Only a little over 50 weeks until I get to go back to Montreat.

Timing has been strange lately. For instance, when we were driving on the trip, on a back road, I asked Mike some question, and he turned to look at me to answer, and at that precise moment, when he turned to look at yours truly, the tire hit a giant pothole. The kind that makes a noise that makes you wonder if your car is going to disintegrate in about .09 seconds.

So, naturally, I was uneasy for a while, I thought the axle had been severed in two. Or three or four. Mike wasn't too worried. A while later I said, WHAT'S THAT "HEH, HEH, HEH" NOISE? Kind of a breathy, but even, releasing of air. You have to realize, I've had my unfun share of car disasters resulting in uncommon sounds. I might have to blog about a couple of bizarre mishaps that are, basically, unbelievable.

So, back to heh, heh, heh. I just KNEW some vital organ of the car had been punctured or perforated or left to be presumed dead. After a second Mike goes, IT'S JAZZI! And it was. Jazzi was panting, perched with her hind legs on the back seat and her front paws resting on the back end of the front seat divider -- close enough to be heard, but not seen, and far enough away to be easily mistaken for signs of the death of the radiator, car, trip.

Whew, that was a close call.

Then, of course, on the way home, around Gainesville, the sky was inky black. We stopped at Publix for a hoagie. We ate it in the car under an oak tree. In close view of a tent selling fireworks. I also bought lemonade. That was our 4th of July celebration. After that soul-stirring event, we stopped for gas. The moment Mike plugged the gas faucet into the car, his car phone rang. Yeah, it was the credit card lady announcing that there was suspicious activity posted on the card recently. This is technology that is beyond me, I mean, come on, it's technology. You have to understand, this is the company car, it's way out of reach. So, this woman is talking into the air and I'm all crazy someone stole the credit card and life is now over as we know it, and Mike is pumping gas and it's going to start raining cats and dogs in about 2 seconds, oh yeah, and Mike is busy talking to some motorcycle gangster who is donning his wet suit. Good timing, because of course I was not able to handle the call. Never call me in an emergency, remember?

Then, we get home and there are 18 million messages from people who want to buy our car. Now, please, understand, the car has been for sale for a couple of months by now, and we've had calls. But not like this. One man with an accent must have called 8 times. VE VANT VEZE CAR, he insisted. So, Mike calls him back and he says, VE VOUGHT ANOVER CAR, VE VANTED YOUR CAR, BUT VE COULD NOT VAIT. Good timing. But you all know, how it worked out in the end.

Well, see, this is the way things are going lately, and there are more examples, but, lucky you, I can't vevemver vem vight now.

Tally-ho,
KEM