The Convertible and the Saw

 Or "What Will Ann Be Talked into Doing Now?"

This event happened in 2005, shortly after I got my new (to me) car.

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The morning started out pleasantly, Tom was going to go up north and camp for a few days, but before he left he wanted to put a bid in on a saw.

He won the saw, and there the adventure begins.

Rather than wait till he got back from camping to get it, he decided there was time to drive to the Chicago area, get the saw, get home and then go up north.

Rather than unhitch the camper from the van - and to save 50 dollars in gas and tolls - he said we could take my car. My new (to me) convertible. His plan was to put the top down, put the base of the saw in the back seat and put the saw in the trunk. He said it would be fine. Said he’d measured the space and it would fit, no problem. Scoffed at my worries that it wouldn't fit - would wreck my seats - we wouldn't be able to get the top back up - it would rain.

We headed out, drove 2 and a half hours, pull up to the seller's house and see . . .

The saw base was bigger than he thought it would be.

After trying several ways to fit it into the car, which required removing a lot of stuff off the saw – and my back seat, he got it to fit . . . if we didn't put the top up.

It was a sunny day, so Tom said it would be fine. Said we could put on sunscreen and be home in a couple hours.

Seven miles north of the Wisconsin state line, it started to rain.  We sat under an overpass for about an hour before it cleared up and we started out again.

In the middle of Milwaukee, in heavy traffic, it started raining . . . heavily.  We found another overpass and sat . . . and sat . . . Tom tried to laugh. I didn't laugh.

After an hour and a half, a visit from the Sheriff, and the fear we'd be there all night, Tom decided to try to turn the saw base. After taking off some wheels, it fit and the top could be put up . . . if the seat we took out could sort of lay on top of the base and poke me in the back of the head. Sure, no problem.

45 minutes later - 45 minutes of hunching forward to avoid whatever metal thing was hitting me in the head, we got home.

It isn't raining here.

Tom has decided to go camping tomorrow.

I won't be going with him.

We're going out to eat tonight.

It's official. And I couldn't be happier.

As of January 11th, 2012, at about 2 pm, my granddaughter, Riley's adoption was official. 

Tom and I were able to be there for the hearing - along with the other grandmas and grandpa - and I'm so glad we were able to share Colleen's, Brian's and Riley's day.  Everything went smoothly and they had the best judge I've ever known (not that I've known many - or any).  He calmly reviewed all the facts and conditions pertaining to the adoption, then came around the bench to hand Riley the gavel so she could bang it to make it official.  After she tried to eat it, Colleen guided her and helped her bang the gavel three times and the deal was sealed.  I admit, I teared up a little then, but I often tear up when watching my baby with her baby.  Before we left, the judge gladly posed with Colleen and Brian (and Riley, of course) for a photo - or 2 or 3 - for posterity.

In one way, this changes nothing. We've all loved Riley and thought of her/treated her as our daughter/granddaughter from the day she was born, and her life will not change one iota.  But I have to say it feels really good, knowing she's now legally Colleen and Brian's child, with Colleen and Brian's last name, and nothing will ever change that.

A good day, a good feeling, and a very good granddaughter.  It was well worth the 3 1/2 year wait!

Smokey and the Car Wash

Some months ago I promised you I'd  relate to you the story of my dog Smokey and our car wash adventure.  This is it. I hope you get a chuckle out of it.....

Smokey and the Car Wash

One day, several winters ago, Smokey and I were in town, running errands. (He likes to go to the bank drive through - they give him biscuits). On the way home, I decided my car could use a washing, so stopped at the car wash.

It never occurred to me to worry about what Smokey would think of it. In fact, I thought he might like it. Uh . . . wrong!

You have to realize here that, although Smokey is a good sized dog - Collie sized - brave he is not! And he's not a "water dog". Also keep in mind we were in my Buick Century. Not a large car. With bucket seats in front. And Smokey was in front, in the passenger seat - sort of (he’s a little big for it).

There was one car inside the car wash and one car ahead of us as I pulled into line. Smokey seemed interested, as he is whenever we do something new. He perked up as I lowered the window and pushed my money into the machine, thinking it might be another bank or McDonalds, I guess, then settled down and watched the car ahead of us.

The door of the car wash opened, steam billowed out into the cold air, the car ahead of me moved ahead, entering the car wash and, as I moved up and the door closed, Smokey saw the wash arms move into position and the underbody wash start up, sending a fine mist onto my car. He flinched then slowly turned to me with a look that clearly said, "No . . . Tell me we are NOT going in there!" and started to shake. I have never seen a dog shake with fear or nerves like Smokey does. His teeth even chatter! And the ultra sonic whining began.

I optimistically told him it would be fine, fun even! But he was having none of it. As the doors opened again and we drove forward he started to drool. The water jets hit the underside of the car . . . he tried to get in my lap. Because of the mass of dog in my face, I didn't quite hit the spot where my tire should go and had to jostle the car a bit getting into the right spot (while trying to put Smokey back in his seat).

The arms came out and began moving around the car . . . Smokey began barking his high pitched "Collie bark" (anyone who's had a Collie probably knows it) and leaped/crawled (over me) into the back seat. Then back into the front (over me again) as they sprayed the front of the car - still barking. But that wasn't the worst of it.

Then the part I like most, the soaping, began. I think it's peaceful – the slight hiss of the soap as it coats the car, making the inside of the car sort of like a warm, dim cocoon (okay, I'm weird). Smokey didn't see the warm cocoon part of it. All he saw was that SOMETHING was keeping him from seeing out! The barking gave way to howling. Full throated, throw-back-your-head-and-let-er-rip howling.  I think my ears started to bleed then, but I was laughing too hard to worry about it!

He decided it was his job to clear away whatever was on the windows and began clawing at the window on his side. As the soap was being rinsed off by then he must have thought it worked, because he came over (into my lap) to my side to do my window. And hit the horn button on the steering wheel. Which scared him. And made him start barking again.

Finally (after the longest car wash I've ever been in) the exit door opened and, after a brief spell in the dryer's wind jets, in which he crawled onto the floor of the car and whimpered – thinking, I suppose, it was a tornado, we went home - my ears still ringing and the poor dog traumatized for life!

New year, new post, new chance to improve

First, a belated paragraph or two about Christmas.  It was the best I've known in years, and our granddaughter Riley made it so!  From the obligatory picture with Santa the week before Christmas, to opening her gifts on Christmas Eve day, Riley charmed everyone who saw her.  She was definitely the highlight of the season - at least for me she was.  I don't know what we did for holiday fun before she entered our lives (was that only last year?).  I think, if at all possible, everyone should find a child to celebrate Christmas with!

Now, to the new year. I don't make resolutions. I have failed and kicked myself for those failures too many times to make anything like a resolution.  What I do make are . . . hopes . . . aspirations . . . good intentions.  Those are easier to make and I don't feel so bad if I don't quite live up to those goals.
As I said in the title, I do hope to improve this year.  I'd like that improvement to include some weight loss, but if it isn't to be, just keeping my health, eyesight, and teeth as they are would be okay, too.  And not losing what often diminished feeling mental ability I have going would be nice, too.
To that end, I'm keeping the appointments I've got and making new ones as needed, as well as working crosswords, playing trivia games, and other online games that take some thinking. And, I've been told, writing a blog will help, so here I am.  I hope all these games and writing help my mind, but if not, hey, I'm having fun and it's a reason to be on the computer. ("No, I'm not wasting time, I'm improving my mind! Really I am! Can I help it if it took all day?")

I guess at this point in my life, I'm adhering more and more to the old adage of changing what I can, and accepting the things I can't change, as hard as I sometimes find that to do.  But, calling up another favorite saying, I'll also always keep marching to the beat of the drummer I hear - even if I'm the only one in the parade. Life wouldn't be worth living if I didn't!

My dashboard snowman

I have a little snowman on the dashboard of my car. He doesn't reside there all year, just November through February or March (depending on March's weather).  I found him at a long ago rummage sale and had to get him. He's just a little, unassuming, white terry cloth snowman, three balls high and filled with beanbag type stuff.  Pipe cleaner arms, cloves for buttons, teeny black dots of some sort for eyes and a teeny carrot-looking thing for a nose - no mouth - wearing a faded little scarf.  Nothing much to look at.  . . . But he's magic!

Every November I put him on my car's dashboard, on top of a square of grippy stuff (that no-slide rubbery stuff you sometimes see in cupboards).  I set him securely upright, facing the inside of the car, looking ahead, between the front seats.
But he moves!  All by himself!  After a few trips in my car, I'll look over at him and there he is . . . staring at me!  And he's usually leaning forward toward me, too!  This year, though, he's kind of leaning back, away from me, but he's still got his beady little eyes on me!  I want to say "What?? I'm not driving that badly!", (and, okay, I often do).  If I put him back in his original position, within days, he's back to staring at me again!

I think if I put him facing the windshield, he'd somehow manage to turn around and look at me over his little snowman shoulder!

First Snow

My town got its first measurable snow yesterday and today. Depending on where you were in town, you got between a couple inches to only a dusting that is already gone as I write this.  My street got the dusting.

I remember first snows of my childhood. Why were those snows so much better, so much more magical than the snow I had to go out in to run some errands in this morning?  Where were the big, fluffy flakes, lazily floating down from .... who knew where?  Where was the snow I couldn't wait to get out in, to catch on my tongue and feel kiss my eyelids?  What was so different about the snow of my morning today? I would no more have thought of catching this snow on my tongue than I would have thought of licking it off my car (something, by the way, I've never done).  Did the snow change? Or did I? And how rather sad and disheartening it is to think that it is me that has changed.  Me that has lost the ability to see the magic and charm of a first snow, thinking instead of whether I should put warmer blankets on the bed and if I really needed to run these errands.

Maybe I should start by buying myself a silly, childlike hat. Something whimsical to wear when my inner child needs to be shaken awake. Maybe then I'll feel like going out to catch a flake or two on my eyelids and tongue.  Maybe I will.  Maybe on the second snow of the season.  . . . In the back yard.

Stray thoughts about books

The Disclaimer: These opinions and ramblings are my own, so take them with as many grains of salt as you like.

I don't go out of my way to read them, but some of the most fun books I've read are geared toward young adults.  I just picked one up today that sounded good, and when I looked at the library's spine info, there it was, "YA".  All the Harry Potter books were, I believe, for younger readers and probably the Twilight books as well - although that series wasn't my favorite. Belle annoyed the heck out of me. So did Edward, for that matter.

Of course, I've read some fantastic books geared for older readers, too. One can't live on Oreo cookies and milk all the time (huh??), and I probably read more of the older-geared genre than younger.  But for a quick read that moves right along (young adults must bore easily), it's hard to beat a good Young Adult book.

I like series books.  I like getting to know the main characters and all their quirks as the books go on, and love catching references to previous books in the series (which is why I read them in order whenever possible).   The Sookie Stackhouse series, by Charlaine Harris is nice, racy fun, and Kate White's Bailey Weggins books are also excellent; fun, kind of sexy murder mysteries that never give away "whodunit" until the very end (at least I never know).  Also, in case you're interested, the Kathleen Mallory series, by Carol O'Connell is very good.

And, finally, here are some other authors I have found to write very good books, whether horror, fantasy, mystery or more serious subjects:  Stephen King; Dean Koontz; Robert McCammon; Neil Gaiman; Frank Delany and Mary Ellis, who wrote the not-to-be-missed, The Turtle Warrior, a book that moved me to tears many times, and has stayed with me for many years.