May 17th, 2007


i'm 40 miles of bad road, a riverbed of potholes

esterday while driving from northern Massachusetts down to New Jersey, Sally decided to protest this long stay away from home. Her "Check Engine" light came on and would not go off. Additionally, she had a significant loss of power on grades. I just thought she needed to have her fuel filter changed, so later that night I decided to do that for her.

But it didn't help.

Dave woke me this morning to say that he had a terrbile time getting over the mountains through the night. We were bound for Missouri. It was then that I knew my old girl was in need of some TLC. I had a choice to make. I could do something by finding a garage there in the mountains of West Virginia. Alternately, I could push her and see if she could make it until I got home on Memorial Day Weekend and risk doing damage to her or having a roadside breakdown. I decided that neither was an acceptable solution. By mere chance, my route to Missouri was taking me through central Kentucky. If I could push her another 200 miles, I could put her in a shop and be home while she had her work done. As I've discovered from various times in the past, breakdowns can inadvertently lead to days sitting in a motel room far away from your friends and family and adding an additional cost to the entire situation. I came to the conclusion that getting to Lexington would be the best bet. I let dispatch know of my intentions and they arranged for a swap with another driver to take my load onward to Missouri.

This was about the time of the morning that welfy is usually waking herself up with a small dosage of LiveJournal, so I found her online and let her know that I would be home tonight. Unfortunately for me, she had other plans she had made. I've told her many times before that should it ever occur that I return home unexpectedly that I didn't expect her to drop whatever plans she might already have just to accomodate me. I got to see her very briefly this evening, while still grimy and greasy from the road. She flitted away around 6:30 with assurances that she would be home early and that, should I still be home, that we will have Friday evening together. But, what is a guy to do when his lady isn't home?

He cooks.

When the going gets tough, the tough make steak and mushrooms. Before you frown on me too much for the white zinfandel on the counter; you should know that I unfortunately didn't have the bottle of chardonnay in the house cold. And yes, it was way too sweet for this meal. I'm debating whether to finish the other half of the bottle sitting here beside me, though. Welf suggested that she might, uhhhh, wake me up in a special way if I'm sleeping when I she gets home. Too much wine might make me unresponsive and that would be a very, very bad thing.
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