Car troubles and travels

Dealing with car issues this week and thinking back to the trips I’ve taken where there were the inevitable car trouble. Those trips were stressful but looking back, some of the stories that we can tell today in some ways make it kind of worth having the troubles we had.

Mom and I can speak to the road trip we took cross-country to meet up with my dad and brother in Indiana. Just a day or two in and there was car trouble. We spent half the day in New Mexico waiting for a part to be installed before we could get on the road to our next destination. I don’t remember much about this day but mom has talked about this day on several occasions. She talks about the stress of the wait to get going again and the worry of the repair cost eating up the budget we had for the trip. For me, I was nine or ten years old at the time, so it was a lot of boredom and waiting before we could keep going.

Later…much later I went on a road trip with my friends to California and none of us had cars that would handle the trip. At least not that we knew. So we decided it would be cheaper to split the cost of a rental car instead of driving one of our own. Going to get the rental car however, was a journey in itself.  We took my car to the rental place and the cooling system was out of whack. Unfortunately we hit traffic on the way. My car was fine temperature-wise…as long as we kept moving. The minute we hit traffic and were at a standstill, the car would start to overheat superfast. Luckily the person in the car with me knew a work around and had me put my car in neutral and press the gas pedal. This worked like a charm and kept my car cooling itself while we sat still. It was a challenge sitting in traffic, stressful, trying to keep the car cool and running. Thankfully we eventually made it to the rental shop but it was not a fun journey.

Flagstaff…summertime….it’s hot…yes in Flagstaff, it was hot. The car stopped running at the first traffic light into the town. Mom stays behind the wheel while my brother, Brad, and I climb out and push the car through the light and off the road. We started pushing uphill a little just trying to get through the traffic light to make a left, then the car started on a decline and we went from pushing the car, to running with the car, to chasing the car just trying to keep up. I remember praying that no one would hit the car and then when the car left us in the dust coasting down the hill, I started to worry about us getting hit.

Then the mother of all car trouble….the day before Ireland. Obviously this car wouldn’t be coming with us but getting ready for a trip, on a hot day in Phoenix, with a car that is breaking is not an ideal situation. We had to get things finalized when mom’s car rebelled and started to overheat. I showed mom the trick to keep the car cool in traffic but there was also an issue with shifting. I noticed after a while that her car had a tap-shift override so we were able to get the car back on the road and head to the mechanic that day. Unfortunately mom didn’t know how to work the tap shift and I didn’t know how to time when to shift gears since I’ve never really driven a standard car.  So our journey to the mechanic involved her saying to me “Now” when it was time to shift gears and I would work the tap-shift. On the surface streets of Phoenix heading into rush hour, the conversation was pretty much…green light “Now” tap, “Now” tap, “Now” tap. Red light, tap tap tap. Green light “now” tap, “now” tap….well you get the picture. We made it to the mechanic and then began the amazing car juggle to get ourselves transportation until we left.

It doesn’t seem fun at the time dealing with those car issues but looking back. I have to laugh at some of the trips and the troubles. Brad and I chasing after the runaway car, mom is steering and had no idea we couldn’t keep up, she was just aiming for the parking lot. The interesting “Now” tap communication with mom for 45 minutes. The rental car experiences while dealing with the troubles on our own cars. All make for interesting and in some cases fun memories.

Waterford...a sneak peak

Today I thought I'd share a sneak peak of what I'm writing for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the tour of the Waterford Factory in Ireland that Mom and I took.  Be kind, this is an unedited draft.

September 24, 2013

(a.k.a. A bit o’ Irish…single malt)

We plugged in the directions from the B&B to the Waterford factory on Molly and off we went to the tour. We found the factory easily enough, parking was a bit more challenging, and we circled around a couple times before we happened on a paid parking lot and settled on that for our parking. We made sure to put in enough time so that we could enjoy ourselves on our time remaining in Waterford. As we wandered over to the factory, we saw the parking lot sat right on the riverfront and so we took several pictures of the river, correction, mom took lots of pictures of the river. We also caught a couple of swans floating on the water. They looked so regal and beautiful moving effortlessly over the water. It was lovely to see. We kept going though as we needed to pick up some tickets for a tour of the factory. We crossed to the front of the Waterford building and it…was…amazing. Shimmering beauty of crystal could be seen in their showroom. Mom stopped to get pictures, eager to see more I kept moving. Inside it was all I could do to stay still and to stand in line to get our tickets for the tour. By the time I made it to the counter, mom had made it inside and was with me to purchase her ticket. It would be forty-five minutes before we would be able to start on the tour but that was fine with me. I could take the time to drool over the showroom and decide what I would buy after. I knew that no matter what I’d be buying something here. This was something I’d always wanted to do and I was so excited to finally be doing it. I wandered the showroom. Came across a massive grandfather clock that was made entirely of Waterford crystal. I could only imagine just how heavy this thing would be. We saw another piece, a large crystal bear that was priced at 30,000 Euro (about $31,765 American).

It was awesome to see these massive pieces. They had an entire dining table set up. The tables and chairs were of clear material, not crystal but I think it was a resin, it was definitely too nice to be plastic. The settings on the table were all of Waterford crystal and shining silver flatware. The center of the display boasted a tall flower vase with white and yellow flowers spilling over the top. I loved this view and was in my own little moment of bliss. I hate to admit it, but after looking over the displays and fawning over the pieces of intricate crystal I became restless, I was ready to start the tour. Finally the announcement came on calling those with tickets to gather at the starting point for the tour. Mom and I met up over in the area as she’d gone back outside for more pictures of the front of the building. Our tour guide came up and had all the personality of a brick. He talked flatly and mumbled through the descriptions of the history of Waterford crystal before starting a video to mark the beginning of our tour. After the video we moved on into the backside of the factory and began the tour. We were shown the process from mold making to melting and forming. We watched as the glassmakers worked the crystal on the pipes and heated the crystal in the gloryholes of the furnace making vase after vase with the same pattern. There were two main glassblowers making the vases and two assistance working with each glassblower. By this time, other than picking up a little piece of information here and there from the tour guide, I’d more or less tuned him out. He was pretty dry. As we continued on the tour we came across the marking area where a man was using a guide and a sharpie marker to mark the pattern on whiskey tumblers for the crystal cutters to follow. As he marked the glasses without thought, he began to banter with the tour guide. The guide picked up the tumbler and explained what they were saying the glasses were perfect for a “bit of Scotch,” “Or a bit of Irish” countered the other man. Then the guide began to almost wax poetic about the liquor that could go into the glasses. This was the most emotional I saw him get the entire tour. Saying over and over “singles malt, a bit of Irish, single malt” His eyes gazed off in the distance as if recalling a treasured memory. Eventually, he shook off the nostalgia and returned to the tour, deadened voice returning. We passed through the area of the glass cutters and saw some finished specialty pieces that were largely made off-site in a specialty area focused on custom orders. What we were seeing were the mass production items sold around the world and in their gift shop. The guide passed around a small finished but unpolished wine glass. It was interesting to see a glass that had the cuts and beauty but was dull still as they hadn’t made it shine yet. That was to be the last step. Mom and I looked over the pieces of specialty, we saw a Cinderella style carriage pulled by horses, a large football that would be an award for players of the NFL. I hovered over a model of the People’s choice award and suddenly the tour guide was next to us and picked it up and handed it to me and mom in spite of the “DO NOT TOUCH” signs that were everywhere around the pieces. He took mom’s camera and got a picture of the two of us holding the award. That was such a moment to me. After, very delicately, putting the award back down, taking extreme care not to break it we moved along with the group. I was still flying from holding that massively heavy piece of crystal when we saw the alst item of the tour. It was a replica in crystal from 9/11. The pieces of the trade center that many remember seeing stick up from the wreckage flanked an image carved into a solid piece of crystal. The image was of the firefighters carrying the priest who had died in the tragedy of 9/11. Many of us who passed this piece paused, I felt like crying at the beauty and sadness of this piece. As an American, I felt honored that the Waterford factory would recognize this tragedy with such a beautiful and delicate piece of crystal. Sobered and still a little emotional we moved through the door and back into the showroom. 

A Journey of the Mind

Today marks my second day of participation in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) for 2016 and I'm excited about my writing as it will be about something I love to write about. Ireland! I will be writing on the three weeks of adventure, scares, and fun for the next several days until November 30th or 50,000 words. I'm excited to once again traverse the green hills, stand at the edge of the high rocky cliffs, and stand on the beach listening to the waves crash on the shore. It'll be fun to relive driving on the wrong side of the road on the wrong side of the car. I get to rehash conversations and fun arguments with the taxi drivers we were lucky enough to have. I get to bounce along on a horse-drawn-cart ridge with a tour guide who happily pointed out things and taught me Irish as we went along.  I get to look down from the second level of a double deck bus at the streets of Dublin as I watch cars, trains, bicyclists, and pedestrians whoosh past. I get to hear terms I'd longed to hear my whole life like: cuppa tea, get some petrol, or use the lift. All memories for me now but a dream come to life in the experience. Now as I write, I return to those travels and once again will get to live the dream. Wish me luck!

Indiana in the Fall

I remember one year going to Indiana in the fall. It was early yet so the trees were still in the midst of changing. It was a lovely combination of colors. Brilliant greens that had yet to give way to the fall change amidst the bright oranges, reds, and yellows of the changing trees.  We drove one day, down to Nashville, Indiana, a small picturesque town about an hour south of Indianapolis. For me, visiting this small town was much like stepping onto the set of Gilmore Girls (a favorite show of mine). I stood on the gazebo and observed people moving about with cameras, busily catching the images. I remember hearing the church bells chime the hour in a singsong melody. Vivid flower pots teeming with flowers mixed in with fall decoration and hay bales. 

I stood with my mom, who is also a fan of Gilmore Girls, and laughed with her on how we almost expected certain characters to come bustling across the center of town. Perhaps, Lorelai would go racing toward the diner for yet another cup of coffee. Maybe Rory and Lane would walk up onto the Gazebo and sit for a chat. I joked with mom that I almost expected Taylor Doose to come running up when we hovered over a plaque commemorating the first public water pump for the town. We paused to take a picture on the gazebo, mom and I, to commemorate that moment in time. Mother and daughter, much like the show we enjoyed, relaxing, having fun in this small town that was just bursting with charm. It was such an enjoyable and memorable day. Certainly a place that’s marked on my list for another visit. Perhaps, I’ll go when it’s off season, find a small B&B. Who knows maybe I’ll run into a few unique characters then too?

A different kind of journey

Today in honor of my dad, I wish to share a story of a different kind of journey. Today was the day I lost my dad. It was close to sunset and my family and I watched him struggle to breathe knowing it wouldn't be much longer before it stopped. We cried quietly and held each other. My step-mom stroked his head and held his hand when he took his last breath. I remember how quiet the room got. We all just stopped, staring in wonder at how different the room felt. He wasn't there.

I remember clearly walking to the window where the blinds had been shut and I opened them. I was thinking about Italy and how the literal translation of giving birth means to bring to the light. I stared out the window, a little numb and thinking that dad had just been born in a different way. He had transitions from life to death but now in the hands of his angels. I watched the sun slowly set and could almost picture him crossing into the light, entering into a new journey. I heard the quiet crying behind me while a couple family members shared a few stories of his life. We laughed a little, cried more. I stayed by the window and as the sun lowered behind the horizon, I murmured quietly to dad, "welcome to the light."

A year ago

A year ago today I was preparing to go on my epic road trip. At this point, reservations were made, destinations decided, and the countdown had begun. Now my focus turned to getting ahead in school so I could leave the classwork at home for the week.

I spent my days pushing my love for reading to its very limits. Polishing off the stories, Jane Eyre, Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights, Rebecca, Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles, and more. Four-hundred pages polished off in two days then followed with an essay discussing the book. It was an amazing journey through the pages of these books. As part of me wished dimly to be able to participate in National Novel Writing Month, the thought formed and then vanished as quickly as it formed as I traveled across the moors in Sherlock Holmes. I traveled the countryside with Jane Eyre as she searched for a new home. I tip toed through the halls with the woman who learned about the despicable Rebecca and followed Victor Frankenstein around the countryside as he chased down the monster he created. As I prepared for my journey across Northern California, I traveled in my head following the stories of the characters I grew to love, enjoy, or despise (Victor, I'm looking at you, you spineless weenie).  It was a journey I loved taking and cannot wait until I have more free time. Perhaps, I'll make a visit back to see Jane Eyre again, slower this time, more enjoyable to soak in all the amazing details brought to the pages by Charlotte Bronte.

Fall Vacation

As I enjoy my first hot apple cider of the fall, I can't help but think back to my childhood when my parents, brother, and I would head to Flagstaff for the week of Thanksgiving. I so loved the idea of missing the entire school week instead of just the two days, even if it meant taking homework packets with us to Flagstaff. We would spend the week exploring the timeshare, going to the tennis courts to play terribly executed games, playing games of mini golf and spending time at the clubhouse drinking hot cocoa and cider. It was a break from the normal daily routine, with the exception of the homework packets. When we finished the work we had to complete each day, my brother and I would tear off like freed convicts to once again resume the explorations of the timeshare.

More often than not, dad would come up to join us after work on Wednesday, he had to work so would miss the first part of the week. When he arrived, it was so exciting, it was almost time for Thanksgiving. I always knew that when I woke on Thursday morning, the wonderful aromas of a special Thanksgiving dinner would already be wafting in the air. Mom would fix her special breakfast strata and I would eat breakfast, smelling the stuffing and wishing it was already time for dinner. I loved watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, something I still love doing today, and feeling that special closeness of family on that lovely holiday.