We put my car in the shop yesterday for brake work. On the way to the station, I saw the first little purple wildflowers along the roadside. That just filled my heart with joy and expectation! I’m almost counting the minutes until I see bluebonnets blooming! My grandkids are going to be here for their spring break this year. Most of the time will be spent at the home of the other set of grandparents, but I’m really tempted to take them to the hill country before heading back to Oklahoma with them. I’d love for them to see rolling hills full of bluebonnets and other beautiful wildflowers along our highways. Maybe they’d understand a little of why I love Texas so much.
Today, I noticed that at least one of our redbud trees is in bloom. Isn’t it a beauty? I don’t remember the buds being so dark last year. Or any other year, for that matter. I’m sure it was. Redbuds don’t get darker. They are the color they are, year after year.
We picked up my car today. All fixed up! I am so glad. It took a little forgiveness on my part to take it to the particular station we took it to. You see, many years ago, I swore I’d never go there again. This is what happened: It was nearing Thanksgiving. I was exhausted, feeling underappreciated and taken for granted by my son and hubby and decided that I was not cooking Thanksgiving dinner that year. I didn’t care if we ate sandwiches or frozen dinners or went to someone else’s house or if they cooked, that was fine, but I was not doing all of the prep work, shopping, cleaning, cooking and cleaning up after — by myself — again that year! As luck would have it, an uncle and aunt that we hadn’t seen in many years invited us over for dinner. I happily accepted and my menfolk happily agreed to anything that would keep me (the crazy woman) from ranting and raving any more.
Thanksgiving day dawns cold, gloomy and sleeting. I don’t care! We’re going! Now, it’s almost 83 miles between our home and my uncle’s, so my menfolk know that I’m in a desperate state. I don’t do ice on roads. I don’t drive it, I don’t ride along in it. They look at me and my determined scowl, they look at each other (at which point I believe they say silent prayers) and we head for the car. We get about 23 miles from home, just about to this gas station/garage when our windshield wipers die from the heavy ice on them! Hubby pulls in and works on them, to the best of his ability and realizes that he needs a screwdriver and doesn’t have one. He goes in and asks to borrow one. The garage is closed and the girl behind the register won’t let him borrow one! Now this is quite literally a life and death situation because we can’t see crap out the windshield at this point! Thanksgiving plans aside, getting home is now a very serious situation. She won’t budge, she doesn’t care. Nope, no way. Nada, not going to happen. So, we decide to head home. It is the shortest distance. Hubby drives with his head out the window most of the way on ice-covered roads. Now, I’m praying and crying because I can’t think of anything at the house to eat and our poor son is in the backseat wondering where in the world his mother is and who is this crazy woman in the front seat?
We finally make it home (I’ve blocked out how long it took us to actually drive the distance, but we did make it safely). By then I’m royally pissed and I swear never to darken that station’s door again. My hubby found a turkey breast in the freezer and a very few other Thanksgiving type staples and he cooked our dinner — mostly in the microwave. Our son and I played board games at the bar and kept hubby company while he cooked (which no one ever did for me!) and we had one of the very best Thanksgivings in our little families history! All toasty and warm, just the three of us and our dogs.
As for the station, a friend of hubby’s recommended the place as a good one to get work done on the car and I realized it wasn’t the garage that did us wrong, it was the cashier. So, we went to the garage. I was very pleased with their work and with the charges for their work. All’s well that ends well. The end….