I have had reason to reflect on my younger years lately. My children come to me and share their thoughts and disappointments and worries, and it sort of makes me laugh because they have so much life left to live, yet they are so worried that there is not. My daughter, for instance, is all upset lately that she is never going to fit in. She is in 3rd grade. Sadly, the cliques and name calling and being mean because you aren't perfect (like kids this age know anything about perfect) has all begun. "I don't want to be your friend because you don't where the same cool shoes I do." It is so trivial and so immature, but that is her little social world. Then I remember when I was her age. We moved the summer before I started 3rd grade. We had gone to a Catholic school with about 15 kids per grade to a public school that had 25 kids in each class, and my grade for the district had over 300 kids in it. Talk about culture shock. You want to talk about feeling out of place. But I managed to make some friends that year. Of course, I had the mean teacher who had every student believing that she had a belt in the bathroom where she took kids who were bad and spanked them. I would like to see how that kind of discipline would fly these days. I don't think she really did that, and I was a good little girl and kept out of trouble anyway. There were a couple of boys though who went to the bathroom almost daily.
I think about those days and can't believe it was so long ago.
My younger son is 12 1/2 and in 7th grade. He is in the middle of a dilemma of trying to fit in, but trying to be an individual. At that age, it is near impossible to do both at the same time. He has those days of being glum and sad about his life, but then he has those days of being happy to be who he is. I think about 7th grade and my best friend Debi. I remember a boy laughing at me one day in class because I had a close fitting t-shirt on and you could see the seams going horizontally on my bra cup. It was a 'training' bra, and they weren't very flattering to begin with, but he had to point it out loud enough so several people could hear. Well, if that didn't just make me feel like a freak. It was in Social Studies class with Miss B. She was quite a woman. She would get talking so fast that she would have drool coming down out of the corners of her mouth. NO KIDDING! She also taught French to those who chose to for their free period. I was thinking study hall would have been a better choice after the 10 weeks we had that going on. Socially, I started feeling like I fit somewhere. Debi and I became best friends and we spent a lot of time together. So, I am hoping for my son that someone comes into his life soon that will be his best buddy and he can feel more like he belongs somewhere.
My eldest. Nearly 15 and wanting to drive every time we have to go somewhere. Driving for him until his birthday means backing out of the parking spot and driving down our long driveway. I let him drive a couple of miles yesterday when we went to our friends' house to pick something up. It was just on the back dirt roads for about 2 miles, if even that far. He was all nervous and being overly careful. I must admit, I was not such a good passenger, but we made it there. I let him drive just as far back and took over the wheel just as we got to the paved road. He got a taste of driving at least. Now, I can hold it over his head about getting his permit if he doesn't straighten up his act! Yes, 14 going on 24. He knows everything. We (his parents) are stupid. Sound familiar? If you have ever raised teenagers, I am sure it does. One minute he is the mature, helpful, hard-working young man. The next minute, he is the bratty, mouthy, selfish, self-righteous adolescent. I don't know how their switches change so quick, but he surely has a switch that flips in a heartbeat sometimes. Is it hormones? Is it stress? Is it lack of sleep? I have no idea, but there are times when I look in his eyes and I just have to relax and let him blow up, then send him to his room, and hope he will sleep it off before I have to deal with him the next day.
Was I like that? I am sure there were times when I was his age that I got just as angry at my parents. Just as angry with my younger sister as he does his brother. I felt just as enraged at times too. I worked hard and did my best at school. It is a sucky age though, being a teenager. You are no longer a child, but you are not an adult yet either. You want to be grown up, but you don't really want to let go of those little perks of being a kid. I remember oh too well how all that felt, and I can empathize.
One time, my brother and I and some friends bought tickets to go to a concert. It turned out that it became so foggy that to try driving 35-miles to get to the concert was just stupid. I was still determined that we should go, in fact, I was sure my brother and our friend ditched me to go to it (and they might have and I never knew about it). I went across the street from our house and tried calling them on the pay phone and my father came over and dragged me home, well, I wasn't really dragged. He told me I was a fool and no one was going anywhere in that fog. I was so mad and I went in my room and cried. It was so unfair, and I had paid for my own ticket too. Well, in hindsight (years later) I thought back to that night and realized what a dumb ass I was being. I would tie my kids up to keep them off the road on a night like that. I was just so young and ignorant and selfish about the whole thing, but it took years to be able to see that.
My husband and I have three wonderful kids. They are good hearted, strong willed and they can make things happen for themselves. I know these times they are going through are just part of growing. I wish I could make them see that this is all just a short part of their lives and they will get through it, that there is so much life beyond their school years. But I can't. They have to live through this and like me they have to find out for themselves what is really important, what really matters, and what really doesn't. So, for now, I can hug away the tears and hurt feelings a little and give them words of encouragement and support. I can tell them over and over and over and over that this too shall pass. One day, I am sure they will come back and say, "Mom, you were right." And of course I am, I am the Mom.
I have been there and done that and I survived, and so will they.
CC
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Scratching That Itch
Yes, crazy things like this get me excited. Then, I get on my favorite chicken forum and find a young person has posted that his father, in a bout of mid-life crisis mayhem, bought 5 chicks and brought them home. HA HA! If this is mid-life crisis, I say, "BRING IT ON!" I hope my hubby catches it too!
I have one incubator full of eggs hatching this week and the other one due in a week or so and more going in this week. I also got a batch from a hatchery (MM) of 32 chicks, who are now residing in my basement until the garage brooder is up and running and then they will move outside in a matter of a couple of weeks after that.
So, yes, I am crazy.
Ah, Spring is surely coming in. We are moving up in temps this week and the snow is melting, chicks are hatching, birds are singing, maple sap is running, Second starts track this week, Easter candy is on all the shelves at the stores, I can see little spears of green poking up ever so slightly in a couple of places. I am ready. Oops, maybe not completely, I need to inventory my seeds for the garden. It is almost time to start those, isn't it? About another week or two and it will be though. I will get there.
Maybe I will even get that cleaning fever? Hmm, that is a shaky one though. : )
Okay, so it is time to go crank up the housecleaning playlist on my iPod and get to it.
I hope people everywhere are enjoying the change in the weather!
Oops again,
I almost forgot to mention a milestone in my chicken raising...I got my first fart egg.
Yeah, you read it right, a FART egg. They are the little tiny eggs usually laid by pullets just starting out laying and they have no yolk. I got the first one yesterday and my kids and I had fun guessing if it had anything in it or not, and then we broke it to see. No yolk.CC
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
I Hate To Rush
I do, I hate to be rushed and I hate for things to move along too quickly. Winter this year is an exception, I am SO ready for it to be over with. The sad thing is this: We want the season to end, which if it happens quickly means that the perception of time is speeding up. A second is still a second and a minute is still 60 seconds and so, but how we perceive the passage of time speeds up as we get older. Mind you, I do NOT want to go back in time to when I was a kid or a teenage (insert a scream here), or even a young adult (had so much to learn about life then). But time does seem to pass by quicker and quicker as we age, and especially so when we have kids. Funny though, we say things like, "God, I can't wait until he gets through this phase!", or "I sure hope this passes quickly." But do we? I am not enjoying some of the uglier sides of Eldest being a teenager, but I look at what a good person he is becoming otherwise and I don't want that to walk out the door and into adulthood too fast, do I? I want to savor the good things about being a mom while they are still here, to enjoy some laughter and fun and seeing them learn and grow before my eyes. I know that soon it will be gone, or perceivably soon. So, really, I don't want the season to hurry up and end because I know it will mean that I am one season older and my children are one season closer to leaving the nest. It means that I am one season closer to getting off this ride called life, and I don't want to rush that. When we are kids life seems like such a long, long road and we can't wait to grow up and do this that or the other thing. But the truth is, once we get to be a grown up, it all goes way too fast.
So, I hate to rush. I want to savor life and not just work through it. I want to laugh and smell flowers and taste chocolate and have long kisses with the man I love. I want to sit and hold my children in my arms and remember the way they smelled and felt when they were babies. I want to watch the grass grow and flowers bloom and baby chicks and bunnies and puppies be born and grow and play. I don't want to rush my life by and in the end look back and think, "It all happened so fast, I wish I would have...".
CC
So, I hate to rush. I want to savor life and not just work through it. I want to laugh and smell flowers and taste chocolate and have long kisses with the man I love. I want to sit and hold my children in my arms and remember the way they smelled and felt when they were babies. I want to watch the grass grow and flowers bloom and baby chicks and bunnies and puppies be born and grow and play. I don't want to rush my life by and in the end look back and think, "It all happened so fast, I wish I would have...".
CC
Monday, February 28, 2011
Hear a Cheep!
This used to be the time of year when all I could think about was my garden: cataloging seeds, draw up a detailed maps of where to plant what, ordering seeds and plants if I needed them. I would comb over my seed catalogs, usually Seed Savers Exchange, Seeds of Change and Burpee. Don't get me wrong, I still am thinking about my garden and have not thrown away any catalogs, but I am way behind now that I have got the chicken hatchin' fever.
Last year was my first time as an adult at hatching eggs. I started with a my first batch, a dozen Silkies.
(see picture to the left), and 3 eggs from my own hens that were crossbreeds (Dark Cornish and Easter Egger), and 10 Cayuga Duck eggs from my neighbor's flock. This was my test run, and my results were 4 Silkies, 2 ducks and all 3 of my own eggs hatched. This was SO exciting for me! Here I am a year and 7 hatches later and I am still just as excited about my eggs and chicks as I was then. I feel like a child in the candy store when I start pouring over ads for hatching eggs and chicks and looking on hatchery websites and at their catalogs. Seriously now, I am a grown woman! But I see it as a simple joy to help bring something into this world and nurture it along until one day, it provides me with something good to eat, whether it be eggs or their carcass.
I was quite saddened with my first hatch this year though. I set 34 eggs and ended up with just 1 little White Silkie chick. 1 chick! That is terrible!!! But, the eggs had been shipped through the mail which causes some damage to them. Then I had trouble getting my incubator to hold its temp and humidity. All in all, though I was disappointed, I was not surprised. So, I had to get some friends for my lone little chicky, and bought 10 more from a breeder (when I got 4 dozen more eggs to put in the incubator). However, so far, I have lost 4 of those chicks and I don't know why :( It makes me so sad to lose them like that and not know why.
But to make myself feel better, I got more eggs! I must stop after this though, I think I have used up my budget for buying eggs this year. I have about 60 in right now and it looks like about 50 of those are certainly growing some little wannabe chicks in them. Since my first batch failed so epically, I had to order more Silkies, and then I found a breed I have been hunting for, Standard Buff Brahmas!! I thought for sure I would be outbid on the auction, but I got them! Now to get them to hatch when they get here. That is the trick, isn't it?
Today when I went out to do chores, I opened the door from the outside of one of the coops to collect eggs, and one of my Easter Egger hens that I hatched from my own flock (one of the 3 in the first batch) was laying her first egg of the spring. How did I know that it was her first one? Because I haven't gotten an almost olive green egg yet this year, just bluish green ones. She was obviously pushing to get that little prize out of her butt, so I gave her a couple of minutes. Lo and behold, there is came, a perfectly beautiful green egg! What did I do? Ran it in the house and stuck it in the incubator, of course! I want more green egg layers! My neighbor's friend wants some too, so I might as well hatch away for her too.
So, I hear not only A cheep, but lots of cheeps and will be hearing them more and more and more and more and more. They should have a hatchers/chickens anonymous, but I would hate to turn myself in because the first thing they would want to do is take away all my incubators and chickens. I think I will be happy with my addiciton.
CC
Last year was my first time as an adult at hatching eggs. I started with a my first batch, a dozen Silkies.(see picture to the left), and 3 eggs from my own hens that were crossbreeds (Dark Cornish and Easter Egger), and 10 Cayuga Duck eggs from my neighbor's flock. This was my test run, and my results were 4 Silkies, 2 ducks and all 3 of my own eggs hatched. This was SO exciting for me! Here I am a year and 7 hatches later and I am still just as excited about my eggs and chicks as I was then. I feel like a child in the candy store when I start pouring over ads for hatching eggs and chicks and looking on hatchery websites and at their catalogs. Seriously now, I am a grown woman! But I see it as a simple joy to help bring something into this world and nurture it along until one day, it provides me with something good to eat, whether it be eggs or their carcass.
I was quite saddened with my first hatch this year though. I set 34 eggs and ended up with just 1 little White Silkie chick. 1 chick! That is terrible!!! But, the eggs had been shipped through the mail which causes some damage to them. Then I had trouble getting my incubator to hold its temp and humidity. All in all, though I was disappointed, I was not surprised. So, I had to get some friends for my lone little chicky, and bought 10 more from a breeder (when I got 4 dozen more eggs to put in the incubator). However, so far, I have lost 4 of those chicks and I don't know why :( It makes me so sad to lose them like that and not know why.
But to make myself feel better, I got more eggs! I must stop after this though, I think I have used up my budget for buying eggs this year. I have about 60 in right now and it looks like about 50 of those are certainly growing some little wannabe chicks in them. Since my first batch failed so epically, I had to order more Silkies, and then I found a breed I have been hunting for, Standard Buff Brahmas!! I thought for sure I would be outbid on the auction, but I got them! Now to get them to hatch when they get here. That is the trick, isn't it?
Today when I went out to do chores, I opened the door from the outside of one of the coops to collect eggs, and one of my Easter Egger hens that I hatched from my own flock (one of the 3 in the first batch) was laying her first egg of the spring. How did I know that it was her first one? Because I haven't gotten an almost olive green egg yet this year, just bluish green ones. She was obviously pushing to get that little prize out of her butt, so I gave her a couple of minutes. Lo and behold, there is came, a perfectly beautiful green egg! What did I do? Ran it in the house and stuck it in the incubator, of course! I want more green egg layers! My neighbor's friend wants some too, so I might as well hatch away for her too.
So, I hear not only A cheep, but lots of cheeps and will be hearing them more and more and more and more and more. They should have a hatchers/chickens anonymous, but I would hate to turn myself in because the first thing they would want to do is take away all my incubators and chickens. I think I will be happy with my addiciton.
CC
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Silly Silly Featherheads
I just went out to see what the heck the birds were chasing each other for. 
I saw one of the Splash girls running with something in her beak, but I could not tell what it was. 
Now, mind you, the only things out there are snow, straw and mash, plus whatever shavings haven't been poopified yet. 
I was worried someone was eating a fresh laid egg. 
I got out there and the chase was over.
But as I rounded the corner of the brooder house, I caught a glance of the hole in the corner of the plastic tub I keep the grit in. I had accidentally hit it with the snowblower earlier this week and it just broke all to pieces on that corner. Lo and behold, a little tan egg was sitting in there!
It was smaller than my Silkie eggs but larger than my Sebrights. Who it could be? There are about 25 girls out there, so it could have been one of a few who I know had not begun laying last fall. It is the cutest, purtiest egg, and it was still warm! 
Those silly, silly pullets. She has much to learn about finding a soft, warm place to set her bum to lay an egg.
The end.
I saw one of the Splash girls running with something in her beak, but I could not tell what it was. Now, mind you, the only things out there are snow, straw and mash, plus whatever shavings haven't been poopified yet. I was worried someone was eating a fresh laid egg. I got out there and the chase was over. But as I rounded the corner of the brooder house, I caught a glance of the hole in the corner of the plastic tub I keep the grit in. I had accidentally hit it with the snowblower earlier this week and it just broke all to pieces on that corner. Lo and behold, a little tan egg was sitting in there!
It was smaller than my Silkie eggs but larger than my Sebrights. Who it could be? There are about 25 girls out there, so it could have been one of a few who I know had not begun laying last fall. It is the cutest, purtiest egg, and it was still warm! Those silly, silly pullets. She has much to learn about finding a soft, warm place to set her bum to lay an egg.
The end.
Monday, February 21, 2011
So Sad
This weekend was my first hatch for chickens for 2011. I set 34 eggs and got 1 chick. How depressing! The worst part was the chicks that got as far as pipping - when they crack a hole in the shell so they can start coming out - then died. I had 3 of them do that! It is heartbreaking. I can only hope my future hatches will have better results. Being the first hatch of the year, my incubators probably weren't running their best. One of them stinks where I had an egg explode in it last summer when it was sweltering hot here. Yes, it was immensely gross! Since the incubator is made out of styrofoam, it didn't all come out, even after using bleach. Yuck! I am hoping it doesn't effect future hatches.
The other thing that happened that saddens me is that I lost my beautiful little castor doe. She was a Mini Rex rabbit and very soft and lovely. She was about 7-years old, and I think her age and maybe an infection were her cause of death. She had some bad thing going on with her eyes this last week and I ordered meds and vetted her, but it wasn't enough. I went out to do chores last night and I knew she would not make it until morning. I picked her up and she did not struggle, just cuddled up in my arms.
Spring is on its way and I hope that with that I have better luck with all my critters. My they be fruitful and multiply, but not toooooo fast ; )
CC
The other thing that happened that saddens me is that I lost my beautiful little castor doe. She was a Mini Rex rabbit and very soft and lovely. She was about 7-years old, and I think her age and maybe an infection were her cause of death. She had some bad thing going on with her eyes this last week and I ordered meds and vetted her, but it wasn't enough. I went out to do chores last night and I knew she would not make it until morning. I picked her up and she did not struggle, just cuddled up in my arms.
Spring is on its way and I hope that with that I have better luck with all my critters. My they be fruitful and multiply, but not toooooo fast ; )
CC
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Cars
An old friend of mine told me that I should write about my first car. She probably remembers more stories about when I had that thing than I do, it was so long ago. But, my first car was a 1976 Chevy Nova. There is nothing wrong with that, but the fact that it was a total rust bucket and was pumpkin orange, well, that gave it all the reason to remember it. I bought it for $500 cash from the county health and welfare office. The seats were as lovely as the outside, black and white houndstooth patterned. The crazy thing burned as much oil as gas, and leaked oil too until I found out it had a bad head gasket. With the help of my brother, I fixed that problem AND patched the gaping hole under the foot pedal with a piece of sheet metal. For the first winter, there was slush and mud getting thrown up by my feet until he helped me bandage it. But hey, that car ran for me for 2 1/2 years, then I sold it to some crazy kids for $200 and they used it as a field car. I think I got my $500 worth out of it.
My friend Anne and I always talked about going to a Halloween parade with that car and making a stem to go on top. It didn't always stay just plain orange though. It got so rusted up that the latches on the driver's side seized up and I had to replace the whole door. Then, it was a pumpkin orange and maroon colored car. The interior of the door was white, when the rest of the interior was black with the ever so lovely houndstooth. Ah, they just don't make them like that any more. And Thank Goodness!
I have driven a few other cars since then: 1974 Dodge Dart sedan (and ugly 4-door grandma car that the frame broke on it just a year or so after I bought it); 1973 Chevy Nova with a V8 327(I think?), that I had glass pack mufflers on it when I was stationed in California to make it sound cooooool. I loved that car and always have wished I would have just put the money into it to get it fixed right. It only had an AM/FM radio in it that hardly worked, but it got me across the US when I got out of boot camp and went to my first duty station. It was a light metallic green with a dark green vinyl roof, and the interior was this shiny green fabric. I really liked that car. When it was getting to a point where it was in need of some costly repairs, I was just a few months away from transferring overseas, so I sold it and borrowed my brother's car that he wasn't using. Oh My God, was that a mistake. He had this car in storage for quite some time. It was in nice condition, a 1980 Red Dodge Mirada (I think they only made them one year). It was the cool car my older brother bought brand new when he was still in high school. It was the car we would go out with our friends in on the weekends with a really cool 8-track stereo in it. When I borrowed it from him, it still had the case of 8-tracks in it. But, since he just let it sit, little did we know, the fuel line was trashed. I found this out when I left Denver to drive back to San Diego. I got to New Mexico and started having some problems. By the time I got to Gallup, it died. I found a repair shop and they pulled the gas tank off and it was full of sediment and rust. They didn't have one to replace it with and it would take days to get a new one, but I only had two days and I had to be back or be UA (Unauthorized Absence-same as AWOL). So, the shop cleaned it best they could and we put fresh gas in and I headed out. I made it back to San Diego, barely. It was still giving me problems once I got to SD. I had a friend from work who worked on cars for people, so I took it to him. We ended up running all new fuel lines in that damn thing before it ran right. I was so glad to take it back to my brother when I was ready to transfer. In the end, I would have spent half the money to fix the Nova as I ended up spending on plane tickets and repairs to that Mirada.
My next vehicle was a brand new 1992 Chevy S-10 Maxi Cab pick-up truck. It was Frost White and I loved my little truck. It was perfect for me with it's 5-speed manual transmission, stereo with cassette player, the nice cargo space behind my seats to put things like groceries, a bed to haul bigger things like furniture. Ah, life was good with that truck. I never would have gotten rid of it except I was expecting our second child and the little jump seats in the back didn't work for car seats. So, on with the soccer mom vehicle, a 1995 Dodge Caravan. It was used, but ran well. It was good for a small but growing famiy. The only problem we had with it the first couple of years was that the floor was always freezing cold in the winter, no matter how high the heat was cranking. It wasn't until I took it in for an oil change one time and told them I wanted the heat checked on it. We found out then that the lines/tubes that ran the heat to the back were rotted out and all the outside air was being driven into the car floor space. NO WONDER my feet froze the time I road in the back! My kids were lucky enough that they were still up on car seats and bundled up pretty good.
Buy like every vehicle, it had its day where it needed to be upgraded. I then thought I needed and SUV. I traded in the van for a 1997 Chevy Suburban. Huge, ginormous mistake. First of all, climbing up into that thing to get kids in and out was a hassle. I had two preschoolers and a baby, and getting all three in and out....not fun. There is loads of space and it drives smoothly and I did like many things about it. Then there was the gas bill. Again, Oh My God! Top that off with the fact that trying to park that thing anywhere was hell. Six months later, I bought my present 2003 Chrysler Town and Country mini van. I now have about 105,000 miles on it and it still is running quite well. It has some wear on it, and scratches and a couple of dents, but it has been a great vehicle. However, now my lifestyle has changed once more, and I think I will be getting myself a truck again this summer.
So, there it is, the story of my cars. Anne, I am sorry if it isn't all as exciting as you remember it. The 'good ol' days' are a bit fuzzy for me now that my life is so much different than it was back then. And 'then' is 30-years ago. I have traveled many, many, many, many, many miles since then.
It is time for me to go fire up the mini van now that it has warmed up to 0˚F from last night's -15˚F. I need to run my errands for the day.
CC
My friend Anne and I always talked about going to a Halloween parade with that car and making a stem to go on top. It didn't always stay just plain orange though. It got so rusted up that the latches on the driver's side seized up and I had to replace the whole door. Then, it was a pumpkin orange and maroon colored car. The interior of the door was white, when the rest of the interior was black with the ever so lovely houndstooth. Ah, they just don't make them like that any more. And Thank Goodness!
I have driven a few other cars since then: 1974 Dodge Dart sedan (and ugly 4-door grandma car that the frame broke on it just a year or so after I bought it); 1973 Chevy Nova with a V8 327(I think?), that I had glass pack mufflers on it when I was stationed in California to make it sound cooooool. I loved that car and always have wished I would have just put the money into it to get it fixed right. It only had an AM/FM radio in it that hardly worked, but it got me across the US when I got out of boot camp and went to my first duty station. It was a light metallic green with a dark green vinyl roof, and the interior was this shiny green fabric. I really liked that car. When it was getting to a point where it was in need of some costly repairs, I was just a few months away from transferring overseas, so I sold it and borrowed my brother's car that he wasn't using. Oh My God, was that a mistake. He had this car in storage for quite some time. It was in nice condition, a 1980 Red Dodge Mirada (I think they only made them one year). It was the cool car my older brother bought brand new when he was still in high school. It was the car we would go out with our friends in on the weekends with a really cool 8-track stereo in it. When I borrowed it from him, it still had the case of 8-tracks in it. But, since he just let it sit, little did we know, the fuel line was trashed. I found this out when I left Denver to drive back to San Diego. I got to New Mexico and started having some problems. By the time I got to Gallup, it died. I found a repair shop and they pulled the gas tank off and it was full of sediment and rust. They didn't have one to replace it with and it would take days to get a new one, but I only had two days and I had to be back or be UA (Unauthorized Absence-same as AWOL). So, the shop cleaned it best they could and we put fresh gas in and I headed out. I made it back to San Diego, barely. It was still giving me problems once I got to SD. I had a friend from work who worked on cars for people, so I took it to him. We ended up running all new fuel lines in that damn thing before it ran right. I was so glad to take it back to my brother when I was ready to transfer. In the end, I would have spent half the money to fix the Nova as I ended up spending on plane tickets and repairs to that Mirada.
My next vehicle was a brand new 1992 Chevy S-10 Maxi Cab pick-up truck. It was Frost White and I loved my little truck. It was perfect for me with it's 5-speed manual transmission, stereo with cassette player, the nice cargo space behind my seats to put things like groceries, a bed to haul bigger things like furniture. Ah, life was good with that truck. I never would have gotten rid of it except I was expecting our second child and the little jump seats in the back didn't work for car seats. So, on with the soccer mom vehicle, a 1995 Dodge Caravan. It was used, but ran well. It was good for a small but growing famiy. The only problem we had with it the first couple of years was that the floor was always freezing cold in the winter, no matter how high the heat was cranking. It wasn't until I took it in for an oil change one time and told them I wanted the heat checked on it. We found out then that the lines/tubes that ran the heat to the back were rotted out and all the outside air was being driven into the car floor space. NO WONDER my feet froze the time I road in the back! My kids were lucky enough that they were still up on car seats and bundled up pretty good.
Buy like every vehicle, it had its day where it needed to be upgraded. I then thought I needed and SUV. I traded in the van for a 1997 Chevy Suburban. Huge, ginormous mistake. First of all, climbing up into that thing to get kids in and out was a hassle. I had two preschoolers and a baby, and getting all three in and out....not fun. There is loads of space and it drives smoothly and I did like many things about it. Then there was the gas bill. Again, Oh My God! Top that off with the fact that trying to park that thing anywhere was hell. Six months later, I bought my present 2003 Chrysler Town and Country mini van. I now have about 105,000 miles on it and it still is running quite well. It has some wear on it, and scratches and a couple of dents, but it has been a great vehicle. However, now my lifestyle has changed once more, and I think I will be getting myself a truck again this summer.
So, there it is, the story of my cars. Anne, I am sorry if it isn't all as exciting as you remember it. The 'good ol' days' are a bit fuzzy for me now that my life is so much different than it was back then. And 'then' is 30-years ago. I have traveled many, many, many, many, many miles since then.
It is time for me to go fire up the mini van now that it has warmed up to 0˚F from last night's -15˚F. I need to run my errands for the day.
CC
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)