One Car, Two Car, Old Car, New Car.

Who took a shuttle to Atlanta last Saturday and came home with a new (to us) car? Yep. This guy.

It's a gray Toyota Sequoia and a pretty sweet ride. We have christened it "The General" after the General Grant giant redwood tree in King's Canyon National Park in California (which I dearly hope to see in person some day). We have high hopes that it will live up to the majesty of its namesake.

We've been cruising around town in a thirteen year old teal Dodge Caravan since Tank was born. The front fender is falling off on the driver side, the rear fender has come loose on the passenger's side (and now has a hole in it after being rear-ended last week), the headliner sags horribly, the visors are loose, the windows don't work and the driver's side door panel is coming detached. Oh yeah, and it doesn't have air-conditioning, but if you ever read my blog you probably knew that already since that has been a recurring theme in my complaining writing. Then there's the back driver's side panel that's all dented in from the time a deer ran into my husband. Not the other way around. 

So, anyone want a van? ;) $700 or best offer. It actually runs well mechanically. It's just all the other stuff.

We bought the Dodge from an Ukrainian man about eight years ago when we lived in New York for cash money. It had been stolen from him and later recovered so it has a salvage title. We think the door panel issues may stem from the period of time when it was boosted (If you've ever lived in a big/biggish city or watched Miami Vice then you know what I'm talking about).  Anyway, you get the idea. It was a good car. It was just time to move on. It wasn't you, car. It was us.

So we got this awesome SUV, which isn't perfect and isn't all that new, but is so much nicer than what we've been driving. Plus it has air. (Did I just hear a collective cheer go up from all my friends reading this?) 

It has been really nice driving it the last three days. Until this afternoon when it betrayed me.

I had my three youngest boys at the doctor's office for a scout camp physical and when we went to leave, the key wouldn't turn in the ignition. I tried for several minutes, then with sweat pouring  down my face (because I couldn't roll down the windows) I dialed my husband's office and told him of my plight. By this time I was so sweaty the phone was slipping out of my hand like a wet bar or soap so I had to put it down to try a couple of suggestions he had for me. Nothing worked so we finally decided he would hurry and catch the bus home, pick up the van and come and rescue us. 

In the meantime we had to kill some time. We went to the bookstore for awhile but that is really not that fun with a energetic seven year old and four year old. I decided it was time to leave when I turned around to see Specs standing on a display table. The conversation went something like this:

Me: What are you doing?! Get down from there right now!

Specs: Why Mom? Is it dangerous?

Well, actually it could be. Does your definition of "danger" include "time out"? After pulling him off the table and leaving the store as quickly as possible, I went and tried the car one more time for good measure. Still no luck.

It was now dinner time so I decided food would be a good diversion. There is a deli, Chappy's, right by the bookstore that has great sandwiches (and kids under six eat free--bonus), so we went there. As soon as our drinks arrived one of the boys took the lid off his juice and promptly spilled it. I almost lost it then. I thought I was going to cry. I thought I was going to melt into a blubbering, sweaty mess of self-pity.

But I didn't. Because our food came. Then my handsome husband strode confidently through the doors of the deli and slid into the booth beside us and ordered a root beer and a cheeseburger. 

Enter the Hero.

My hero! I was so glad to see him. He said the car started right up for him and after examining my key and comparing it to his, we determined that my key is just worn out. My mood immediately brightened. I was so happy that he had come to my rescue. We ordered a BLT to go for Stretch who was waiting at home and finished up our food and headed on our way. 

All of this got me thinking about how grateful I am for my husband. He is calm and collected. He is confident without swagger. He is easy-going and agreeable (most of the time). He makes me smile and laugh when I need it. And he has this special talent for making me feel like every little thing is gonna be alright.

Plus, I think he's pretty cute.

"He has this gray hair, premature, and he wouldn't dream of touching it up."  -Miss Birdie

And I am very, very thankful for our new-to-us car as well. Air-conditioning never felt so good.

Today's Poem: Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.