Friday, August 17, 2007


We now actually own the truck, and it's legal for us to drive it. Momma's grandfather has had a little blue Toyota truck for years. He got a deal on it and wanted a truck. I don't know how much he used it, but I used a few times the past few years. Mostly it sat in the driveway unused.

A few months ago he drove it over and handed over the title. He was done storing it, and didn't much want to have it around anymore. His story was that Momma should use it for work.

We haven't been driving it for a couple of reasons, one that we had to get a special form filled out because he didn't charge us anything for it. There was also the tax and title which I hadn't considered, and I guess the wheel tax is in there. And then we kept forgetting to make a point of driving to Kodak to get it done, and they so seldom come into town, and blah blah blah.

Momma won't necessarily being driving it to work too soon because it's a stick shift. I could at any time in the past couple of months helped her learn, but that's a bunch of time we don't want to spend doing that. We could drive to some random church parking lot some random day so she could figure it out, but then we'd have to do something with the boys. Honestly, if we are going to bother getting babysitting, it's going to be for something a little better than a manual transmission

With Big Brother no longer forced by law to sit in a booster seat, the boys and I can now fit in the truck. And for some reason, maybe being old fashioned, I hate to have Momma drive this truck. It's a great truck, only twenty four years old and just over two hundred thousand miles. The rust isn't too bad. There is no power steering. It does run well, but compared to the Honda, it's kind of spartan in a sense.

I should admit that I've already had some battery issues. I drove to the mall to get the tag, stopped back by the house to change the tag, and then set off to the insurance folks, stopping for gas on the way. It was leaving the gas station that the truck suggested that her battery wasn't as happy as it could have been. And then, as I set out to leave the insurance agent, it was dead. Momma rushed away from the homeschool thing she was doing to save me, making her nearly late for work in the process. Our tight fitting schedule got a little something thrown at it.

I drove down the interstate a couple of miles and actually beat Momma home taking the apparently shorter route that we never take. Perhaps that was enough to charge the battery because I didn't have trouble starting the truck again today and made exactly two trips after the ill fated one to give nice insurance lady a check, one to Auto Zone to learn that there wasn't enough power in the battery for their machine to test it. Seems like a good waste of free to me, but I'm sure it was worth the hassle anyway. I could have told the guy the battery was low, but I was hoping his machine could tell me if the battery was at fault or if it was just low. The second trip was for fast food. I was expecting to have to run a final errand tonight, and we really could stand to make a grocery store trip.

We'll end with the off topic bit. The little bit of interstate I drove is our local city bypass. I hate driving on it. It's quicker to a bunch of things that we might sometimes do, but I hate it. I don't know why. I don't mind driving the main interstate, even if I have to go out west, but the bypass? I hate it. I'm absolutely amazed that I beat Momma home. I was right behind her till I veered off to the on ramp. Apparently it's shorter, but I'm not going to start using it, because I hate it.

haha, we got some rain

Last time I went out to smoke it was raining. I actually stepped out the back door just as the first light drops were coming down.

Earlier in the night I'd thought for a moment that I heard thunder. It sounded like it, but thunder was too good to be true and sounded too far anyway.

And then I stepped outside, and stood stupidly for a few moments and the stood stupidly happy for a few moments. I probably looked up at the raindrops coming down.

Then I tucked the local alternative newsweekly under my shoulder, ducked my head and jogged to the garage. My head didn't get less wet for being ducked a little, but I still do it when I run between the house and the garage for a smoke in the rain. The rain was already starting to fall harder, and by the time I finished smoking, it was absolutely pounding down. There was more thunder in the distance, and the smell was summer rain, lightning and dirt. I didn't see lightning, but thunder and lightning go together like living and being alive. Actually, there is a fine line between living and being alive, but that's not the point.

Bonues rain points for coming in the middle of the night so it doesn't just steam the whole place up. Nothing like seeing the steam rising from the ground, almost wishing it hadn't rained in the first place if it was just going to be a bitch about it. It almost makes me want another cigarette sooner than I would just to go back outside.