Dashing Not At All
We've a bottle brush tree cloaked in silly ornaments that range from a cast brass Eifel tower to a stapled paper pickle to a hastily sketched moose with mistletoe that I cranked out in 1981 when it would have made more sense to light the tree afire for extra heat 'cause I sure didn't have enough to pay for the regular stuff.
Heat, that would be. Not mistletoe. Neither moose.
Moose in fact is relatively affordable and apart from the fact that they tend to charge their herders and trample them to death on a regular basis, moose could be the other red meat.
So basking in the glow of this cobbled-together Christmas of bottle brush trees, light up deer and bewreathed sleds on the front porch I am counting the one blessing that I am most thankful for this year.
I ain't driving anywhere.
Bunny afficionados, this December 24, 25, 26 and I venture to say 27 I am going no where in a motor vehicle. My cottony ass is staying right here in Fungus County. I wish you the same but for those of you that are travelling, godspeed, safe journey and hurry home soon.
That in mind, I present my top five trips from hell.
5) An accumulation of several trips to Brookyn: Wherein a radiator hose blew out on Tonnelle Avenue somewhere near East Fuck, NJ and we abandoned the car to walk to the PATH station in Jersey City for fear of being late. Or in Holland Tunnel traffic the six week old car overheated in forty degree weather because the auto monkey who had serviced it last had disconnected a temperature sensor to get his simian paw around the oil filter. Or where, returning from a wedding reception somewhere in the Bronx, we get stuck in cross Bronx traffic at 12.30 am in ninety degree heat and the same vehicle that boiled over at the Holland starts having hot flashes so we drive to Newburgh just to get some air flowing before heading back south and home.
4) The tall ships have sailed up Narragannsett bay and everybody from Maine to West Virginia is on US 1 to catch an eyeful. In these pre-internet days I happily cruise down south for lunch and spend most of Sunday in a parking lot near Wal-Mart.
3) Last Thursday's drive home. Ok, so we had our first snow. Really just little more than a dusting but when on the way to work, the radio forecast says "really just little more than a dusting" I admonish myself for not immediately turning back for home, putting Kathy (the car, more on a future bunny) in the garage and switching out for the pickup truck. Nope, I'm going to watch the skies and once some flakes come down, I'll head home. Well, some flakes came down and I quickly found out how a 325 hp rear wheel drive performance car performs in snow. That is to say, not at all. Fortunately I was able to channel my inner John Wayne on one incline: Ya lissen to me Pilgrim! I don't care if I have to feather you out and run you to the redline, or if I dump you in first and feed you all the gas you want: You're gettin' up this hill.
2) Thanksgiving, late eighties. Wherein despite the inch an hour snowfall, we jumped into the car and slogged our way from north Jersey to somewhere in New England for Thanksgiving. Highlights included Jersey plowing one hundred yards out from their tollbooths and no more, staying in anybody's tracks across Connecticut for four hours and taking a windshield full of snow passing a plow uphill because 15 mph with twelve miles to go didn't cut it anymore. Hope the wipers can deal with this before we hit the ditch.
1) Taking Ruby home. I'd link this if I were ambitious but I'm not. You're going to have to find it yourselves. Long and the short of it we tranquilized a cat to take him on a 4 hour ride and between the temperature dropping twenty degrees, the cat coming off kitty downers early and the muffler falling off the car, let's just say that driving into the Atlantic was an attractive option at more than one moment of that journey.
Safe travels, all. Best wishes that you are all where you want to be, with whom you want to be and basking in the achievements of a very long year.
Merry Christmas.
Bunny on.
Heat, that would be. Not mistletoe. Neither moose.
Moose in fact is relatively affordable and apart from the fact that they tend to charge their herders and trample them to death on a regular basis, moose could be the other red meat.
So basking in the glow of this cobbled-together Christmas of bottle brush trees, light up deer and bewreathed sleds on the front porch I am counting the one blessing that I am most thankful for this year.
I ain't driving anywhere.
Bunny afficionados, this December 24, 25, 26 and I venture to say 27 I am going no where in a motor vehicle. My cottony ass is staying right here in Fungus County. I wish you the same but for those of you that are travelling, godspeed, safe journey and hurry home soon.
That in mind, I present my top five trips from hell.
5) An accumulation of several trips to Brookyn: Wherein a radiator hose blew out on Tonnelle Avenue somewhere near East Fuck, NJ and we abandoned the car to walk to the PATH station in Jersey City for fear of being late. Or in Holland Tunnel traffic the six week old car overheated in forty degree weather because the auto monkey who had serviced it last had disconnected a temperature sensor to get his simian paw around the oil filter. Or where, returning from a wedding reception somewhere in the Bronx, we get stuck in cross Bronx traffic at 12.30 am in ninety degree heat and the same vehicle that boiled over at the Holland starts having hot flashes so we drive to Newburgh just to get some air flowing before heading back south and home.
4) The tall ships have sailed up Narragannsett bay and everybody from Maine to West Virginia is on US 1 to catch an eyeful. In these pre-internet days I happily cruise down south for lunch and spend most of Sunday in a parking lot near Wal-Mart.
3) Last Thursday's drive home. Ok, so we had our first snow. Really just little more than a dusting but when on the way to work, the radio forecast says "really just little more than a dusting" I admonish myself for not immediately turning back for home, putting Kathy (the car, more on a future bunny) in the garage and switching out for the pickup truck. Nope, I'm going to watch the skies and once some flakes come down, I'll head home. Well, some flakes came down and I quickly found out how a 325 hp rear wheel drive performance car performs in snow. That is to say, not at all. Fortunately I was able to channel my inner John Wayne on one incline: Ya lissen to me Pilgrim! I don't care if I have to feather you out and run you to the redline, or if I dump you in first and feed you all the gas you want: You're gettin' up this hill.
2) Thanksgiving, late eighties. Wherein despite the inch an hour snowfall, we jumped into the car and slogged our way from north Jersey to somewhere in New England for Thanksgiving. Highlights included Jersey plowing one hundred yards out from their tollbooths and no more, staying in anybody's tracks across Connecticut for four hours and taking a windshield full of snow passing a plow uphill because 15 mph with twelve miles to go didn't cut it anymore. Hope the wipers can deal with this before we hit the ditch.
1) Taking Ruby home. I'd link this if I were ambitious but I'm not. You're going to have to find it yourselves. Long and the short of it we tranquilized a cat to take him on a 4 hour ride and between the temperature dropping twenty degrees, the cat coming off kitty downers early and the muffler falling off the car, let's just say that driving into the Atlantic was an attractive option at more than one moment of that journey.
Safe travels, all. Best wishes that you are all where you want to be, with whom you want to be and basking in the achievements of a very long year.
Merry Christmas.
Bunny on.
2 Comments:
i'm jealous. very very very jealous. i'll be packing up TWO cats for the (best case) 7 hour drive home for christmas, on one of the busiest, most hazardous stretches of highway in the country. (i'll pass over the spot where mm lost his parents.)
thankfully, petunia is much better equipped to handle the weather than kathy.
merry christmas, bunny.
Well, my hubby works for a Major Airline.
So you know what that means.
We'll be staying home. ;)
Merry Christmas, Old Bun. Stay warm, and string some popcorn for the bottle brush tree.
XO Thim
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