A Tumultuous Tuesday - December 23, 2017
Tuesday started out well. Laur took the car – our 20-year-old AZ Caddie STS – to the garage for an assessment and repairs, and bicycled back to our trailer – in time for our morning swim at 10 am. The plan was that the car would be ready by 5 pm.
Laur loves this old dark green tank. We bought it for $2,000 (US) in 2014 when we bought our 1983 trailer. Almost immediately, we had to sink $1,800 (US) into it. But we had to figure in the cost of buying a new old car. And – did I mention? - Laur loves this old dark green tank.
Why his affection for it? The Caddie reminds him of his favourite car ever – our 2003 Chrysler Intrepid – which he lovingly calls “Me-Car” (and eventually there will be a story about the Intrepid, my Albertan step-father and my Nascar-style driving mother. Maybe next week).
Suffice it to say, the love he still has for the Intrepid, which has been passed down to our kids, has been transferred to the Caddie which he now calls “Me-Cad.”
Every year there is something that goes awry with it. This year, the air conditioning died. Yes, I realize we are only in AZ in late fall, winter, and early spring. But even during these times it can get over 80 F. And when you are coming off a hike and your almost-black car has been sitting in the sun for a few hours. Well… you need AC.
Laur was very careful how he relayed to me what needed to be done and how much it would cost. Every few laps in the pool, he’d tell me a little more. It wasn’t until 40 minutes later - and after I collapsed into the hot tub - that he told me the grand total - $1300 (US.)
I suggested to him that the blue book value of our car was less than the repairs we were about to get. “But Jannie, we have to figure in the cost of buying a new old car.” And – did I mention? - Laur loves this old dark green tank.
*****
After 40 years of marriage, Laur is an expert in brightening my mood. Said he, “How about we WALK to the auto shop when the car is ready and GET TAKE-OUT at the Vietnamese food restaurant?” I was in. But the call to come and get our car never came. Around 4 pm, Laur phoned the repair shop. They were terribly sorry, but the repairs wouldn’t be done until the next day.
Happily, a trailer park neighbour called with an offer of lots of free vegetables. Laur came home with mini tomatoes, corn on the cob, zucchini squashes and eggplants. I gotta tell you, I loath eggplant, but free food is free food. Besides, I liked the other options.
I peeled the eggplants, sliced them, doused ‘em with oil and sea salt, and stuck ‘em in the oven. They sizzled away while I cooked up the rest of the veggies. Half an hour later, I pulled out the eggplants to see how they were doing. They looked dry as desert dust, so I splashed some water on them.
At that point, I heard a “POP”, and then the entire baking dish exploded, and I said, “Oh oh!” Laur is used to things crashing in the kitchen, but not exploding. He came barreling around the corner and looked at the eggplant and glass shrapnel flung from one end of the kitchen to the other.
Laurence is not good at extending sympathy. “Jannie,” he said, “Look at the floor! There is a dint in our new floor!” And there was. Funny how explosions work. I responded, “But as least I’m not injured.” How I managed to escape the flying shards, I do not know.
Laur went and got a box, and the two of us dutifully cleaned up the kitchen – after putting on flip flops to protect our feet. And then… “Jannie, you’re bleeding through your sock onto our new floor. It’s going to stain it.” I guess some of the glass got the top of my foot. I responded, “It will wash off.” And both the floor and my foot were easily cleaned up.
We did not try to salvage the eggplant. I have to tell you that if these had been oven fries, we might very well have. No worries, there was lots of other food. There is always lots of food. I worked in a school kitchen for one year in my early 20s, and never did learn how to scale back recipes.
Tuesday ended well. My foot stopped bleeding, we took the debris to the nim bin, we went for a walk around the trailer park, and we went to bed early – mostly to avoid having another calamity – and to give Laur the opportunity of having visions of cool Me-Cads dancing in his head.
(The “arose such a clatter” we’d already had.)
Laur loves this old dark green tank. We bought it for $2,000 (US) in 2014 when we bought our 1983 trailer. Almost immediately, we had to sink $1,800 (US) into it. But we had to figure in the cost of buying a new old car. And – did I mention? - Laur loves this old dark green tank.
Why his affection for it? The Caddie reminds him of his favourite car ever – our 2003 Chrysler Intrepid – which he lovingly calls “Me-Car” (and eventually there will be a story about the Intrepid, my Albertan step-father and my Nascar-style driving mother. Maybe next week).
Suffice it to say, the love he still has for the Intrepid, which has been passed down to our kids, has been transferred to the Caddie which he now calls “Me-Cad.”
Every year there is something that goes awry with it. This year, the air conditioning died. Yes, I realize we are only in AZ in late fall, winter, and early spring. But even during these times it can get over 80 F. And when you are coming off a hike and your almost-black car has been sitting in the sun for a few hours. Well… you need AC.
Laur was very careful how he relayed to me what needed to be done and how much it would cost. Every few laps in the pool, he’d tell me a little more. It wasn’t until 40 minutes later - and after I collapsed into the hot tub - that he told me the grand total - $1300 (US.)
I suggested to him that the blue book value of our car was less than the repairs we were about to get. “But Jannie, we have to figure in the cost of buying a new old car.” And – did I mention? - Laur loves this old dark green tank.
*****
After 40 years of marriage, Laur is an expert in brightening my mood. Said he, “How about we WALK to the auto shop when the car is ready and GET TAKE-OUT at the Vietnamese food restaurant?” I was in. But the call to come and get our car never came. Around 4 pm, Laur phoned the repair shop. They were terribly sorry, but the repairs wouldn’t be done until the next day.
Happily, a trailer park neighbour called with an offer of lots of free vegetables. Laur came home with mini tomatoes, corn on the cob, zucchini squashes and eggplants. I gotta tell you, I loath eggplant, but free food is free food. Besides, I liked the other options.
I peeled the eggplants, sliced them, doused ‘em with oil and sea salt, and stuck ‘em in the oven. They sizzled away while I cooked up the rest of the veggies. Half an hour later, I pulled out the eggplants to see how they were doing. They looked dry as desert dust, so I splashed some water on them.
At that point, I heard a “POP”, and then the entire baking dish exploded, and I said, “Oh oh!” Laur is used to things crashing in the kitchen, but not exploding. He came barreling around the corner and looked at the eggplant and glass shrapnel flung from one end of the kitchen to the other.
Laurence is not good at extending sympathy. “Jannie,” he said, “Look at the floor! There is a dint in our new floor!” And there was. Funny how explosions work. I responded, “But as least I’m not injured.” How I managed to escape the flying shards, I do not know.
Laur went and got a box, and the two of us dutifully cleaned up the kitchen – after putting on flip flops to protect our feet. And then… “Jannie, you’re bleeding through your sock onto our new floor. It’s going to stain it.” I guess some of the glass got the top of my foot. I responded, “It will wash off.” And both the floor and my foot were easily cleaned up.
We did not try to salvage the eggplant. I have to tell you that if these had been oven fries, we might very well have. No worries, there was lots of other food. There is always lots of food. I worked in a school kitchen for one year in my early 20s, and never did learn how to scale back recipes.
Tuesday ended well. My foot stopped bleeding, we took the debris to the nim bin, we went for a walk around the trailer park, and we went to bed early – mostly to avoid having another calamity – and to give Laur the opportunity of having visions of cool Me-Cads dancing in his head.
(The “arose such a clatter” we’d already had.)