Goodbye ol' girl

So after being dropped of by the CHP,

Hey, remember these guys?

my neighbor drove me to get my girl. Upon arrival at home, with girl in tow, I promptly opened up a bottle of red. (Remember, the nice CHP officer instructed me to do so.)

She also told me to take a hot bath, which I did immediately after reporting the accident to my insurance company, wine glass in hand. I had a glass or two more, and then called it a day, visions of mangled metal dancing in my head.

The next day was a whirlwind of AAA efficiency. Everything has happened incredibly fast, and people were and continue to be amazingly helpful. The moment of impact was 4:20 pm on Tuesday, and by that time on Wednesday, I had been picked up by Enterprise, then shortly after drove off in one of their safe minivans for just a few dollars a day out of pocket, AND got the call that they'd already made it out to the tow yard to assess my car. It was deemed 'a total loss.'

Yes, I had hoped for this. How depressing would have it have been to have thousands spent on fixing my already decade-plus old car? Quite. I have been wanting to get something new. And I was relieved and happy with the ballpark figure she quoted me.

But sheesh, I needed to get over to the tow yard and get all of my belongings out of the car. Now. They would be dragging the poor ol' girl out of there the next day.

I found the fenced off tow yard plastered with BEWARE OF DOGS signs in the corner of a giant parking lot -- the set up broken-down and menacing. I approached the walk-up window and let them know why I was there. They told me where I could find the car and opened up the giant rolling gate.

In a word? Emotional. I was really sad when I saw my bashed in car. It looked so pathetic sitting in the far left corner of the fenced in lot, all alone. With the sun going down.

Look at her poor light, still attached but just dragging on the ground. Aw.

I know what you're thinking, not that bad, right? It really isn't. I was really lucky.

So, there I was all melancholy and nostalgic, which made my job of getting any- and everything I wanted out of the wreck a little daunting and depressing and strange. I found everything from tiny American Girl spectacles, to jumper cables that have been 'missing' for years, to two additional yoga mats, to children's drawings.

The process took a good 15 minutes, during which time I managed to step in those damn DOGS' shit not one time, but twice. (Talk about  a shitty job!) I piled it all up in a box, a giant IKEA bag, and the car seat, and half dragged it all to the rolling gate.

I took one last look at my Jeep, my car since before I had kids. My car since 2001. That car had been with me through a LOT of changes: one baby, two baby, divorce, 5 places of residence, re-marriage, another baby.

Wow.

It's a good time to move on. I know that. But still, my Jeep was familiar, and paid for, and mine. And, now, well, now I have to face the music and buy a new/used/leased car. Something I am thoroughly dreading.

Could I really be a minivan mom?

XXXIII

This past weekend was Hygienic XXXIII -- the 33rd installment of the world's coolest, funnest and most eclectic art show-and-music extravaganza.

It's hard to decide what the best art of the weekend is -- the six-hour Rock Fix Saturday night, the energy coursing through our little town, when everyone is walking around out and about having themselves a Time, MB and The Dowd up for the weekend, which is always pure delight, especially when The Dowd gets on a roll, which he did, our delightful pre-show dinner . . . or the Art Show.

You know the rules: one piece per artist, no judge, no jury, no fees and no censorship. Each artist hangs his or her own piece between 8 a.m. and 6 p.m., and the show starts at 8 p.m.

That makes for one fun-loving Art Show, people.

Let's have a look at it, through the (relatively) sober eyes of Sunday, without the crowds, shall we?

Well, look who we have to greet us on this lovely afternoon. 
An air-guitar-playing Dowd. 

. . . and his lovely MB. Who is very pleased about her mint.

The inimitable Dorothy L. Hall's piece -- I believe not a year has gone by, in 33,  without an entry from our talented friend. Who I'm proud to say was fortified that night by my cooking.

The Whale Tail!

Panda in a Proud Shower.*

*my titles, not the artists'. But hey, they work.

Young Lads Frolicking.

New London is the Whaling City, but it's also the Lobster City.

A smattering.

A smattering with me and The Dowd.

My big sister and me.

Oh, what fun she is. Such a small person. Such big fun.

Found Objects (and a special artpiece for MB).

Either Stidfole or Einstein. Or both.

One of my faves: the Lip Stool.

In addition to a lot of rendering of male appendages (which I'll spare you), the Hygienic is always full of Ledgie Love:

Ledgie and Moonie.

Ledgie, um, adrift at sea.

Ledgie and the Orient Point Ferry and princesses and fairies and rainbows.

Wait, what's that one? That everyone seems so enamored of?

Aw, it's Ledgie in a Glass, by our own Mistah Schlekah.

I don't know. But I love the colors.

Oooh, cool.

It's all just so cool and awesome and so *much*.

Eve and MB.

One of my favorite nooks.

Summer canNOT be far behind.

Carlos' Rio Grande love.

Lots of male appendages, lots of Ledgies, and lots of lobsters.

After soaking in the art what do you think we did? 
I'll give you one guess.

That's right we got a drink. And this being the best January in history, we got to enjoy it outside.

Thanks for the best Hygienic ever, New London . . .

. . . we look ever so forward to seeing what XXXIV will bring.

Weekend 3-Way: Coooooookie

The dreaded weekend

The dreaded new kind Mistah ordered.*

*Savannah Smiles? Has the man never heard of Tagalongs?

Mmmmmm. Jacquie's favorite!

Go outside and get the stink blowed off ya

Alternate title:
Dear Universe,
Please stop coughing on me.
Love,
Jacquie

I posted something on facebook last week about being sick of sick people. And I meant it. But then karma descended swiftly in the form of a cough emanating from the depths of  a certain very cute girl of mine. This cough of hers was relentless, the kind of cough that transcends the distinction between loving mother and evil shrew at breakneck speed: arck arck arck arck arck arck "poor baby".......arck arck arck arck...........is there anything I can get you to make that stop?.......arck arck arck arck arck arck arckarckarck.............."oh my god shut UP"

She missed two days of school, which is like missing two years if you are my girl, just think of all the learning socializing that went on without her! It was nice to be home with her, she's kind of awesome, and it's a rare treat to just sit together without rushing anywhere. I accomplished some tasks around the house that are too boring for your standard weekend list, and she coughed and she coughed and she coughed and then she coughed.

The first day was rainy and bleak, a perfect sick day. The second day was, in a word, stunning. We don't question the weather gods here in San Diego, because doing so will promise torrential downpours upon all your visitors. But still, 80 degrees in January? That's spectacular. We must have done something really good to deserve this. So by the end half of the second day, we were done with the inside view of this pacaloo stand.

We picked up our boy after school, and then we went out into the D. A. Y. Just a few westward miles and parked on the end of the street here:

Recognize this spot from up high?

There's a bench right here. I dare you to find a better bench than this.

The bench sits atop a big set of steps, the steps take you right down to our beloved secret beach

See our little friendly pier over there? love.

The stairs take you to the cliffs, you're on your own getting to the sand

uncertain

Certain

When I told someone at work that I had the kids down at the beach for some fresh air, she told me that her mother would say "Go outside and get the stink blowed off ya!"

requisite mangy dog interlude

Here my boy is shoring up and fluffing the sand for a softer landing surface. He found the work tedious.

If only he had a slave.

Arck arck arck arck arck. Nothing to see here, folks!

You totally can't tell that I missed the shot and made them reenact it, right?

The slave found her own jumping place. She kept jumping into the same set of her own footprints.

No it is NOT your turn, slavedriver!

I'll just block your access....

Oh, dear.

Thanks for not giving me any brothers, mom.

It was a nice interlude. We're so fortunate to have this utopia right around the corner. The sun and the ocean are nothing but good for you, no matter how puny you feel on a beautiful Wednesday in January.

Feel better, baby girl.