Today’s been one of those days. All told, it was a good day. But I’m completely whipped.
About every-other Saturday (probably a little less frequent than that), I drive to Ithaca, NY for a fencing lesson (or two or three). It’s about a two hour drive one way, and uses up at least six hours of my Saturday, so I don’t do it every week, but whenever time, energy, and weather permits.
Today was one of those Saturdays when I decided that I’d make the trip.
It started with me getting up at 8am so that I could calmly prepare to leave for Ithaca at 9am, which gets me to the 11am lesson right on time. For some, that might be ‘getting up early,’ but for me, staying in bed until 8 represents sleeping in just a little. That went fine.
The drive was ok. The weather was damp and a little rainy, but a definite improvement over the sub-zero windchills of last week. I took my usual break at about halfway along the drive. No biggie…
Only that my car didn’t want to start when I got back to it. It’d turn over, but it wouldn’t catch. I tried off and on for about five minutes then finally called the husband for advice. Of course, as soon as I had him on the phone, the car started.
For a moment, I considered just driving home. Then I decided to continue on.
The lesson (or lessons) were great. It was 2.5 hours of fencing bliss. I’m pretty sore from the work today. There was lots of footwork, and, y’know, I’m feeling my age just a little.
When classes were over I went to my car. It started with a little argument. It started. I was relieved. I could go home.
I’d made it maybe 20 or 25 miles when the strangest thing happened. The engine just cut off. It just died. The car kept moving, but it decelerated rapidly. It took me a while to figure out that it was no longer running.
It rolled to a stop next to a gas station (thankfully). One of the guys there helped me push it into the parking lot, because it would not start. I tried off and on for a half an hour, and it wouldn’t go.
By then, I’d already called the husband, and he was on his way to help. He wouldn’t arrive for at least an hour, so I took a walk.
I try to keep a general philosophy of making lemonade whenever life gives me lemons. I could have sat in the car and whined. I could have done any number of things. I decided to be patient and get myself just a bit more exercise. An hour long walk was just the thing.
I kinda wish I’d’ve taken some pictures along the way. I passed an old cemetery, that just begged to be photographed. There was a trashed car that would have been a neat subject. There was also this over-grown barn, hay shelter, building (I’m sure there’s a technical term that I don’t know), that was full of old farming equipment. That would have been neat to photograph.
But instead, I just walked and took in the scenery.
I got back to the car and waited another half hour before my husband arrived.
And wouldn’t you know it? The car started instantly when he got in.
Well, we’re no fools. We drove it straight home. We didn’t stop for a snack, or to use the bathroom or anything. The car was running. We weren’t about to shut it off.
It was a wise decision.
I write this while lounging in my oh-so-comfortable bed. The car is now parked behind the house. We don’t know what’s wrong with it. We don’t care. It’s home. I’m home.
What an unexpectedly tiring day!