It was not what I had in mind at all.
Nope.
My day was to begin with carefully planned and executed activity. Ginger, Jared's sitter was to come and keep careful watch over the sleeping prince while I ran the errands that occupy a couple of hours of alternate Fridays in order to manage household affairs and prevent starvation.
I called to make sure Daddy was up so he could go bid his sad farewell to the Cadillac that will no longer be his. The engine blew and it will take more money than the car is worth to replace it and that first estimate of $3,500 samoleons on the repairs they offered was for a USED engine with more miles on it than the current engine has accrued.
Call me stupid, but that did NOT sound like a deal to me and when they "sweetened" the offer by telling me how "little" the price would be to get a brand new one put in, I almost fainted!
There are some really good things you can apply $6,500 bucks to and putting a new engine into an ancient car is not one of them. I think we'll pass. Daddy wasn't so sure, so it took some swift talking and reality checks to make sure he didn't agree to spend the money on something that was like putting a new patch on some old worn out overalls.
So, when the determination was made that the Caddy would NOT be part of the family anymore, we went to Champion Chevrolet's repair bay and gathered up the sad remnants of the items stuffed into the glove box, the pockets, the door side trays and the trunk of the Caddy while hopefully managing to shove into the back the ginormous spare tire that had lain forever in the garage instead of riding around with the car.
Don't ask me to explain THAT logic defying bit of derring-do. The only thing I could get out of Daddy on the issue of why the Cadillac sans spare tire was was that he was "saving gas" by not having it in the trunk. DO WHAT???
The absence of said spare tire would explain why he had to pay over 50 dollars to get JUST a new rim when he wrecked the Caddy and blew out a tire a couple of years ago before we took the keys away. That said nothing for the amount the tire mounting and balancing costs as well... Had he simply been carrying that full-sized spare in its appointed location, he could have simply changed (or had changed FOR him) the tire and been on his merry way and bought a matching rim at the salvage yard for just a few bucks. *SIGH*
There is no way that any imagined gasoline savings made up for the aggravation of not having a spare tire when he needed it or the attendant expense he accrued by doing things in this odd manner. Of course, it does explain some of the earlier symptoms of dementia that we never noticed. Who knows what other quirks we are likely to discover over time?
One little aside here, when I took this aforementioned absolutely nasty spider web coated spare tire from the corner of Daddy's garage and hauled it up into my van for transport to the Chevy place where the Caddy sits, I was not anticipating getting my daily exercise the hard way. The lifting and moving of the tire I expected. Everything else that happened was just a bonus.
After getting all of the personal items, four million umbrellas (don't ask!) and other sundries from the car, I loped around to the van on my sore leg to get the spare out and roll it to the car.
It sounded like a good, solid and reasonable idea at the time.
Too bad, so sad - but it didn't work out that way.
The tire was heaved carefully to the ground. Did I mention it was sloped? The GROUND not the tire... troll! Well, it was. Again... the ground was sloped and not the tire.
After the first bounce and a couple of feet of hand rolling, that crappy mind of its own tire got away from me and in full view of every single man working in the repair bay, the tire just bounced along and rolled away, away, away, with a slightly plump woman running for all she was worth behind it trying to catch it to keep it from rolling out into the middle of highway 72. It was like a slow motion thing with my mind screaming "GO! GO! GO! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, GOOOOOOOOO!" and my legs saying languidly, "HUH? Were YOU talkin' to ME?"
Nice. I'm quite sure they will all be laughing and sharing the hilarious vision of thunder thighs, jiggly belly and the red face of a less than Olympic sprinter in action for years to come.
For the record, I DID indeed manage to catch the cursed tire before it managed to cause an embarrassing and expensive pileup on the highway. It was close, but I did it. MAN ALIVE!! Does my leg hurt now!!
Less than gently, I heaved the now recaptured and evil offending tire up and into the Caddy's trunk. I slammed the trunk lid shut rather violently over the tire's snickering hubcap. Hey, I was there, you weren't and that tire WAS laughing at me. Really!
After a quick pause to collect my lungs, which had apparently fallen out in my race to glory, it was time to finish the fond farewell and go away without looking back. Daddy's weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth was over where the Caddy was concerned and he'd finally made his peace with letting the old girl go to that great junkyard in the sky, so we handed the last sets of car keys over and started to leave. Daddy then informed me that he wanted to go buy a new car and insisted that we drive the lot and let him look.
WHAT? You are gonna get a CAR...??? HELL NO!!!
Uh uh! NO. NO. NO. There will be NO new car. There will be no used car. There will be riding with us girls in OUR cars no matter how mad it makes you, Daddy. Regardless of what the commercials on television say, there is no codicil for dealing with someone who still THINKS he can handle the car, but in reality is a danger to himself and everyone else on the road. I can only imagine how hard it would be to get the keys from Daddy a second time. Likely, there would be violence. I'm sure one of us wouldn't survive, but at this juncture, I'm not allowed to say who would have to die.
After that little adventure, I dropped Daddy and all of his containers of car stuff off at his house. He seems to be okay with everything now. I hope that being okay with this lasts. It truly grieves me to have to keep explaining everything. But I will keep doing it as many times as needed and hope that I am being patient with him while doing so. He patiently explained life to me when I had a need to know, now the situation is simply reversed.
When Daddy got settled into his "trundle chair", I locked up and left him, then went to get groceries and run my OWN errands. Why is it so dang tiring to do what I HAVE to do much less what I'd LIKE or NEED to do?? Totally not fair! I'd like to keep the brains I have now and go back and pick up the body I had in my 20's. Why can't someone figure out how to do that sweet little maneuver? I'd love to have legs that still worked, a body that wasn't wrinkled lined and flabby and the brains my experiences have carved out for me.
Oh well... a girl can dream.
While I was at the Dollar General tooling around the store picking up dog food, v-neck t-shirts, skivvies and some peanut butter, I realized just how much useless stuff is out there that is for sell. Who in the heck needs a glow in the dark cat poop scoop?
Really? Glow in the dark??? Why? Just why...?
I can imagine that people "find" a need for this stuff using all kinds of reasons. You could go broke discovering "needs" that aren't really needs at all. One of those quality finds today was also in the pet section. I was astounded beyond measure. Truly. And that doesn't happen a lot at the Dollar General. They are usually so reasonable...
I never realized my dog needed a purse.
To be sure she IS female and I'm certain it would be quite fetching with her fashionable ensemble of scarves, but how in the name of all that is holy is a dog expected to CARRY a purse??? Her paws are unsuited to carry a clutch and still be able to walk without irritating her arthritis. She lacks the shoulder shape to put a shoulder strap on without leaving her purse dragging the ground and she would frankly look totally ridiculous with a fanny pack on as it would give her "holster hips". And just how is she supposed to work the little zipper to open it up? She doesn't have opposable thumbs. Assuming some dogs NEED purses, isn't this some sort of design flaw?
While I am almost certain that this is a novelty item meant for her collar, why does she actually need a purse? She isn't well known for her shopping skills. I would also imagine that it would bang into her chest when she runs or bounce up and down flopping all around her head, back and neck. So that might be a trifle distracting when she is trying to run the fence line and gobble up the utility company representatives. And what would happen to all of her precious purse items when she wound up biting a hole into the purse when it annoyed her as she ran?
She lacks any sort of actual identification cards, government ID, debit or credit cards or, frankly, even a wallet in which to carry either them or her wads of cash in and, truthfully, if she HAS wads of cash she has been hoarding and holding back from us, I'm gonna be a might peeved. We are family and she should share... but I guess even a fur covered woman has needs and simply can't spare a dime to the family who has raised her up from a pup and given her the run of the house.
Anyway, upon returning home, I discovered all well and Ginger even helped me haul in the groceries. I'm so tired and sore now, I need a three week nap. I won't get one, but it's a nice thought.
As you are out and about the next time and should you happen to glance around and see a tire abandoned alongside the roadway, think of me and my sprinting efforts. Also, should you happen to be out and about and see my dog Gypsy out unattended doing any shopping, check discretely to see just where she keeps all of her cash. I'm thinking she may have some sort of marsupial pouch in which she's hiding her treasure.
June 1, 2012
May 28, 2012
Travel Trouble and other games
I guess I don't know how to do "normal" or at least what passes for normal to regular people. For me, travel adventures is just how it works.
Rick was to bring home the Nissan High-top moving van we rented from Enterprise to carry the belongings of the kids up to Virginia. He got home with it later than I had anticipated. So we had to load it up in the heat and get everything sorted out and stowed while sweating buckets and with me looking at a 4+ hour drive to Knoxville after picking Beth up to be my traveling companion.
I will admit here and now that I am not any kind of logistics genius and could not imagine how all that furniture and all the gifts were going to be fitted into the van, cavernous as it seemed sitting there empty.
Sadly, I didn't manage to get one picture of the loading process or of
the full van. I was in too big a hurry to bug out and head northeast.
But trust me, there was so much crammed into that space, it was amazing!
Oh well. Besides which, with Rick doing the logistics for this event, I was just the manual labor. There is a reason I do not pack the car for road trips and that reason is simply because I have no earthly idea how to fold, bend, stack, massage and cradle the items to all fit into the space - be that space large or small. Along with so many other things, that is just not my gift. I'm beginning to wonder just what IS my gift or if indeed I have one to offer at all... SIGH!
My sole purpose on packing this up was simply to hand Rick whatever he said needed to fit into the next space. Someone has to be told where to go and what to do all the time so other people get to be the leaders. Otherwise they are bossing around thin air and that would just look stupid. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it!!)
The Nissan van was nice. And as an added bonus, it actually handled well and got really good gas mileage, which is something I was praying for and my prayers were indeed answered.
After everything was loaded, secured with straps and prayer and lots of faith and hope, I headed out to Canebrake to pick Beth up for our whirlwind trip.
She was waiting on me at the roundabout down from her house. Wish I'd had my camera out as she was standing there like a hitchhiker. :-D
We got everything stowed, prayed and hit the road. Our destination for Friday night was Knoxville where we had a hotel room waiting for us.
I know where Knoxville is. I've been there several times and even been the driver. But my sense of direction as always is problematic. In my mind, I see it somewhere to the right of Nashville. However, on the map and choosing roads is best left to map readers and GPS units. I had both. I also had a handy little printout of which roads and exits I needed to take.
It is my firm assurance that had I been a pioneer, one of two things would have occurred. After someone else packed my Conestoga wagon, I would have had either divine intervention to guide my path with an infrared trail marked before me only visible to my eyes, or someone who knew the route simply would have told me to follow their wagon. I never would have been more then one wagon length behind.
We drove into the approaching night. Nashville was familiar, we go to the temple in Franklin, Tennessee all the time. However, this time we didn't make the usual turn at that exit, but forged ahead to find the I-40 cutoff to Knoxville. As we were meandering along, Beth informed me that I could take a different route and I panicked thinking I had missed the turn. I am frequently an idiot behind the wheel on long distances... I don't mean to be, and I AM trying to do better, but things don't always make sense to me.
She was merely indicating that there were lots of ways to get to Knoxville. Good thing someone knows where they are going. Should we have a massive power failure in our nation and my ability to download maps and use my GPS unit be compromised, I guess I'll have to depend upon the kindness of strangers (and strange family members - ha ha!) to get me where I need to go.
Wait, that's the game plan already... so never mind.
It was around midnight when we arrived at the hotel after laughing, talking and singing our way to Knoxville. We parked the moving van and extricated our luggage.
Beth got the key cards from the front desk and we proceeded to the elevators after being offered some cold bottles of water by the concierge. We must have looked like we needed them, but I am no fool when cold water is being offered for FREE so we took them. Since my hands were full of luggage items, the only place to stow the bottles was up under my arm by my left boob, which was kind of a stupid thing to do because in short order, my boob was frozen and there wasn't much I could do about it since I lacked a third hand to carry stuff in anyway.
We went to the 2nd floor and hauled our carcasses and our belongings to room 202.
Guess what.
The key card didn't work. We tried it several times, first slowly, then more slowly and then we tried fast and faster and fastest until it finally dawned on us...
We weren't IN room 202.
Since neither of us were wearing glasses and Beth had looked at the little key card pouch in the lobby using the "trombone slide" method of focusing, and, as an added little perk, the envelope was UPSIDE DOWN. Not cool.
Holding the little envelope down again to reach the appropriate visual distance, we discovered the mistake and learned that our room number that had been appearing as 202 was in reality room number 505.
Oops! Yep, happy campers, we were trying to pull a B & E number on someone ELSE'S room!! I do hope that whomever was actually in that room listening to "burglers" tampering with the door wasn't scared so badly they peed their bed... although admittedly that would be funny.
We tramped back down the hallway laughing our heads off and heading toward the elevator that could take us up to the 5th floor. I am, at this point, thoroughly convinced that the two of us can't take a vacation or trip of any kind together like normal people do. Too much crap like this happens to make it normal. Is my lack of direction rubbing off on Beth? She usually is a pretty intelligent sort... until we are together. Nah! That can't be it. We were just TIRED! Yeah, that's the ticket!
Regardless of the idiocy, it is always fun.
Finally arriving at the correct room, the key card miraculously worked just fine. With the exception of catching my elbow on the funny bone with the door (ouch and NOT funny), we were all in good stead for a few hours of blissful sleep, or at least what passes as close to blissful as it is likely to get.
Exhaustion and sweat compelled me to shower before lying down as I am not a fan of being sweaty and trying to sleep. That is just plain nasty and I didn't want to lie down and be uncomfortable already. Beth apparently felt the same way, so once we had both cleaned up, it was time to hit the hay because we had a busy Saturday ahead of us marching onward toward Virginia. The night passed as uneventfully as my nights do here lately.
I sleep when I can and lie there and count my breathing or toss, turn and talk in my sleep. Whomever rooms with me must certainly wish that I'd sleep in the tub. Sadly, our room didn't HAVE a tub... just a shower stall., and I don't like sleeping on the toilet because it leaves a ring around your butt.
Saturday morning arrived with the alarm telling us to get up and get moving. We enjoyed the in-house breakfast offerings and got refueled for the day ahead for both us and the moving van.
We hit the road looking for the I-81 signs that would lead us northeast into Virginia. It was going to be a long day! I was just thankful that the loaded behemoth had air conditioning and a radio which actually worked. Although my van at home alleges to have both of those features, they sadly do not work under any stretch of the imagination. Since the moving van was loaded to the gills, I was expecting the gas mileage to be pretty shabby. But it was great! Fully loaded, it is better than my van at home gets empty. Sadness.
We got onto the right road, thanks entirely to Beth's navigational skills, and headed down the highway. Again, the time was filled with singing, talking, and lots of laughing. I kinda felt bad because all of this frivolity was keeping Beth from doing ANY of her school work and most assuredly was a waste of the time she could have spent making A's in her assignments. The Lord will bless her for keeping me between the ditches on this long weekend trip, of that I am sure.
Nevertheless, and despite her lost study time, I was most happy for her company and companionship on what could have been a worldwide tour to nowhere had I tried to do it alone. Rick would not have been amused. I'm equally sure our bank balance wouldn't have been amused either.
We called Thomas when we got into Roanoke since that's about an hour out of Buena Vista. I figured he would marshal the troops and get some help with the heavy lifting in the interim. When we finally entered the sleepy hamlet of Buena Vista, we meandered along and Beth found the road we needed to turn on to get to the apartments.
She actually saw Thomas waiting for us and I missed the turn to get into the parking area and had to go one street up and turn around. Thank goodness there was an area at the end of the street to do so!
We pulled up in front of their current abode. He had said the apartment was small. It is. Postage stamp small. But it will do. We got started with hugs and kisses, then Thomas and Tianna had a little gift for me. It was a tiny pen-mated Travel Trouble game, complete with the pop-o-matic cube!! I laughed out loud!
Thomas and Tianna wanted me to have a remembrance of the story I had shared with them of the travel sized Trouble game that I had taken on vacation as a child. I was more interested in making noise with the pop-o-matic cube than in the game itself, so when my Daddy had had enough of the pinging and popping and clicking, he reached back, grabbed the toy, zipped down the window and tossed it out somewhere near where Thomas and Tianna are now living in the Shenandoah Valley. That they gave me the toy was both hilarious and a trip down memory lane.
Beth said I should take it to Kari's salon on my return, hide it beneath the smock or a hairdressing cape and proceed to pop, click and ping away on it until she zips it out the window. I had to laugh at that one.
We took the 15 cent tour. Normally, home tours are 25 cents, but they ran out of rooms long before the 25 cents was expended. It really WAS tiny.
How in the heck are we supposed to get a van load of furnishings in here?!?!? Unless this apartment was deceptively like Snoopy's doghouse, we might well be IN the doghouse.
Thomas recruited the faithful and strong Elders who lived downstairs from them. They happily came up, introductions were made and then Col. Franks took charge of the unloading. First order of business was the bed set up. That made sense because unless we did that first, we'd clutter up our own pathway.
When the bedroom pieces were taken in, the bed frame and headboard were assembled to receive them.
The shipping plastic was cut off the new and beautiful bed set pieces and the happy couple had something much nicer than a camping air mattress upon which to lay their heads.
Once the happy newlyweds tried out the bedding, it was time to tote that barge and lift that bale and keep shoving moving boxes into the house. We had to get done because Beth and I had to start back home as soon as possible. Long visits were out of the question and there wasn't any way ANYONE was going to be a guest in their apartment with all that stuff to unpack and organize.
By the time the last giblet was stowed into their apartment, we were starved and coated in sweat. Nothing genteel about it folks, it was pure-D old sweat. All I have to say is that I was so happy to see a familiar dining spot near them! Thank goodness there are Subway restaurants dotting the map!! When you are hungry and hot and butt-sore from sitting in a rumbling moving van for hours and can no longer feel your arms from unpacking said truck, it's nice to see a dining constant where you know the food will be good.
We went, we ate, we conquered.
The newlyweds took food back to their apartment and then we took them shopping for some grocery staple items. Beth and I agreed that we can't let them go hungry while they are still looking for work! Some suffering is good, complete suffering is unconscionable!
When all of the grocery shopping and stowing in the apartment was done, we hugged and kissed and said our goodbyes then hit the road for the trip back to Knoxville. The good news was that we were ahead of the time we'd left Athens by a couple of hours, so we were hoping to get a bit more sleep.
And sleep we did. After cleaning up the sweaty people we had become, we slept like the dead. Or at least Beth did. I slept in snatches as per usual. But sleep was had and that's all that matters. We missed church since the only one in the area with a morning meeting was in the opposite direction of home. We held our own devotional service then had breakfast, hit the road and put a few miles behind us before adding gas to the wonderful moving van.
Once again, our ride was punctuated by laughing, singing and the realization that while we were singing our way through a Boston classic and reminiscing over past lives and past people that I was doing 90 in the moving van. Hauling away to some music and not looking at the speedometer. Not cool on a Memorial Day weekend when the highway patrol were handing out tickets like candy. Fortunately, I managed to slow that buggy down before attracting any unwelcome attention. Sadly, it added to the merriment. Who knew a moving van could have that much get up and go?? Must have been the influence of the dudes on some nice Harley's in front of us... yeah. That was it.
I sang some camp songs and had Beth look at me pretty strangely...then I realized she'd never heard them before. So I "educated" her. I'm quite sure it will not benefit her in any way, shape, or form as she substitute teaches or works as a docent at the Botanical Gardens in future, but the damage was done. Everyone needs to hear "Ghost Chickens" and "Black Socks" at least one time in their lives!
When we finally pulled into Athens and home again, we were beyond tired. I dropped Beth off at her home and then headed toward the Casa Merrill and a shower and my bed.
It was a good trip, a quick trip and I never want to do it again.
Rick was to bring home the Nissan High-top moving van we rented from Enterprise to carry the belongings of the kids up to Virginia. He got home with it later than I had anticipated. So we had to load it up in the heat and get everything sorted out and stowed while sweating buckets and with me looking at a 4+ hour drive to Knoxville after picking Beth up to be my traveling companion.
I will admit here and now that I am not any kind of logistics genius and could not imagine how all that furniture and all the gifts were going to be fitted into the van, cavernous as it seemed sitting there empty.
My sole purpose on packing this up was simply to hand Rick whatever he said needed to fit into the next space. Someone has to be told where to go and what to do all the time so other people get to be the leaders. Otherwise they are bossing around thin air and that would just look stupid. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it!!)
The Nissan van was nice. And as an added bonus, it actually handled well and got really good gas mileage, which is something I was praying for and my prayers were indeed answered.
After everything was loaded, secured with straps and prayer and lots of faith and hope, I headed out to Canebrake to pick Beth up for our whirlwind trip.
She was waiting on me at the roundabout down from her house. Wish I'd had my camera out as she was standing there like a hitchhiker. :-D
We got everything stowed, prayed and hit the road. Our destination for Friday night was Knoxville where we had a hotel room waiting for us.
I know where Knoxville is. I've been there several times and even been the driver. But my sense of direction as always is problematic. In my mind, I see it somewhere to the right of Nashville. However, on the map and choosing roads is best left to map readers and GPS units. I had both. I also had a handy little printout of which roads and exits I needed to take.
It is my firm assurance that had I been a pioneer, one of two things would have occurred. After someone else packed my Conestoga wagon, I would have had either divine intervention to guide my path with an infrared trail marked before me only visible to my eyes, or someone who knew the route simply would have told me to follow their wagon. I never would have been more then one wagon length behind.
We drove into the approaching night. Nashville was familiar, we go to the temple in Franklin, Tennessee all the time. However, this time we didn't make the usual turn at that exit, but forged ahead to find the I-40 cutoff to Knoxville. As we were meandering along, Beth informed me that I could take a different route and I panicked thinking I had missed the turn. I am frequently an idiot behind the wheel on long distances... I don't mean to be, and I AM trying to do better, but things don't always make sense to me.
She was merely indicating that there were lots of ways to get to Knoxville. Good thing someone knows where they are going. Should we have a massive power failure in our nation and my ability to download maps and use my GPS unit be compromised, I guess I'll have to depend upon the kindness of strangers (and strange family members - ha ha!) to get me where I need to go.
Wait, that's the game plan already... so never mind.
It was around midnight when we arrived at the hotel after laughing, talking and singing our way to Knoxville. We parked the moving van and extricated our luggage.
Beth got the key cards from the front desk and we proceeded to the elevators after being offered some cold bottles of water by the concierge. We must have looked like we needed them, but I am no fool when cold water is being offered for FREE so we took them. Since my hands were full of luggage items, the only place to stow the bottles was up under my arm by my left boob, which was kind of a stupid thing to do because in short order, my boob was frozen and there wasn't much I could do about it since I lacked a third hand to carry stuff in anyway.
We went to the 2nd floor and hauled our carcasses and our belongings to room 202.
Guess what.
The key card didn't work. We tried it several times, first slowly, then more slowly and then we tried fast and faster and fastest until it finally dawned on us...
We weren't IN room 202.
Since neither of us were wearing glasses and Beth had looked at the little key card pouch in the lobby using the "trombone slide" method of focusing, and, as an added little perk, the envelope was UPSIDE DOWN. Not cool.
Holding the little envelope down again to reach the appropriate visual distance, we discovered the mistake and learned that our room number that had been appearing as 202 was in reality room number 505.
Oops! Yep, happy campers, we were trying to pull a B & E number on someone ELSE'S room!! I do hope that whomever was actually in that room listening to "burglers" tampering with the door wasn't scared so badly they peed their bed... although admittedly that would be funny.
We tramped back down the hallway laughing our heads off and heading toward the elevator that could take us up to the 5th floor. I am, at this point, thoroughly convinced that the two of us can't take a vacation or trip of any kind together like normal people do. Too much crap like this happens to make it normal. Is my lack of direction rubbing off on Beth? She usually is a pretty intelligent sort... until we are together. Nah! That can't be it. We were just TIRED! Yeah, that's the ticket!
Regardless of the idiocy, it is always fun.
Finally arriving at the correct room, the key card miraculously worked just fine. With the exception of catching my elbow on the funny bone with the door (ouch and NOT funny), we were all in good stead for a few hours of blissful sleep, or at least what passes as close to blissful as it is likely to get.
Exhaustion and sweat compelled me to shower before lying down as I am not a fan of being sweaty and trying to sleep. That is just plain nasty and I didn't want to lie down and be uncomfortable already. Beth apparently felt the same way, so once we had both cleaned up, it was time to hit the hay because we had a busy Saturday ahead of us marching onward toward Virginia. The night passed as uneventfully as my nights do here lately.
I sleep when I can and lie there and count my breathing or toss, turn and talk in my sleep. Whomever rooms with me must certainly wish that I'd sleep in the tub. Sadly, our room didn't HAVE a tub... just a shower stall., and I don't like sleeping on the toilet because it leaves a ring around your butt.
Saturday morning arrived with the alarm telling us to get up and get moving. We enjoyed the in-house breakfast offerings and got refueled for the day ahead for both us and the moving van.
We hit the road looking for the I-81 signs that would lead us northeast into Virginia. It was going to be a long day! I was just thankful that the loaded behemoth had air conditioning and a radio which actually worked. Although my van at home alleges to have both of those features, they sadly do not work under any stretch of the imagination. Since the moving van was loaded to the gills, I was expecting the gas mileage to be pretty shabby. But it was great! Fully loaded, it is better than my van at home gets empty. Sadness.
We got onto the right road, thanks entirely to Beth's navigational skills, and headed down the highway. Again, the time was filled with singing, talking, and lots of laughing. I kinda felt bad because all of this frivolity was keeping Beth from doing ANY of her school work and most assuredly was a waste of the time she could have spent making A's in her assignments. The Lord will bless her for keeping me between the ditches on this long weekend trip, of that I am sure.
Nevertheless, and despite her lost study time, I was most happy for her company and companionship on what could have been a worldwide tour to nowhere had I tried to do it alone. Rick would not have been amused. I'm equally sure our bank balance wouldn't have been amused either.
We called Thomas when we got into Roanoke since that's about an hour out of Buena Vista. I figured he would marshal the troops and get some help with the heavy lifting in the interim. When we finally entered the sleepy hamlet of Buena Vista, we meandered along and Beth found the road we needed to turn on to get to the apartments.
She actually saw Thomas waiting for us and I missed the turn to get into the parking area and had to go one street up and turn around. Thank goodness there was an area at the end of the street to do so!
We pulled up in front of their current abode. He had said the apartment was small. It is. Postage stamp small. But it will do. We got started with hugs and kisses, then Thomas and Tianna had a little gift for me. It was a tiny pen-mated Travel Trouble game, complete with the pop-o-matic cube!! I laughed out loud!
Thomas and Tianna wanted me to have a remembrance of the story I had shared with them of the travel sized Trouble game that I had taken on vacation as a child. I was more interested in making noise with the pop-o-matic cube than in the game itself, so when my Daddy had had enough of the pinging and popping and clicking, he reached back, grabbed the toy, zipped down the window and tossed it out somewhere near where Thomas and Tianna are now living in the Shenandoah Valley. That they gave me the toy was both hilarious and a trip down memory lane.
Beth said I should take it to Kari's salon on my return, hide it beneath the smock or a hairdressing cape and proceed to pop, click and ping away on it until she zips it out the window. I had to laugh at that one.
We took the 15 cent tour. Normally, home tours are 25 cents, but they ran out of rooms long before the 25 cents was expended. It really WAS tiny.
How in the heck are we supposed to get a van load of furnishings in here?!?!? Unless this apartment was deceptively like Snoopy's doghouse, we might well be IN the doghouse.
Thomas recruited the faithful and strong Elders who lived downstairs from them. They happily came up, introductions were made and then Col. Franks took charge of the unloading. First order of business was the bed set up. That made sense because unless we did that first, we'd clutter up our own pathway.
When the bedroom pieces were taken in, the bed frame and headboard were assembled to receive them.
The shipping plastic was cut off the new and beautiful bed set pieces and the happy couple had something much nicer than a camping air mattress upon which to lay their heads.
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| We are dead... or at least an unreasonable facsimile of same. |
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| This is their living room. It has been turned into the dumping ground for every single box and package. |
By the time the last giblet was stowed into their apartment, we were starved and coated in sweat. Nothing genteel about it folks, it was pure-D old sweat. All I have to say is that I was so happy to see a familiar dining spot near them! Thank goodness there are Subway restaurants dotting the map!! When you are hungry and hot and butt-sore from sitting in a rumbling moving van for hours and can no longer feel your arms from unpacking said truck, it's nice to see a dining constant where you know the food will be good.
We went, we ate, we conquered.
The newlyweds took food back to their apartment and then we took them shopping for some grocery staple items. Beth and I agreed that we can't let them go hungry while they are still looking for work! Some suffering is good, complete suffering is unconscionable!
When all of the grocery shopping and stowing in the apartment was done, we hugged and kissed and said our goodbyes then hit the road for the trip back to Knoxville. The good news was that we were ahead of the time we'd left Athens by a couple of hours, so we were hoping to get a bit more sleep.
And sleep we did. After cleaning up the sweaty people we had become, we slept like the dead. Or at least Beth did. I slept in snatches as per usual. But sleep was had and that's all that matters. We missed church since the only one in the area with a morning meeting was in the opposite direction of home. We held our own devotional service then had breakfast, hit the road and put a few miles behind us before adding gas to the wonderful moving van.
Once again, our ride was punctuated by laughing, singing and the realization that while we were singing our way through a Boston classic and reminiscing over past lives and past people that I was doing 90 in the moving van. Hauling away to some music and not looking at the speedometer. Not cool on a Memorial Day weekend when the highway patrol were handing out tickets like candy. Fortunately, I managed to slow that buggy down before attracting any unwelcome attention. Sadly, it added to the merriment. Who knew a moving van could have that much get up and go?? Must have been the influence of the dudes on some nice Harley's in front of us... yeah. That was it.
I sang some camp songs and had Beth look at me pretty strangely...then I realized she'd never heard them before. So I "educated" her. I'm quite sure it will not benefit her in any way, shape, or form as she substitute teaches or works as a docent at the Botanical Gardens in future, but the damage was done. Everyone needs to hear "Ghost Chickens" and "Black Socks" at least one time in their lives!
When we finally pulled into Athens and home again, we were beyond tired. I dropped Beth off at her home and then headed toward the Casa Merrill and a shower and my bed.
It was a good trip, a quick trip and I never want to do it again.
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