The day started out so well.
I woke up on my own time, played around with the computer, putzed around, and took a shower. Okay. Time to get something done. I drive over to the motor vehicle department building to cancel the tag on the Honda. That goes well.
It was almost noon so I stop at Zaxby’s for lunch.
Since the garage that I always go to is just around the corner, I drive over there to ask Kenny some questions. Why did the engine light come on and stay on? “Oh, there’s a lot of reasons that happens. As long as it’s not blinking, you’re okay.” I see. A light just to make you nervous. Next question. How do you read the dipstick which is so long I have to pull it out hand-over-fist like I’m bringing a boat in to dock? (It’s different than any other I’ve had.) Kenny cheerfully shows me how to read it. Yay! The van hasn’t burned any oil since I’ve had it! Happy me. I climb into the van to leave.
That’s when the day takes a downward turn.
A burly, white-bearded man sees me get into the van — little ol’ helpless gramma that I am — and he starts doing the two-handed back-up signal. Oh, pleeeeze. I ignore him and use my two, wonderfully big, side mirrors (with convex circles!) to back out. Behind me on the other side of the one-lane parking area is a shiny, little, red car.
Suddenly I hear yelling.
At about the same time, still looking back and forth at both mirrors, I apply the brakes and stop. The bearded guy is yelling at me! I push the button to roll down the window.
“DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?!!!” he screams while showing me the stop signal with his palms.
“WHEN SOMEBODY TELLS YOU TO STOP, YOU STOP!!!!
I kept my cool and asked, “Did I hit the car?” I knew I hadn’t.
He defiantly thrust his bearded face forward and put his thumb and finger up in the sign that shows about an inch. As if I was an inch from hitting the car. I’m nipping this guy in the bud, I thought.
“Hey, buddy! Did I ask you for your help? Huh? Did I? There’s a reason I have all these mirrors. Ok?”
I pull out and don’t look back.
But my mood has darkened. If I’m driving around in this big van, especially if I’m pulling a travel trailer behind it, I’m going to run into guys who want to take over and tell me what to do. Most of the time it is helpful and I often appreciate it. I just don’t like strangers SCREAMING at me!
I’m not letting this little incident ruin my day.
Off I go to “Trailers and Hitches” in Winder, Georgia. I decide to take the scenic route.
Remembering my blog, I stop and take photos of things typical of rural Georgia.
The visit with the hitch guy, Chris, is productive. I’ll tell you all about it soon. For now, I’ll just say I made an appointment for next Wednesday. I head for home. On the way I see another “Georgia” photo opportunity, so I pull over and stop the van.
Back in the van, I turn the key and . . . nothing. The dash indicators are all fine. Battery at 14. Nothing is overheating. After several tries, I walk to a produce stand up the road, — It’s at least 95 degrees — buy some Bing Cherry Cider, and ask the young man behind the counter, Matthew, if he knows anyone who can help me with a jump start. He finds his mother to cover for him, he gets his power-pack jumpstarter he uses for his jetski, and we walk back to the van. No good. He gets his truck, hooks up the cables, and tries again. Nothing.
Back to the produce stand. Call the tow truck. Wait and sweat. Tow truck comes. I tell him to take me to the nearest garage. We get to the garage, I write a check for $55 and . . . you know what’s coming . . .
It starts right up! That’s right, folks! Purring like a kitten!
Stay with me now. I know you’ve read this all before in a previous post. I drive it back over to Kenny at the garage. He goes out to the van and starts it several times. He comes back and says, “The needle on the battery indicator keeps fluctuating when it’s starting. I’m going to put another battery in. You drive it for a few days and we’ll see if that takes care of it.” (No charge).
Now everything looks dark.
I can’t be driving around in the desert in a vehicle I can’t trust. Here I am ready to spend a whole lot of money on a tow hitch and brake controller. Woe is me.
As soon as I’m in the house I grab the laptop and a glass of water and go to rvsue and her canine crew. Seven comments! Happy comments! Encouraging comments! I set about writing my replies and before long the day is bright again.