Friday, May 1, 2015


What do you do when your Westy gets a flat?
Her first pancake!
It was so tragic. I swear I had a photo of how it looked before this, note that this is already jacked up off of the rim. It had been sitting in a desolate puddle of angst and woe after a fateful trip to the super bumpy fiesta island over spring break. I'm so tired of apologizing for my bad photography, though! Use your imagination. Geez.


What do you do when your Westy has a flat? You contact Ellie, of course. And Ellie immediately responds with a slew of encouraging and empathetic texts, followed by a 6 page document from her "do it yourself repairs" bible to illustrate just exactly what to do next.

The manual was so great! So helpful! So straightforward and logical and divine. We immediately set to work, just a few weeks later.

The miracle is that we found the jack. and it was the old-timey jack that you just pop into the jack-hole and crank clockwise to lift the ol' girl right off her haunches.

The plan was simple: just unscrew the bolt from the spare tire hidey hole thing to see what we had to work with, then either change the mo-fo or drive to the tire store before replacing the flat.

Houston, we have a problem.

We called Mr. Man. He came, he saw, he conquered.

He was all: "Are you sure you want me to use this jack thing?"
Do your thang, Mr. Man

zoot zoot
We were so happy to find that the spare was in perfect condition and Mr. Man plumped her up with air and we were good to go. We piled right in for a joyride, natch.

You guys all wish you had an Ellie sister, don't you?

You do have AAA though, right?

It was a dark, dark moment when we realized what we'd done. Mr. Man with his friendly disposition and encyclopedic knowledge of all things auto had just signed off on our service call and driven away. And our girl was all "rrrrrRRRRRrrrrrr" but no start. Permission to call granted, sister.

I answered the phone with: "There's a happy ending"

See the thing about Westy is that she is a strapping, unstoppable beast, but sometimes she just doesn't feel like starting.

But sometimes she does...

A while later I was having a happy moment with my boy, and recognizing that those particular moments have been somewhat scarce as of late, I acknowledged my gratitude and thought...

Imma try the westy.

And she started right up.

I tried to honk the horn in celebratory joy, but sometimes westy just doesn't want to honk.

She's always down for a joyride, though.

The joy is palpable!

Aw, Westy.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Take it to the cleaners

If you read last week's post, you know I was in DC for business recently. It's a once-a-year trip to attend/exhibit at the American Academy of Neurology meetings. We hold our annual Editorial Board Meeting during these annual meetings, as many of our Board members are traveling to be there anyway.

This meeting, this once yearly Board meeting, is the only time I feel called to wear a suit for my job.

So every year I dig out one of my very few suits and pack it up for this occasion. Every year at some point after the meetings, I then get said suit cleaned so that it's ready for the next year's meeting.

So, a few weeks ago, when packing up to go to DC, I looked for a suitable suit. I could not find the one I was thinking of, and it eventually dawned on me that it could still be at the cleaners. Hmm, could it be? It'd been quite a long time.

Seeing as the cleaners I go to for this once-a-year occasion is right next to my office, I made it a point to stop by there the next day at lunch.

Low and behold my suit was still at the cleaners. Even though it was ready for pick up...

...on June 30, 2014
The woman at the cleaners made a comment about how surprised she was that they still had the item, and that they'd never contacted me about pick up.

I agreed it was a long time to hold something, and thanked her for not tossing it out.

She then said, "Wait, do you have another item for pick up?"

"I don't think so," I replied.

But I was wrong, there was another item for me, from 2012! from February of 2012!

It was a pair of paisley silk pillowcases that matched a paisley silk quilt that had long since fallen apart -- the delicate fabric no match for the wear and tear that bed rest followed by caring for an infant placed on it.

I'm not sure what the hell I'll do with these, or when they'll ever get used, but rest assured, that if you come to stay and they adorn a bed you sleep on, they're cleaned and pressed and very well preserved.

Monday, April 27, 2015

The Greening of America*

*or at least of New London . . .

Way back in January, we had no idea how bad it was going to get.

Oh, and it got bad.

We got a little snow when our Florida Girl was visiting . . .

Snow! How delightful! How exciting and new!

And then, well, then the snow hit the proverbial fan. Hit it hard.

Lots and lots of snow.

Boatloads of snow.

This isn't our house or yard, but look at that Full Moon, wouldja?

There was just a lot of snow around these parts, for weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks . . .

. . . and weeks.

And then do you know what happened?

The snow started melting. Incrementally, slowly, but melting nevertheless.

And all of a sudden? As if was all just a bad dream?

Grass. The grass emerged and replaced the snow.

Grass that increasingly started greening up.

Just like that.

As if the whole thing was just a bad dream.

I call this one A Man and His Spiral.

And just when you thought it couldn't get any better, with all the grass greening up . . .

VoilĂ ! The Yellowing of America.