Tuesday, May 26, 2009

The Secrets that You Keep

My good luck continues. Sometimes luck is merely a matter of perception. My holiday weekend was fun, though there were a few things that could have upset me, were I not able to take them in stride. Lucky!
On Friday, I got reacquainted with the minivan. It just isn't a great idea to try to take a sedan on a mountain road, if you can help it-- particularly the 7 mile road to our cabin. The forest service grates the road once a year, but I'm not sure this has been done yet, because there were plenty of fun potholes. Somehow, I like to hit every puddle, because I think it makes the van look a little tougher. Anyway, other than forgetting to shift on the steering column as opposed to down by my right leg, driving the van came pretty naturally, and I enjoyed it. I did miss the 300's power, and I had to keep on the gas a little more on my way into Santa Fe, but things were pretty copacetic.
Mother, Molly (the dog), Cousin and I did run into a bit of a snag in Espanola when my mother realized she'd forgotten her various prescriptions. We made what was supposed to be a quick detour to Wal-Mart where we were lucky to find the pharmacists to be particularly accommodating. Unfortunately, just because they were accommodating didn't mean they were particularly fast, and we lost about 2 hours. However, we were lucky in that Molly was supremely well-behaved during the trip and didn't complain one bit while we waited.
Later, when we finally pulled up to the cabin, we noticed the rear driver's side tire had sprung a leak. Again, we were lucky that this happened at the end of our trip rather than somewhere on the road. I've changed tires before, but didn't really relish the idea. Another lucky thing: my brother was also at the cabin, and he is the world's most capable man. Seriously, he should get an award because the kid can do anything. The next morning, he waltzed into the family room and told me the tire was fixed. I thought he meant he'd crawled underneath the van and put the spare on. Nope. He patched the tire. Apparently, I'd run over an errant screw-- one very much like the ones used on our deck. But Ben had a kit to patch the tire with, and he had an air compressor to fill it. How awesome is that?
In one bit of bad luck, I was rather disappointed to see that the world's ugliest baby puppet was no longer at the Alamosa antique store I frequent, but happily the clerk called the owner and I was able to make an offer. I'm not sure she'll take $20 for the world's ugliest baby, but que sera sera.
Still, my good fortune continued even when I got pulled over for speeding on the way home yesterday. I wasn't able to talk the police officer out of a ticket (I really think I'm so used to having to push the van harder that I didn't really notice I was going 80 mph until I saw the cop driving toward me, and regrettably, turning around), but I was pleased that the picture on my temp license was pretty and that he only kept me for about 5 minutes. In Bosque Farms, they pull you over for having a crack in your windshield (even one which doesn't obstruct your view) and then they keep you for half an hour at least. And they call for backup, making the scene look like the arrest for a leader of a drug cartel. So I'm relatively poor, but I'm glad for the wake up call (I've known for ages I was a speeding ticket waiting to happen), and grateful the ordeal was quick and nearly painless. I still made it home in about 4 hours, which is pretty good time.
Of course, my weekend was much more than peril and perturbances viewed through rose-colored glasses. Mostly, I was in my creative element. I brought the laptop, but was sad to find out that all the software is available online (cabin=no internet access), so there wasn't much I could do. Not even any word processing! But that was ok. I didn't realize the computer is navy blue, and that was a pleasant surprise. And not writing freed up my time to do other meaningful things, like crafting scores of felt flowers and making more gilded frames for my Mucha prints. I basically took over the dining room table as my own creative domain and got a lot of projects finished.
And then there were the good family times as well. I've got my mom hooked on "Arrested Development" (for those not yet converted, think about a lawyer named "Bob Lablah" and you'll begin to comprehend why I consistently fall off my couch watching this show), and I finished another book in a series about a girl whose brain was transplanted into a model's body. My cousin found the concept intriguing. Zoey was particularly endearing, especially when she left and said, "I-oo" which is Z-speak for "I love you." We found her a great little chair at an antique store in Monte Vista, and she loved it. Jordan was even patient with her when she tried to draw on his Phase 10 cards.
My cousins Garret and Myka were also up for the weekend, and Guggs was entertaining as ever. I laughed and laughed at his impersonation of some of the folks from church, and got a real kick out of his suggestion that we start calling Zoey "Zozobra." Apparently, there's currently a radio spot about natural disaster prevention and general safety featuring Zozobra discussing fire. I couldn't stop laughing as Garret's voice would boom, "And now to our water expert... Llorona!" You really have to be a New Mexican to appreciate the humor in this, but talk about clever on the part of the advertisers. Anyway, Gare got the impression Skye wasn't really into the Zozobra nickname, but I don't see why she'd get bent out of shape. I now generally call Z "Zoser." It's a hazard of having a child, I'd say.
While I should have been more embarrassed about the speeding ticket, my only mildly embarrassing moment came as I awoke Sunday morning. I had to share my room with my cousin. Jordan and I are only three weeks apart in age, and he's always been like a brother to me, but we'd not shared a room for perhaps 15 years. As I blinked in the early-morning sun, Jordan totally made fun of me for talking in my sleep. I know I do this, but I tend to forget as I rarely sleep in the same room with another. It's for this reason I despise sleepovers and even road trips. One of my greatest fears is I'll doze off and then start saying something truly inappropriate for all to hear. Who knows if I narrate all my dreams? Can you imagine even making kissing faces while people you love look on? Most of the time, I'm dreaming up something weird and nondescript, but if I'm having a conversation, it's quite likely I'm saying things out loud. I actually did vaguely remember talking in the middle of the night, and being just coherent enough to realize I was asleep and still trying to carry on a conversation with Jordan. But apparently, Saturday was quite the chatty night. He told me at one point, I woke him up enumerating all my very best qualities. I don't remember dreaming about this, and under what context I'd even say such a thing, but it was a little embarrassing. Still, he snores. So there.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home