I should be at church right now, but Tank Boy has a good, snotty cold, so we figured we should let him get his full nap in. I’ll dress him and go once he wakes up. In the meantime, I’ll attempt to blog the entry I’ve been wanting to do, but haven’t had the time to do, for days now.
I am thankful:
1. That I drive a Suburban. It is probably not the coolest of vehicles and I was kind of scared to drive it when we first got it because it is so very HUGE, but now I think we should build it a stable with its own private stall, hire a private stable hand and give it a rub down after every turn around the town. Friday morning after Thanksgiving I was out very early doing my traditional “you’re insane to be awake already shopping” when, on the road between the mall and the local Target, I was rear-ended by a minivan. I threw the Suburban into park (whoa Nelly!), jumped out, and walked around to the back. As I saw the front end of the van that hit me I immediately thought, “Oh, no. This is bad.”
The front end of the van was completely crunched in. The headlights were broken, the grill was caved, the hood was buckled up and the radiator was losing fluid like a urinating elephant (if you’ve never seen an elephant urinate, just trust me on this simile — lots of fluid). The other driver disembarked her sad looking Caravan saying, “I’m sooo sorry! I’m sooo sorry! Oh, I am sooooooo sorry!” as I was looking at her vehicle. Of course, while she was still clambering out and apologizing I looked at the back end of my beast.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “These things happen.”
Enlarged for your viewing pleasure, please the the damage my Suburban incurred:
There is actually also a pretty sizeable dent in the other end of the bumper, but right smack dab in the middle of it is the dealership sticker, which also has the name of our town and the next closest town on it. Not being one to give free advertising or my precise location, I have opted not to post it. It is in reality the most serious of the damage, but it is confined to the bumper. There was no body damage, or any other damage, to my now beloved beastie.
Normally when I go out without the rat pack in tow I take Husband’s car, which is quite small. I actually was going to take it, but had left all of the shopping ads in the Suburban the day before and was feeling too lazy to sort through them and transfer them into the other car before leaving that morning. So, I guess I am also thankful that I am, at times, lazy. Had I not listened to the inner voice that said, “Who cares about the gas mileage, just take the truck,” Husband’s car would have been totaled, I probably would have been shoved into the car in front of me, and chances are good I would have been hurt. As it was, I got to leave the scene before the tow truck even showed up for the other lady, and the only “medical” attention I needed was a nap. And then later, a second one.
2. That my husband indulges me and my family tradition of going to a tree farm every year the day after Thanksgiving to find and cut down the perfect Christmas Tree. I know he would much rather adhere to his own family tradition of pulling the pre-lit, artificial tree out of storage, popping it up, and being done. In the beginning I’m sure he indulged me because he wanted to be a good husband and make his new wife happy. Now he is outnumbered and our kids would mutiny. So, it’s not as easy and it’s not as cheap as an artificial one, but it fills our home with piney goodness and masks the seemingly ever present St. Bernard B.O. This year, as you can tell by the picture, it was quite warm the day after Thanksgiving, so it was a good way to get the kids outdoors and running around, which they did, with gleeful abandon. For awhile anyway, but that is a different story for a different day.
3. For Kate over at The Cracked Pot for turning me on to NaNoWriMo. I am still on track to finish by the end of the month. Actually, I have come to realize, my novel will probably not be finished by then, but I will have reached the necessary word count to be included in the winners’ circle — barring a catastrophic illness or being rear-ended while driving the Cavalier, of course. The novel itself is nothing to brag about. At this point, it’s really nothing to read; but at least I will have the bones of something that, maybe someday, I can make great. It feels good to accomplish something I’ve wanted to accomplish for years but have been too afraid to try.
Well, I hear Tank Boy up there, awake, so let me just zoom through a couple more things for which I am thankful:
4. my children — at least most days
5. my dad didn’t major in English, so there is at least one person in my family who doesn’t feel compelled to correct everyone’s grammar (the rest of us can be downright OCD about it — but only with each other)
6. my husband, for lots of reasons other than the Christmas tree thing
7. my health and the health of all my family, knock on wood.
8. my nose hairs don’t extend beyond my nostrils, so I never have to worry about finding those clippers from The Sharper Image under the tree
9. church, where I should be right now, and the freedom to go there — other than family, is there anything greater?
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says gobble gobble and hello. A talented newt, that Tewt.