Christine II

Right  before my Aunt got sick, she went and bought two new cars.  A regular car to drive around in all year, and a “fun” car that she just wanted to drive around in the summertime in.

A little convertible.  Brand new.  She actually had to special order the car. She had driven the other car for a month or so before the “fun” car was in.  She picked it up, only drove it once before diagnosed with brain cancer.

After diagnosis, she wasn’t allowed to drive again.

Now, various people drove her around in the “fun” car, so she did get to enjoy it some.  She really wanted someone to have it who would have fun with it.

She left the car to my Mom.

Apparently, when my Mom got the car, she told my Dad, “If anyone gets sick in the next 3 months, we are going to go blow the car up somewhere.”

Well, it took longer than three months.

She was talking about the car today.  Talking of selling it, since they technically have four cars, and obviously don’t really need it.  An extra expense for insurance, maintenance, etc.  It makes sense to sell it.  I wish they would wait, as they drive it in the summer a lot, but in many ways, someone will be more apt to buy it in the spring.  (Convertible.)

She brought the car up to my sister, who said she didn’t want it.  I also said that I didn’t want it.

My sister told my Mom that she feels like the car is Christine.

I tend to agree.

Cancer Christine.

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Daisy

Earlier today, my Uncle’s wife posted that their dog Daisy died.  She was fourteen, so she was a pretty old girl.  Some sort of mutt, Daisy was adopted from my Mom’s work all those years ago.  Adopted to my Aunt, and Uncle.  He inherited the dogs when my Aunt passed away.

Often my Aunt and Uncle would drive here from the Chicago area where they lived for a visit, and then take Mack home for a week to visit with them more and spoil her to death.  Much of the time, my parents would head that direction and spend the weekend with them and drive her home.  At the time I was still working retail, and could rarely get weekends off, unless I was actually taking vacation.

So the summer of Daisy, was one of the rare occurences when I did have vacation.  My Aunt and Uncle had decided they wanted Daisy, but decided to have her fixed at my Mom’s work before she came home.  So during the week that Mack was with them, Daisy got fixed, got her shots, and was set to go.  The plan was that Daisy would tag along with me on the road trip to go pick up Mack.

My sister and my soon to be, brother-in-law came with me as well. 

We picked the puppy up and they had given her a dose of some sort of sedative to keep her calm for the five and a half hour road trip.  She was completely konked out. 

We left early that morning, around 7 am,  so that we could get there at a reasonable hour, and still have time to spend with family.

We got about forty-five minutes out-of-town, before my car started freaking out, shaking, smelling like it was on fire, lights flashing, etc.  We pulled to the side of the road.  My BIL popped the hood, smoke poured out. 

We were about two hundred yards from an exit into a po-dunk little town off of I-80.  Carrying our luggage, stuff we didn’t want to leave in the car, and a drugged up puppy we started walking up the highway.  Some farmer stopped in his pick-up and gave us a ride into the town.

I had taken my new car in for an oil change at the dealership where I had purchased it, two days before we left.

They forgot to tighten the oil pan plug all the way when they completed the oil change.  The vibrations of the car driving shook it the rest of the way loose, and it fell out.  All the oil leaked out of the car.  Engine completely destroyed, burnt to a crisp.

We were stuck in po-dunkville until my Dad was able to get off of work, at four o’clock in the afternoon.  So from 8 in the morning, until almost 5, we took turns staying with the dog while others walked to a restaurant, gas station, wherever.

The dealership had to come get my car, and tow it back, I had to pay for the tow, until it was determined that it was indeed their fault and not something I had done to my own car.  Jerks. 

I was so pissed.

They did end up taking care of everything, new engine, paid for the tow, gave me a loaner car after it was determined that it was indeed their fault and not mine.  Although, I am pretty sure that they ran the new engine for my car as if it were a warranty issue and not them screwing up, but at that point, I just wanted my car back.

So dear Daisy, I will never forget you as long as I live, the day I spent hauling your sleepy, drugged, puppy self all over a small hick town in Iowa, not to mention that you were not drugged the following day when we drove my brother-in-law’s car to Chicago and you were crazy and howling the entire five and a half hour car ride.

RIP old girl.

 

 


Slow Reflexes, and No Depth Perception

Let’s talk for a minute about some issues that I have. 

I could never be a policeman, or someone who handled a gun on a regular basis.  I would be dead in a month.  I have two things going against me here.  I have slow reflexes, and I have absolutely no depth perception unless I am right on top of something.

For example in the slow reflexes issue.  I have been playing Song Pop.  I get my ass handed to me nearly every single time.  Part of this is that I will look at the correct answer, and then somehow, I manage to push the button for the wrong answer.  This could be related to impatience as well.  This could also be related to the fact that I am one of those people who loves music, but never really was the type to memorize who sings what song, etc.  My husband on the other hand, is a walking music encyclopedia.

I will continue playing because I do like to play it, except when that douche bag Sheldon W. gives me “Professional Wrestling” as a song category.  I mean really, Sheldon W.?  What the hell is up with that?  Are you soooo desperate to win?

So let’s talk about my lack of depth perception. 

I have really shitty eyes.  Astigmatism in both eyes, extremely far-sighted.  I have worn glasses since I was in the First Grade.  Quit wearing them when I was in High School, and just walked around blind for many years.  Finally started wearing them again shortly after my husband and I got married.  I cannot see without them now.  At all.

The depth perception thing is way worse at night.  I have a bad habit of curb checking, riding the median, or getting to close to cars while driving at nighttime.  This is always particularly bad if my contacts are dry, or I’m tired.  I just avoid it if I can, or make my husband drive.

I have also decided that this depth perception issue is also one of the reasons that I fall down a lot.  Take a naturally ungraceful person such as myself, and add in the fact that she is half blind, and has no depth perception, and you get someone who falls down a lot. 

Is there a cure for slow reflexes?

I doubt it.

A cure for depth perception problems?

I don’t think so.

 


Bloggling Part Six

Several tidbits in Bloggling formation.

  • Mea has conferences tomorrow for the first time since being in First Grade.  I am looking forward to talking to her teacher and seeing how she is doing in class.  I think things seem to be going pretty well, so I hope to hear the same thing.
  • My husband is on his way to a meeting out-of-town tomorrow.  Stupid national conference.  I don’t like it when he’s not home.  At all.
  • Mea is really enjoying the new gym.  I wish they had a “Suggestions Box.”  I would suggest some comfortable furniture for waiting parents, and WiFi.  I would even gladly pay extra to have these two amenities added.  The steel bench makes my ass hurt, and the lack of WiFi makes me stabby.
  • Sometimes, I just really hate people.  Many of them.  Particularly pretentious, “living vicariously through their children” parents.
  • Mack went with me last week to watch Mea at gymnastics, and this week one of the moms asked me if she was my sister.
  • I don’t know if that means I look young, or if it means Mack looks old.
  • There are so many sets of twins in the time slot that Mea has class it is unreal.  There are at least five.  In that hour time slot.  Different classes, but that seems like many multiples.
  • My husband in one of his OCD cleaning fits, threw away all of the pictures I ordered from Mea’s birthday photo shoot.  I had all the big ones out, but all the wallets, and every copy of the proofs that I ordered are gone.  I can order more, but am annoyed.
  • Mea told us last night that she wants to start watching “doctor shows” on TV, because she wants to be a doctor when she grows up.  I can’t think of a single age appropriate doctor show that she could watch.
  • Maybe I can find old episodes of Doogie Howser, MD. on Netflix or something.  Any other thoughts?
  • On Sunday, we are finally going to go watch my Dad use his Father’s Day gift.  We bought him a Rusty Wallace Racing Experience.  As a car guy, he is really excited about it.  I don’t remember if he actually gets to drive the car on the track, or if it’s just a ride along, but either way he is pretty excited.  My sister is going to take pictures.  We are all going out for lunch afterward. 
  • Youngest Step-Daughter was officially put on bed rest yesterday.  Her doctor has been saying that it was coming for a couple of weeks now.  She has had elevated blood pressure, but so far no other signs of pre-eclampsia.  They are watching her closely.  For sure grandchild number 5 will be here within the next three weeks.  They won’t let her go past that, and he is already over seven pounds.

I think that is all.  At least that seems to be all of the nonsense that is coming from my head right now.

 


Wagon

I have had a bug in my bonnet for a new car for quite some time. 

The fact that my six-year-old SUV was starting to fall apart didn’t help matters at all.  My daughter had basically done chin-ups on the passenger side door handle, and had pulled it off and out.  It had been held on with some packing tape for about a month now.  Last winter the four-wheel drive started to do something funny, but since we had a mild winter I put off getting it checked out.

The rear brakes were doing something weird.  The pads needed replaced, but recently started doing this scary shuddering if I was slowing down after going fast.  The front tires needed replaced.  It blew a headlight at least once a month.

I decided I wanted something small.  I started looking at Fiat’s.  Even inquired about them.  No one from that dealership could bother to call me back, or call me period.  After two emails with no reply, I decided that no matter what happened, I would never even look at them again. 

Then I started looking at Mini’s.  We went out and picked one up on Monday night to test drive.  It was SO fun to drive.  It was also only fun to ride in the car if you were the driver.  Mea’s legs couldn’t touch the floor, and were awkwardly bent behind the passenger seat.  My husband had his seat pushed all the way up as far as it would go, knees touching the dash, and Mea still had to straddle his seat.  She is a growing girl. 

This would never do.  And what if I was able to convince both of my daughters and my husband to go somewhere with me?  My nearly six-foot tall daughter would never in a million years fit in that back seat.  Not a chance.

So we drove the Mini home, and started looking online at what we both liked.  Set some appointments to go test driving, and ended up buying the first car I test drove after the Mini.

New Soul

It is almost as fun to drive as the Mini.  It is safe, it is so much more fuel efficient than my old SUV, and I really am having fun so far, I can tell you that I love the Sirius radio, I may never play another CD again.  Mea fits, and an actual adult could sit in the backseat if they needed to comfortably.

One thing that amuses me is this is classified as a wagon.  This is not my Momma’s station wagon.  My parents had several.  A couple of them that had the flip-up seat in the back cargo area.  My sister and I used to love to ride back there and make faces at various drivers.  We may have caused some people to have road rage.  A few times.  At one point we were banned from sitting back there.

As I was cleaning my old car out, I found a match box car that was D’s in my glove box.  I recall putting it in there, and I have seen it here and there over the years as I was getting stuff in or out of my glove box.  I am pretty sure that I took it away because it was thrown at my head while I was driving, at the time I forgot about sticking it in there, but shortly after he went home I found it in there while searching for something.  It has been in there ever since. 

D’s car

It may be weird to keep it, but I have decided that it needs to stay in my new car as well.  It is a little reminder of him that I have with me wherever I go.

 

Updated to add….Is there anything better than that new car smell?  I mean really?  Makes buying a new car worth it at least until it wears off, and your car goes back to just smelling like spoiled juice boxes and cracker crumbs.