One bite at a Time

After a series of "capital A" Annoyances, we are officially in our new home.

1) The movers didn't estimate correctly so they left all our couches and many tables behind (They thought we could share the leftover space of another Texas bound move.)
2) The transmission on our car went kaput as we travelled...we took an emergency stop in Baton Rouge.
3) Our neighbor called us while we stopped in a dirty motel somewhere...their cat had disappeared. They thought perhaps it had climbed aboard our moving truck. Little did they know, there were 2 moving trucks heading in opposite directions. The 2nd truck went to Grand Rapids to store our extra things till another truck heading to Texas could bring them down here.
4) Our house is wired weirdly. We couldn't make long distance phone calls to tell people we had finally arrived. After hours on the phone and 2 servicemen scratching their heads, they found a single jack in a cabinet on which we could call long distance.
5)The gas man discovered a leak on our line. Also one of the hot water heaters doesn't stay lit.
6) When you run the water from the faucet it smells like rotten eggs. Gag!
7) We protested our property taxes. A cheer for a little tax relief.
8) The plumbers came... now we can take a hot shower in our wing of the house.
9) The telephone guy came back and rewired our jacks.
10) Our pool service guy said our pool has always been a problem child.
11) The car mechanic said the axle is stuck in the transmission and it may break the case when he pulls it out...more money.
12) There are giant cockroaches here. And the mosquitoes have feasted on our flesh.
13) Yesterday I was told, "You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time." A huge transition and unending tasks can be totally overwhelming, I loved this sage advice.
In all things give thanks! And remember to chew that elephant with your mouth shut.

Part 2: The Car Legends are Built On

Life is crazily unpredictable. And we learned it is impossible to judge people by their appearance. A few days before we moved, four police knocked at our door at 2 in the morning. They were looking for my dangerous husband. Yes, the owner of the little red Jetta had assisted a fugitive of justice. And all the police knew was that Ben still owned the car. Well, even bleary eyed from being waken from our peaceful slumber, we knew we had done one thing right. We made a copy of our title of ownership transfer. The police wanted the name of the purchaser. We readily handed over his name and address. In short time, one policeman pulled up a photo of "the purchaser" on his cab car computer. And lo and behold, we had signed the Jetta's title over to a "super felon."

Rewinding to before we listed the car on Craig's List, we had been cautious of the moral fiber of the website's patrons. We even had deleted our listing after five minutes. But due to the overwhelming response to the car's cheap price, we waived our better instincts aside for a little cash for a "rotten tomato" of a car. (Since the car wasn't yellow, it can't truly be considered a lemon.)

And so we unintentionally sold that darn Jetta, that craves notoriety as much as it guzzles oil, to a "super felon." That car has always attracted the law. (I should know since I got my first warning and my first speeding ticket in it.) Humorously at the time of sale, the driver's door was difficult to open so a quick getaway was out of the question. Stowing illegal drugs in the trunk may backfire as the trunk was finicky about opening and preferred to stay locked even with the key in its release button. Our felon will be caught in the car with the goods! And we will have led the police to him.


This bizarre incident was used by God to move my reluctant heart. Of course, me, prone to an exaggerated disposition, thought, "We are going to be murdered in our beds because we snitched on this felon." The Jetta scandal made me more ready to move the many states away and see the sun set on Michigan.

Nothing Sweeter

After shopping to come home and find this on the back door...the single dandelion and the special note...warmed my heart.

5 Years Gone in a Blur

Who's the Big Fish Now?

Yesterday morning while kayaking Ben caught this whopper on his ultra lite. Last night Ben metamorphosed into the Big Fish himself. He graduated from NINE years of medical training. Congratulations, my hard-working Fishician.


Scroll to the bottom of our blog to see our family photo on graduation day.

The Car Legends are Built On

Our faded red Jetta has faded from our lives, but its memory deserves to be held alive. Last week we posted Ben's car on Craig's List for approximately five minutes. Then we proceeded to delete our post...unsure if we really wanted to attract less than desirable characters. Well, as God would have it, that five minute post instantly generated responses. And we sold the red rumbler to a young guy last weekend. A few days later we were driving around town and what do you think we saw? If you were going to say a plain horse and carriage on Mulberry Street, then you love Seuss as much as I.

No, we saw our car with a new decal on the back window and packed with passengers. The fact that we saw the Jetta before we heard it was amazing. I use to wash dishes at the kitchen sink and could hear Ben heading home by the distinct rumble and roar of the muffler in which you could drain pasta. Not that I would use that filthy old muffler for a colander, but it had about that many holes.

The buyer knew that the driver door doesn't open from the inside except by a secret thumb gesture. He saw the exposed wiring by the steering wheel where the plastic casing broke years ago. He saw the dent in the door where a jealous boyfriend punched it in a moment of rage (Thank goodness, it wasn't my boyfriend.) He saw the driver's side mirror pieced together from a Walmart makeup mirror. He saw the decorative keying on the side of the car from our days in G-town. He saw the driving lights are missing like an empty eye socket. And he saw that the VW emblem on the front grill was long gone. (Personally, I think the car was embarrassed by its shabby appearance and it shed the emblem to not bring scorn on its maker.) The buyer saw the car's heart was dark and smelled distinctly of 10W-40. (Hopefully the young man will remember the good doctor's prescription of a quart of oil every 2-3 weeks.) He saw all this and he still bought it.

Mind you, Autozone's stock prices will plummet when that car finally heaves its last breath. But the car has been decrepit for ages now and it continues to run. Who knows but it may outlive us all.