Planes, trains, and Automobiles!
Nov. 25th, 2004 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_rainetteWhere there are no planes, no trains and, alas, no automobiles either, as things turned out.
Yesterday, I left home at three to pick up the kids at their respective schools, and take Froglet to her Eurythmics class downtown.
On my way to Tadpole's school, I nearly provoked an accident. I was turning left, see, and I had planned enough time to be able to do so safely, even at the unsteady speed of an asthmatic snail, and the truck that was following me would have made it easily too, if I had been driving at normal speed. Only I couldn't. He honked, I roared -- or rather my engine did, very uneffectively --, he rode my bumper, I left the gas pedal long enough for the transmission to catch up, he konked again, I lurched forward, he narrowly avoided being cut in two by another irate driver.
What he didn't avoid was a brilliant demonstration of French rudeness (the girls were still at school, I let my baser instincts take over), with a side-order of American sign-language (of the kind that involves one finger only).
Once my heart had slowed down a little, I packed Tadpole into the car and attempted to drive over to Froglet's school. And during that time, pretty little lights started to light up on my dashboard, until the green D (for Drive) started to flash non stop, even when attempting to park or drive backwards.
I gave up then. I am a coward, I know, but I just caved in, called Husband and said I would stay there until he came and met us at the school (implied was the fact that I would call every ten minutes until he left: "Are you at the office yet?" He got it right away though and was on his way within 15 minutes).
He took the car and backed out of the spot I had parked in. "The car's OK", he said, "What's wrong with it?" Well, I wish we could have driven backwards all the time, cos that worked, at least. Forward didn't.
He decided to drive all the way up to the Honda shop, and so we did, alternatively roaring and lurching, and Froglet screamed, and Tadpole giggled, and I swore under my breath, and Husband Concentrated. We arrived safe and sound, but Husband feared that they would close down the car rental (it closes earlier than the shop) and he jumped inside with a cry "get the stuff out of the car!" and was gone.
Get the stuff out of the car? Goodness.
I started with the kids, one kid, two kids, sent on their merry way in the lobby where they started climbing their way up to the ceiling (anything they can climb on, they will). So far so good.
OK, now the rest. Two car seats. One stroller. 2 backpacks. One family-sized multi-coloured umbrella. The kids' favourite CDs (ABBA and Cirque du Soleil. I know). One giant green bag containing Froglet's skating equipment. One white skating helmet.
People were looking at us in growing amazement. What, are they going to spend the night on the couches? Why all the luggage? (We looked a little like a transient, homeless family trying to find a warm spot for the night).
And then, ah! Relief! We had arrived on time. We were given a regular-sized Honda Civic, in a very regular colour too. We got in -- and after driving a van for 4 years, it feels a little like sitting straight on the road, I tell you. The van is so high, compared to the Civic!) Never mind: it had a working transmission. We piled the family in the car. The girls adopted it and dropped a large quantity of crumbs and cheerios on the floor straight away (their way to mark their territory, I'm not complaining, dogs are less elegant). Husband checked the essential vital functions: lights, check. indicators, check. Honk, check. Sounds a bit like the fart of a constipated warthog, but works nevertheless. (Yes, I have been watching Lion King, a lot, how did you guess?) Meanwhile, I was checking the other vital functions. Curtesy mirrors, two, check. Ack, no central lock. Blast. Cos this, you know, is the way I close and open the van, usually: I just press on a button. If it's already closed, and you press the button again, it will honk, telling you in its own language "kind master, your wish has already been fulfilled" (or more probably "yo! Moron! Which part of 'closed already' haven't you understood?"). It is also very useful in a huge parking lot, when you don't remember where you've parked your car, although it induces the occasional coronary in the unsuspecting passer-by (I've seen a guy jump up a good foot just because the innocent-looking, parked and empty van, had just honked at him -- I was on the other side of the street, making sure the van was locked. Ooops.) Anyway, I miss this immensely. *sighs*
So we drove home. We had a long, complicated night, where Tadpole peed in her bed and threw up in ours (no, you do not want the details, trust me).
And the next morning, it had snowed a little, and the car was covered in ice.
And the little thing I use to scratch the ice off the car? Is in the van back at the honda shop.
Someone wake me up when the winter is over, please, I'm going to hibernate in the meanwhile. That will be all.
but I still love y'all and hope you've had a good thanksgiving. I have many things to be thankful for and you guys are one of them. Ooof. am off to bed now.
Yesterday, I left home at three to pick up the kids at their respective schools, and take Froglet to her Eurythmics class downtown.
On my way to Tadpole's school, I nearly provoked an accident. I was turning left, see, and I had planned enough time to be able to do so safely, even at the unsteady speed of an asthmatic snail, and the truck that was following me would have made it easily too, if I had been driving at normal speed. Only I couldn't. He honked, I roared -- or rather my engine did, very uneffectively --, he rode my bumper, I left the gas pedal long enough for the transmission to catch up, he konked again, I lurched forward, he narrowly avoided being cut in two by another irate driver.
What he didn't avoid was a brilliant demonstration of French rudeness (the girls were still at school, I let my baser instincts take over), with a side-order of American sign-language (of the kind that involves one finger only).
Once my heart had slowed down a little, I packed Tadpole into the car and attempted to drive over to Froglet's school. And during that time, pretty little lights started to light up on my dashboard, until the green D (for Drive) started to flash non stop, even when attempting to park or drive backwards.
I gave up then. I am a coward, I know, but I just caved in, called Husband and said I would stay there until he came and met us at the school (implied was the fact that I would call every ten minutes until he left: "Are you at the office yet?" He got it right away though and was on his way within 15 minutes).
He took the car and backed out of the spot I had parked in. "The car's OK", he said, "What's wrong with it?" Well, I wish we could have driven backwards all the time, cos that worked, at least. Forward didn't.
He decided to drive all the way up to the Honda shop, and so we did, alternatively roaring and lurching, and Froglet screamed, and Tadpole giggled, and I swore under my breath, and Husband Concentrated. We arrived safe and sound, but Husband feared that they would close down the car rental (it closes earlier than the shop) and he jumped inside with a cry "get the stuff out of the car!" and was gone.
Get the stuff out of the car? Goodness.
I started with the kids, one kid, two kids, sent on their merry way in the lobby where they started climbing their way up to the ceiling (anything they can climb on, they will). So far so good.
OK, now the rest. Two car seats. One stroller. 2 backpacks. One family-sized multi-coloured umbrella. The kids' favourite CDs (ABBA and Cirque du Soleil. I know). One giant green bag containing Froglet's skating equipment. One white skating helmet.
People were looking at us in growing amazement. What, are they going to spend the night on the couches? Why all the luggage? (We looked a little like a transient, homeless family trying to find a warm spot for the night).
And then, ah! Relief! We had arrived on time. We were given a regular-sized Honda Civic, in a very regular colour too. We got in -- and after driving a van for 4 years, it feels a little like sitting straight on the road, I tell you. The van is so high, compared to the Civic!) Never mind: it had a working transmission. We piled the family in the car. The girls adopted it and dropped a large quantity of crumbs and cheerios on the floor straight away (their way to mark their territory, I'm not complaining, dogs are less elegant). Husband checked the essential vital functions: lights, check. indicators, check. Honk, check. Sounds a bit like the fart of a constipated warthog, but works nevertheless. (Yes, I have been watching Lion King, a lot, how did you guess?) Meanwhile, I was checking the other vital functions. Curtesy mirrors, two, check. Ack, no central lock. Blast. Cos this, you know, is the way I close and open the van, usually: I just press on a button. If it's already closed, and you press the button again, it will honk, telling you in its own language "kind master, your wish has already been fulfilled" (or more probably "yo! Moron! Which part of 'closed already' haven't you understood?"). It is also very useful in a huge parking lot, when you don't remember where you've parked your car, although it induces the occasional coronary in the unsuspecting passer-by (I've seen a guy jump up a good foot just because the innocent-looking, parked and empty van, had just honked at him -- I was on the other side of the street, making sure the van was locked. Ooops.) Anyway, I miss this immensely. *sighs*
So we drove home. We had a long, complicated night, where Tadpole peed in her bed and threw up in ours (no, you do not want the details, trust me).
And the next morning, it had snowed a little, and the car was covered in ice.
And the little thing I use to scratch the ice off the car? Is in the van back at the honda shop.
Someone wake me up when the winter is over, please, I'm going to hibernate in the meanwhile. That will be all.
but I still love y'all and hope you've had a good thanksgiving. I have many things to be thankful for and you guys are one of them. Ooof. am off to bed now.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:29 am (UTC)Also, we made you this:
no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 08:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 02:22 pm (UTC)Get up ridiculous early for 6-something flight to see then-GF.
Car coated in enough ice to curl on.
Brilliant idea number one: pour hot water on windshield. Watch various laws of thermodynamics defeat this approach.
Brilliant idea number two: drive, virtually blind, to Village Green Bookstore, at the time the only thing in town crazy enough to be open at 6:30 on TG morning, and ask if they sell ice scrapers.
They don't. But they give me an emergency idea I still hold dear.
Credit cards work very nicely at scraping that thar ice off.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:04 pm (UTC)I wonder if it just moves by itself, and then cackles evilly while I look around in mounting despair before I spot it.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:11 pm (UTC)Yes, the "let's pour hot water approach" is tricky. I remember doing that in Liverpool (where I spent one semester as an exchange student in 1986), when an unexpectedly cold winter froze the water in the pipes inconveniently located outside the house (it never gets that cold, usually). We lived on the second floor, the pipes were on the outside wall; we took turns throwing bucketfuls of hot water onto the pipes from the bathroom window, while the neighbours watched, bemused. And I remember that the temperature inside the old victorian house of draughts was, like, 3 degrees celsius. I don't quite remember how we survived -- I believe we were very young and resistant then. Those were the days. *sighs*
no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 05:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 03:59 am (UTC)::Tries to find post of mine you also responded to, fails:: Of course. Be Friend. BeFriended. Some of my favourite people in LJLand are from TO (90 minutes by car from my current home or 2 1/4 hours from the former one by an unfortunately fettered ferry). Welcome to the madness:)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-27 05:49 pm (UTC)