Mom car good to go

The Mom car’s A/C has officially been secured in its fully upright and  functioning position.  When we bring it home tonight after church, all the pending services on all our various and sundry vehicles will have been completed, with the minor exception of an oil change on the Honda.  However, I’m pretty sure that since the van had two oil changes in a week, we’re even on that.  = )

Scott has even obtained a “driveaway” license plate for the Mom car, so not only will we all be air-conditioned as we travel cross-country; we’ll all be legal.  Yippee!  I had never even heard of a driveaway license plate, but I guess it is designed for just such a scenario as ours:  where you buy the car in one state but need to drive it to a different state where it will be licensed.

The Motor Vehicle Bureau of the Missouri Department of Revenue ststaes, “A driveaway license plate may not be used on a vehicle used or operated on a highway except for the purpose of transporting vehicles in transit.”  That is exactly what our team will be doing, starting at the ripe hour of 4:00 AM Friday.  

Well-changed

It’s a good thing that Scott doesn’t read this blog.

We finally picked up the van from Ecomony Tire in Ozark, where it did indeed get its major tune-up and fuel injection cleaning.  It was frightfully expensive, but that is because they had to disassemble significant parts of the engine to do both tasks.  We’re really glad they did both chores at once.

Detail-oriented readers may remember that – compliments of our infamous check engine light – these requested services were delayed several times over a couple of weeks AND that we had planned to have Economy Tire do an oil change at the same time.  Well, due to the delays, the oil change became almost 1000 miles overdue, so last week I took the van to Wal-Mart in Branson for the World’s Slowest Oil Change.

Then yesterday afternoon, Jessica and I zipped to Ozark in our stylish 86 Toyota and picked up the van.  This evening, I was recording onto my nifty ACME Excel Vehicle Maintenance Spreadsheet the details of all the work Economy Tire did on the van, and I noticed on the receipt a $28.95 charge for. . . AN OIL CHANGE!

I am officially choosing to view this as ultra-diligence.  It is a sure thing that our van’s oil is VERY well-changed.

You just THOUGHT the plan was complicated

So Saturday afternoon, Scott decided that on Sunday after church we’re going to look at a car to maybe buy for his mom.  He calls the lady, who agrees to have us come look at it after church.

We get there and the car is in good shape.  However, we had already been told that the A/C doesn’t work; that a certain thing on it needs to be replaced for a probable cost of about $300.  So Scott – who had asked me at 11:51 AM Saturday what time the bank (12 minutes away) closes – noon, BTW – and who had somehow gotten to the bank in time to withdraw enough cash to buy the car on Sunday afternoon – offered the lady $300 less than her asking price.  She told him flat out, “No,” and said that she wouldn’t take anything less than her asking price (which she had supposedly – but not really – already dropped from the blue book value), that she KNEW she could sell it, and that she was going to post it on craigslist that afternoon.

Not being one to give up easily, Scott continued negotiating while I went back to the van.  I, being the non-confrontational type, prefer not to witness those kinds of discussions.

When all was said and done, Scott had put down a cash deposit and was driving away in the red, un-airconditioned, 140K mileage, 1993 Toyota Camry.  Which she had given him permission to take to our mechanic at – you guessed it – Economy Tire in Ozark, so that Scott could verify the fact that the A/C really could be fixed for $300.  Which, if it can, Economy will hopefully do sometime this week – while they are simultaneously working on our van all day Monday and changing the Honda’s oil on Tuesday.

We are all really hoping that if Scott buys this “Mom car,” the A/C does indeed get fixed, because we will be driving it cross-country to North Carolina on Friday.  In July.  In extreme heat.  Without license plates.  Because Scott’s not going to license it here.  Because he wants his mom to license it in North Carolina.

I told him that I have a conviction against being the licensed driver on a long-distance, multi-state trip in a car that has no license plates.  (I also hold strong convictions against sweating, but I might be willing to violate those for the sake of my mom-in-law.)  So I told him I wouldn’t drive that car, and he assured me that he had three other drivers.  He also has a scheme for getting plates on the Mom car, but I won’t divulge those details here.

So we drove three cars from the home of the Mom car’s seller, to Fazoli’s for lunch, and on to Ozark.  Scott drove the Mom car with Andrew.  Katie drove her car with Jessica.  Josiah drove the van with me.  Loyal readers may recall that, as per our earlier stated plan, we had yea and verily left the Honda in Ozark on our way to church this morning.  Now we returned to Ozark and dropped off the van.  Scott continued home in the Mom car with Andrew, and Katie chauffeured Jessica, Josiah, and me in her car.

At the house, this presently leaves the White car (with A/C, a.k.a.
Katie’s car), the Red car (without A/C, a.k.a. Jessica’s car), and the Mom car (without A/C or plates).  As it stands now, our revised vehicular plan will be as follows:

1.  Monday morning – Katie drives the White car to work.  Scott drives the Mom car to Ozark, where he leaves it to have its A/C checked out, but not repaired.  (You can’t do repairs on a car you don’t own.)  The van, already in Ozark, gets its full day of repairs done.

2.  Later Monday morning – Assuming the Mom car’s A/C is fixable for $300, Scott contacts the seller and arranges to pay her some remaining dollar amount for the Mom car and obtain its title.  (Not sure how or when, as the seller works during the day and Scott has to be back in Ozark befor 5:00 to get some subset of our vehicles out of hock.)  He then arranges with Economy to have its A/C serviced immediately, and may they have all the necessary parts in stock.

Note that if the Mom car’s A/C is NOT fixable for $300, Scott will have to drive from Springfield back to Ozark in the Honda, leave the Honda in Ozark, and drive the Mom car back to its owner in Springfield.  That would leave Scott walking around Springfield, the van in Ozark, the Honda in Ozark, and me at home with the A/C-less Red car, which I may then need to drive to Springfield to pick up Scott, but we don’t have enough brain cycles left to worry about that right now.

3.  Monday afternoon – Scott drives the Honda back to Ozark, pays for the van’s work, and possibly pays for the Mom car’s A/C work.  He then leaves the Honda in Ozark for its oil change on Tuesday, possibly leaves the Mom car in Ozark for its A/C work on Tuesday (if it hasn’t already been done), and drives  the van home.

4.  Tuesday morning – Katie goes to work in the White car, Jessica goes to work in the Red car, Scott and I stay home and look at each other while the van and possibly the Mom car sit in our driveways and get to know each other.

5.  Wednesday morning – Katie drives the White car to work.  Scott, Jessica (if the Mom car’s still in Ozark), and I all drive together in the van to Ozark.  Scott pays for the Honda’s oil change and the Mom car’s A/C work.  He then drives the Honda on to work in Springfield.  If she has indeed accompanied us, Jessica drives the Mom car home, and whether she’s there or not, I drive the van home.

6.  Thursday – Katie works in Hollister (White), Scott works in Springfield (Honda), and the rest of us try to get everything ready for a road trip.

7.  Thursday evening – We load everything but the cooler and the kitchen sink into and onto the van (and/or the Mom car).

8.  4:00 AM Friday – we begin the journey to our family reunion/Mom’s belated birthday party in North Carolina.  Scott hopes to arrive by 9:00 PM (all times local), but Yours Truly suspects the real deal may be more like 11:00 PM.  She sincerely hopes she’s very, very wrong.

I find it interesting that if this Mom car deal were to work out, Scott and I would find ourselves the temporary owners of not one, not two, but three Toyota Camrys (vintages ‘95, ‘93, and ‘86).  Who’dda thunk?

Marathon to be resumed

Here’s how the next few days look, vehicularly speaking.

1.  Sunday before church – Josiah or I drive the van, while Scott drives the Honda, and we all converge at Economy Tire in Ozark.  We drop the Honda and all go on to church in the van.

2.  Sunday after church – We go to look at a car in Springfield that Scott may want to buy (or help buy) for his mom.   If he buys it, he drives it home and the rest of us travel in the van to Ozark where we’ll make  a brief Wal-Mart stop before going home.  If he doesn’t buy it, we’ll all drive home in the van, stopping at Wal-Mart on the way.

3.  Monday morning – Scott drives the van to Ozark and leaves it there for its much-anticipated, thrice-scheduled, all-day servicing.  He hops in his Honda and goes on to work in Springfield.

4.  Monday evening (before 5:00 PM) – Scott drives the Honda from work back to Ozark, where he leaves it for an oil change that will occur on Tuesday.  He pays the bill for the van servicing and drives the van home.

5.  Tuesday morning – Katie and Jessica go their separate ways to work – some 30 miles apart – in the cars they are accustomed to driving.  Scott works from home.  The van (like the cheese) stands alone in our driveway.

6.  Tuesday night – The Honda sleeps soundly in the Economy Tire parking lot.

7.  Wednesday morning – Katie goes to work in the car she normally drives, while Patty drives Scott to Ozark in the van.  The Honda’s oil change is paid off, Scott drives the Honda to work, and Patty drives the van back home.

Got it?

New requirement for oil change at WM

I have learned that it is no longer possible to get an oil change at Wal-Mart without a cell phone.

Intending to be the first one in line for an oil change on Monday morning, I called on Sunday afternoon to confirm that opening time for the Tire and Lube Express (TLE) would indeed be 7:00 AM.  This was good news, as I needed to be back home by 8:00 AM.  After all, if I arrived at 7:00 AM, and they started the oil change at 7:10, they would surely be done by 7:30 or so, right?

So the van and I arrived at 7:00 AM sharp, and the guy working the TLE counter came over to the locked door and called to me through the glass, “I’m waiting on someone to come with a key.”  Interesting.  Especially since the last time I arrived at the TLE for a 7:00 AM oil change, they had to hunt down someone with a key, too.  I nodded and chose to be patient.

For the next TEN MINUTES I paced back and forth in front of the locked door, watching various Wal-Mart employees wandering around in there, talking, and doing whatever Wal-Mart employees do at 7:00 AM.  I watched the guy at the TLE pick up the phone several times, and I hoped he was asking someone with a key to come and let me in.

My patience exhausted, at 7:15 AM I decided to take matters into my own hands, and I called Wal-Mart on my cell phone.  The very nice lady who answered the phone asked how she could help me.  I explained to her that I had been standing outside the locked TLE door for 15 minutes, and when I asked her if she could find anyone to that might be able to unlock that door, she assured me she could and would.  I thanked her and hung up.

Approximately 30 seconds later, through the glass I heard a page for a manager to unlock the TLE door, and two minutes after that, he showed up and let me in.

Once I was finally in the building, the TLE employees were detained from helping me, because their cash drawers had to be counted.  In slow motion.  I eventually signed off my van for its oil change at 7:25 AM, and it seems that the folks actually doing the oil change move at about the same pace as the gents at the TLE counter.  I did and paid for all my shopping (and it was significant) while carefully listening to hear that my vehicle was ready to be picked up, but sadly that announcement was never made.

I returned to the TLE counter at 8:15 AM, and my oil change was completed at 8:33 AM.  I am REALLY glad this wasn’t one of the “every other” oil changes at which I get the tires rotated, too, as I would surely have missed lunch and been late for supper!

So the moral of the story is to always carry your cell phone to Wal-Mart.

While the customer may always be right, he won’t be permitted to enter the store until he sends an engraved invitation to a very specific manager.  Clearly, there exists only one key to the TLE door, so if the manager who owns that key should happen to call in sick, there would obviously be no oil changes that day.  Maybe the TLE employees would play Tiddly-Winks on the counter until he returned.

Sorry to say that it won’t be continued

The “to be continued” post below won’t be, just because too much time has elapsed and I can’t remember all the details.  Suffice it to say that three of us played MAJOR musical cars over multiple days (involving some 150+ miles all told) with these results:

* It got so confusing trying to figure out who was driving which car where, when, and for what purpose that Scott had to create a color-coded Excel spreadsheet to explain it.  No exaggeration.

* Red’s brakes are fine but its head gasket is leaking significantly (boo hoo); supposedly enough of a leak that the oil running down is quite efficiently cleaning the outside of the engine.  Might as well look at the bright side!  We’re not going to pay to have such major work done on a 23 year old car, so we are heeding the mechanic’s advice to carry oil in the care, check the oil frequently, and add oil as needed.  May it give many more years of faithful service.

* The van’s check engine light was caused by three different “codes firing.”  Note that Walnut Shade Mom actually remembers when cars didn’t have computers and codes didn’t fire. It turns out that one of the codes fired because the van’s computer needed a software  update (oh, GIVE me a break!) and the dealership’s fee for downloading and installing said was $100.  That was above and beyond the basic $109 charge for them to diagnose what the three codes were.   No matter how many codes fire or why they do, it costs $109 just to figure out what’s going on; obviously does including the cost of fixing whatever was wrong.  Anyway, after monitoring the van for two days, they were never able to figure out what the other two codes meant and/or get them to fire again.  Sometime in this lifetime, we will try for a third time to get the van back to Economy Tire in to Ozark to have the tune-up and fuel injection cleaning done.  I’m pretty sure that that will be in our spare time, although I’m not sure what spare time is.  = )

Which car’s in Ozark?

Remember that logic problem about how to get a chicken, a fox, and bag of grain across the river?  Well, I think we can top that.

When you run a used car lot, there are repairs to be done, and as is the case with so many facets of life, they tend to come in multiples.

So the van has been needing a fuel injector cleaning and a tune-up, and it happens now to be due for an oil change.  The first two are a big deal, requiring the van to be left at the shop (in Ozark 20 miles north of here) for “most of a day.”  We waited to have the work done, as per the mechanic’s instruction because the “check engine” light had been coming on intermittently for about a month.  He recommended we wait on the two big services (several hundred dollars) till the “check engine” light was staying on all the time, because then he could diagnose and fix whatever that was while he had everything else torn apart.  Paying to have the engine torn apart once instead of twice sounded good to me.

Fine.  The “check engine” light is now staying on constantly, so we decided to have all that work done today – Monday.

To have the van in Ozark at 8:00 AM on Monday, we decided Jessica would follow me up there in the red Toyota (Red for short, and it has no AC), leaving the house at 7:30 AM.  Then, whenever the van was ready, sometime before 5:00 PM, we’d sweat our way back to Ozark and pick it up.  Yes, we’d both be out an hour and a half of time, but that’s the price we pay to drive used cars.  Scott and Katie both had to work Monday, and Josiah’s not yet legal, so our options were limited.

But Sunday morning, ten minutes before we were to pile into the van to go to church, Scott decided it would be better to take the Red on to Ozark on our way.  (We drive past Ozark to get to church in Springfield.)  That way, on Monday morning, I could just drive the van to Ozark, leave it with its doctors, and drive the Red back home. Okay. I asked Scott who would be driving the Red, and he said “Jessica.”  Had he asked Jessica about this?  “Yes.”

Five minutes later, when Jessica came down, I asked her if her dad had talked to her about her driving the Red to Ozark.  “He mentioned it to me, but I don’t know if I can do it, because I don’t know if I can stay awake.”  Note that Jessica always sleeps in the van on the way to church.  Further note that Katie, Jessica, and Josiah had just (in the White Toyota) driven in Saturday night from an AIM event in St. Louis , arriving home at about 12:20 AM.  They were all horridly sleep-deprived. The 12:20 was actually earlier than anticipated, because they had not gone on into Branson to drop the luggage and gear they were transporting for other members of the AIM team.  They had just come straight home, left all the gear crammed in the White’s trunk, and planned for Katie to take it into the AIM office on Monday when she went to work.

So I told Scott that Jessica was too sleepy to drive the Red to Ozark, and Katie probably was, too.  That would leave only him to drive it.  I said that there was no need at all to take the Red to Ozark, because Jessica and I would just handle it Monday morning, but the idea was firmly embedded in his brain, filed neatly under “Concepts that Cannot Be Dislodged.”

I took my stuff out to the van and got loaded up to leave.  As the various offspring stumbled out of the house and toward the van, I noticed that some of them were putting things and/or themselves into the White.  I asked why.  “Dad’s gonna drive the White to Ozark.”  But I thought he was gonna drive the Red.  It seemed to me that this would be a problem come Monday morning, when Katie would need to drive the White to work.  I mentioned this, but was brushed off.  Scott would drive the White.  Well, fine.  He was in the White with the boys, and I was in the van with the girls.  I pulled out.

A mere mile up the road, one of the girls mentioned something about the stuff in the trunk of the White, and that made me realize that if we did indeed leave the White in Ozark, I would not get home with it before Katie would need to drive it and its trunkload of AIM stuff to work.

Furthermore, we had JUST realized on Thursday (6/25) that the White’s tags would expire the end of the month (Tuesday 6/30).  Katie would HAVE to take it for an inspection on Monday in order to get the tags on Tuesday, and that would not be able to happen if the White were in Ozark.  I reached for my phone to call Scott and give him this glorious news.  In reaching I noticed his phone in the floorboard of the van.  On top of his Bible.  And beside his wallet.  Which contains his driver’s license.

I pulled off at Dunn Road and flagged him down as he came by.  Too indignantly, I admit, I asked WHY he was driving the White instead of the Red.  He asked if his phone was in the van.  I was about to hand it to him, when he said they (the guys) would just park the White there and pile into the van.  And I said, “there’s no point leaving the White only a mile from home.  Let’s just go home and I’ll pick you up there.”  Back at the house, I suggested he just drive the Red as he had earlier said.  And he did.  But on the way to Ozark in the Red, he evidently noticed something amiss with its brakes.

(To Be Continued. . . )

I’m thinking maybe Jiffy Lube

Scott’’s Honda needed an oil change and tire rotation, and since he didn’t have time to go do it, he offered to PAY me to take care of it.  A little mad money is always nice, so I agreed.  In fact, I had already planned to take the van in for the same services on Thursday, and with my Wednesday and Friday mornings already scheduled, the Honda and I chose to visit our local Wal-Mart Tire and Lube Express (TLE) today.

Now, during the couple years that we used the Ozark Wal-Mart, I learned a few things.  The TLE opens at 7:00 AM, and it’s best to arrive there at 6:50.  This virtually guarantees you will be the first in line; hence no wait.   I called last night to confirm that the Branson TLE also opens at 7:00 AM, and I – alone – was there in the parking lot at 6:55.

I should have guessed there’d be issues when the (enormous – belt AND suspenders required) good ole boy couldn’t get the automatic door to open to let me in.  Let’s just say that in Branson, they aren’t nearly as quick and professional as they are in Ozark.  To say the least.  First, it took the G.O.B. five minutes to V-E-R-Y  S-L-O-W-L-Y unwrap each half section of each roll of coins for his cash drawer.  Money finally in place, he picked up the little scanner gun they use to enter your vehicle’s service order and realized that somebody had left it off the charger overnight.  He gradually ambled over toward the computer to key in the information, which I stated clearly and then had to repeat while he made “humorous” comments.  You get the picture.  My car was FINALLY logged into the service queue at 7:20 AM, but even then they couldn’t pull the car into the bay because the bay doors are padlocked overnight, only the manager has a key, and he just didn’t seem to care very much about unlocking it with any great haste this morning.  (Sigh)  I went to do my grocery shopping.

Since I needed the tires rotated too, I knew it would take a while, so I browsed various areas of the store and didn’t hurry.  Finally at about 8:20 AM, they paged me, but it wasn’t the usual “. . . your vehicle is ready in the TLE.”  It was something about “. . . come to the TLE. . . “  which didn’t sound especially promising.  When I got there, G.O.B. asked me where was the key to the locking hubcaps.  Now, how on EARTH should I know THAT?!?!  I didn’t even know the car had locking hubcaps, much less where a key to such would be stored.  G.O.B. informed me that his man had found the key to the locking lug nuts (didn’t know it/they existed, either), but couldn’t find the one for the locking hubcaps which would allow him to get to the locking lug nuts.

I called Scott.  Scott said the key was either in the glove compartment or in the console between the front seats.  I relayed that info to G.O.B.  who told it to “his man,” who replied that he had already thoroughly searched the glove compartment, the console, and the trunk:  no locking hubcap key.  I handed the phone to G.O.B. and let him and Scott work it out – which eventually came to “declining the rotation,” and I paid, loaded my groceries, and left in a car with new oil and all its tires exactly where they had been over an hour ago.

At home it was about 9:00 AM, and things were not going well there, either.  I tried to whip the guys in to shape and then made a major decision.  As it stood, a good part of Tuesday morning was shot.  Wednesday mornings we’re always gone.  Thursday morning I’d be back at Wal-Mart for the van.  The prospect of losing three consecutive mornings was depressing, so I decided to go ahead and completely kill today by doing the van, too.

I collected a library book and my standing file of paperwork to occupy me during the wait and then remembered something.  The van was gone.  Jessica had driven it to work, because on Sunday night, even though she had carefully rolled up the Toyota windows, some armadillo or something rolled them down and left them open all night while it poured down rain.  (We have brazen wildlife like that in Walnut Shade.)  It had then rained lightly off and on all day Monday, so there had been no chance to dry it out.

So the van was 17.5 miles northwest of here.  I called Jessica and told her I wanted to come get it, and she was fine with that.  She also told me that the Toyota was dry (then why hadn’t she driven it?), and it ended up that she was right.  So I drove the Toyota out into the sticks (about midway between Branson and Ozark) and swapped it for the van.  I then called the friendly UPC (I can tell ’cause she’s got the hair to prove it) lady at the Ozark Wal-Mart TLE, who said they could get me right in for the oil change, but then it would be a couple hours wait on the tire rotation.  Given that, I decided (where WAS my brain?) to take it back to Branson.

When G.O.B. saw me walk in his first words were, “the computer’s gone down since you were here,” and his second words were, “you got that key now?”  I told him, no on the locking hubcap key, but that I had brought in a different vehicle for the same treatment.  Now, Wal-Mart without a computer closely resembles a return to the Stone Age.  It took G.O.B. quite a while to figure out how to write up the ticket by hand, and by the time he was done, although I had been the lone customer when I walked in, there were four folks behind me in line.  I was really glad my ticket was ahead of all theirs!

I found  two adjacent benches (they are positioned for elderly men to inhabit while their blue-haired wives shop till they drop) and used them and my shopping cart to sort all my paperwork into four stacks:  Ditch It, File It, Keep It Handy, and Act On It.  Then I went back through the store and picked up a few more odds and ends, including some breakfast munchies.  Next, I wandered back to the TLE, where the computers were still down, there were still four (different? same?) people in line with more coming in the door, my van was sitting outside the bay door (sadly facing in and not out), and my keys were still sitting neatly on top of my ticket, evidently now second in the line of four or five tickets arrayed there.  (Maybe I’d backslid?)  I’d been waiting an hour and a half and they hadn’t started on the oil change yet, much less the tire rotation.  (Sigh)  I guess there was one benefit:  I did get halfway through my library book.

I eventually arrived home at 12:20 PM.  I had spent some five-and-a-half hours dealing with oil and tires on two vehicles.  The day was definitely far spent and I still had to deal with putting away the groceries, organizing the subset of groceries we’d be taking camping, practicing two piano duets, ironing, making a camping cake, chili, creamy cheese potatoes, and chainsaw bars for the camping trip, pushing Andrew through all his chores and schoolwork, printing and highlighting the library lists, planning and cooking tonight’s supper, taking Andrew to and from gymnastics, picking up the comforter from the dry cleaners, and going to the bank.

In hindsight, I just don’ t think I have time in my life for the Branson Wal-Mart’s Tire and Lube “Express.”  Next time, it’s either the Ozark TLE at 7:00 AM, or else this busy mom’ll pay retail plus ten per cent at Jiffy Lube.

Getting it in gear

Tonight Josiah was driving us home from church.  He did a fine job.  We stopped to get gas in Springfield – we seem to do this every Sunday and every Wednesday now, thanks to our Asian (read “miniature”) gas tank, then stopped at the pharmacy drive-thru in Ozark.

We got back on the freeway and headed down into the hills.  Now, as my family will attest, my hearing is not quite what we all wish it were, meaning that I miss a lot when the only sensory input is aural, so when Josiah said, “do you hear that grinding noise?” no, actually I didn’t hear it at all.   But I did glance over at the speedometer, and my eyes did happen upon the tachometer, which was registering a steady roughly 4000 rpm.

This did seem uncommonly high to me.  It usually runs around 2700 rpm when zipping along on the highway, but sometimes, when climbing an exceptionally steep hill, it goes up to 4000 or even 5000 rpm and remains there for up to a half mile, even after cresting the top of the hill.  I guess eight-year-old, 96,000-mile transmissions are allowed to do things like that, so I wasn’t too worried.  Surely it would drop back into a normal range soon.

It did not, and Josiah was alarmed, to say the least.  He kept on commenting about it, which caused Andrew to get anxious, so I had to first reassure Josiah that it was not that big of a deal and that he could just tell Dad about it when we got home (that is what dads are for, isn’t it?) and then reassure Andrew that we weren’t going to have a wreck and that we WOULD get home just fine.    A mom’s direct responsibilities cease only when she’s asleep.

As we worked our way up the steep hill from Busiek, Josiah said, “See, Mom, it’s all the way on the floor and it’s not accelerating at all!  And it’s still over 4000.”  I replied, “Yes, but there’s not one thing we can do about that now.  Just keep driving and let’s get home.”  However, it slowly dawned on me that maybe there WAS something we could do about it.  Maybe, just maybe, the van was in 2 instead of D, and somehow, with all those reams of grey matter between us, we had BOTH failed to notice it!

“Josiah, maybe it’s in second.  Maybe when you took it out of park at the pharmacy, you accidentally shoved the prandle handle too far and it went into second.  Pull into the gas station at Saddlebrook.”

He did.  It was actually in the tranmissional nether region between second and drive (go figure), and it had been there for about 12 miles!

It’s a whole lot easier to drive on the freeway when your vehicle is in drive.  I’ve been told that it’s a whole lot quieter, too.  = )

Downsizing

There are only three cars in our driveways tonight.  Including Katie’s, we now own ONLY four drivable vehicles (plus a pop-up and a canoe trailer).  Today, Scott sold the green van for an amount of money that makes us break even on buying the new van.  He had to play hardball with a deceitful buyer, but he pulled off the deal.  What a skillful used car dealer he is!

We had had the green van since the July before Andrew was born.  That’s ten-and-a-half years.  Wow.