Car, Sadness, Eggs

 I'm upset. I'm annoyed/pissed at myself, and pissed at my car, and I wish things were The Way They Used To Be.

I wrote about the fun of the Here There Be Dragons day at the library. I did not write about the aftermath.

The parking spots at the library have those low cement curbs at the front of the spots.  Apparently when I parked, I pulled in too close and must have driven up on it a little, because when I pulled out I heard a slight scraping sound.  This has happened before, as I imagine that it's happened to most people.  In Days Gone By, in my 2001 Honda, nothing would have happened.  But I'm driving a modern car now, and when I got home I discovered that I had managed to pull the entire right front fender/bumper loose.  Language ensued.  Then I studied the situation, grabbed the bumper, snapped it back into place and replaced a screw.  I was quite pleased with myself.

Until the next Tuesday, when I was driving home from work and it was rattling a bit.  I pulled into the feed store to get advice from Rik and Steve.  Steve found another loose screw and fixed it, but pointed out other damage and said I really needed to take it to the shop - but it should be OK to drive until then.  "Then" ended up being a couple of weeks away (next Monday) because all the body shops are backed up.

Wednesday, to and from work, no problem.  I didn't drive again until going to work Tuesday - and I heard more rattling.  I had planned on going grocery shopping, but decided to skip it so I could get home and examine the situation.  I did pull into the Dollar General to pick up some milk and cat food - and heard a scraping.  The underskirting on the driver's side had come loose and was lying on the ground.

The logical thing to do would be to call a tow truck and have it hauled to the shop - which would have left me at the Dollar General with no transportation.  The last time I rented a car, even with a reservation, it took three hours to get it - Lord only knows how long it would have taken, even if I had gotten an Uber (if they come out that far) and gotten there.  Likely not that day.

I was only three miles from home - that's all I needed.  And I was at the store.

There may be something more redneck than crawling under your car in the parking lot of a Dollar General with a roll of duct tape . . . .   (another customer was kind enough to help me).  And it did last until I got home and then it fell off again.  After lunch and a rest, I went back under the car to see if there was anyway I could rig it securely.  There wasn't.   Rob called to chat that evening, and I was saying that I was upset because now I was going to have to get a tow truck out here, and get myself to the car rental place, and it was such a pain in the butt, and he suggested that I just pull the skirting off.  He had to do that this spring when a deer hit his car and the under flaps were scraping the tire.  Hmmm.  Sounds like a plan.

It was dark and I was tired, so (with apologies) called out to work Wednesday and went to "pull the skirting off."  Two hours later . . . .   As I told Rob, I probably could have done it faster if I a) had a lift, b) had the right tools, and c) knew what the hell I was doing.  But it's done, and I've got other parts put back together with zip ties and yes, more tape (I upgraded to my Gorilla tape).  Now to hope that it holds together long enough to drive it to the shop.

But yesterday I was pretty damned depressed about the whole thing.  And beating myself up.  Here, I had promised Bob that I could take care of things, and then I rip the car up.  He would have been so disappointed.  And then I kicked my own butt.  If this had happened to a friend - I would have said thing like isn't it a pisser that cars today are made of plastic and put together with pop beads and why does the height of the front of the car have to match the height of the curb?   And if I would tell a friend not to call herself an idiot for making such a stupid mistake, why can't I tell myself the same thing?

But I'm depressed about it.  I wish I didn't have to arrange everything myself.  It didn't help that I had a dream about him - we were in a car, but he was going to drop me off at this strange house to wait while he went to get a rental car.  I plaintively asked "can't I just go with you?"  But no - I can't go with him.  He left, and I woke up crying.

I've just been missing him a lot lately.  For one, it's September (although it was over 100 degrees when I was hunkered down on the asphalt at the Dollar General).  It's getting dark earlier, the light is at a different angle, and it seems that it should feel like fall.   And for so many years about now Bob, Rob, Jeff, and I would really be gearing up for the Howl.  In a couple of weeks we would start going to the museum to put our building materials in place.  And now, nothing.

I have from time to time mentioned my friend Los, who every day does a FaceBook post about some memory of his life with his late wife.  The anniversary of her passing is in 9 days, and I can tell that it's tearing him up.  I know how it feels; like you keep trying to find some way to stop it.  Last week Maria posted on the one-year anniversary of losing Mischa.  I feel their loss.  I feel my own.

A FaceBook memory popped up of Rob, Amanda, and Zeke coming to a big dinosaur exhibit.  I remember it well - on one hand it was fun, and impressive, and I genuinely enjoyed it.  But I was also howling on the inside, feeling so empty, because I was there without Bob and he would have loved it.  And I was trying to keep from crying, from letting anyone know how much it hurt.  It seemed like a lifetime ago; I was surprised to see that it was only two years.

The loneliness sort of got to me yesterday.  I've gotten used to being alone, and I can have interactions at work two days a week.  But last night I found myself  wishing that I knew someone near enough to just come over and hang out.  Make popcorn, watch TV, chat.  Simple but impossible.

Enough of the pity party.  Must have a glimmer.  And these days, it's my chickens.  When I went to get my chicks last March, they were almost sold out, so I couldn't get any exotic ones - I had to take what they had, which was two copper marans and three speckled Sussex.  I did want the marans - they lay lovely dark brown eggs.  The Sussex lay a tan egg, and they're a bit of an odd-colored bird, the "little speckled hen" of farm stories.  They won't hold still long enough to get a good picture so here's one from the internet.

They all have different speckle patterns.  When I told my friend Judy (who keeps chickens) about them, she said "Oh, but they are the most friendly chickens!"  And she's right.  It's hard to get in and out of the scratch yard because they crowd around my feet - and it's tricky to walk in there for the same reason.  Frollo has now taken to flying up to my arm - or my shoulder - and doesn't want to get off.  And maybe I'll take a video to show how much they talk.  Adorable little birds.

Spring chicks will usually start laying at 4-5 months old.  At four months I started lecturing them "you're adults now - you need to start paying the rent."   At five months - rent paid!

I had been carefully doling out the 3-4 eggs a week that Djali laid (she's the turquoise eggs).  Now I'm wondering what to do with the 3-5 eggs a *day* that I'm getting.  And just in time for my annual physical and bloodwork, where my doctor complains to me about my cholesterol.

So there's where I stand at the moment.  I do sometimes just have to admit that at times I'm not OK.  This whole car thing would be easier with two of us.  I want to share the bowl of popcorn.  Sometimes I'm lonely.  I wish there was someone to smile when I walk in a room.  I wish there was something to hold in my arms at night other than my cuddle pillow.  I wish there was more laughter, more conversations in my life.  I wish Bob was still here.

I'll get over this, and I'll feel better when my car is in and out of the shop  I don't like driving in the first place, and I really don't like driving a rental, and it would be the luck of the draw that this happened at a time when I have three appointments in the next week or so, across town, instead of my usual two days a week driving to work.