down in my den on the couch.
"To me," I said slowly and clearly, "this is a grand adventure and a lot of fun. I want to test my mettle so to speak."
Rosa sighed as she looked at me warily and lit up another cigarette. I shushed her off to the porch reminding her that we are not to smoke inside my new house.
"I'm staying till your father gets here tonight," Rosa then said, sticking her head beyond the porch door. "I want to make sure you are taking your medications as well."
Sometimes it feels like I have the whole town watching me for signs of crazy about to happen. I tried to assure Rosa that this little planned adventure wasn't a symptom of my mental illness - I don't think.