Buddha and my Car

I was a'drivin' and a'thinkin' and a'drivin' and a'thinkin'... I realized Buddha had his tree, I have my car. Both vehicles of meditation, except it's best I don't get too zoned out behind the wheel and I am much more attached to my car than Buddha was his tree. I expect he would have just found another tree if the original fell over, but cars aren't that easy -- especially cars that fit right and are good for meditating in.

On a sad note, my old Acura of 5 years (saw me through Elise's passing and a relationship start to finish, along with massive hours of thinkin' time) died beginning of this month. Engine seized up, though I did have the timing belt changed when it was due. Death of a mechanical friend. Double-hit, in that I didn't have back-up funds for another (thought it'd run through the winter fine, barring deer and accidents) and it really was an emotional loss (I know - I need more friends).

Frantic searching led me to the only aged Acura that was compatible with the original (now a parts car, kind of like an organ donor) in Minnesota. Had to wipe out a paycheck - so much for bills - and borrow to get it, but... It's 99.9% identical to Old Faithful! Same interior, knew right my coffee cup went; programmed the radio with barely a glance; switched glove box stuff and all personal items to their proper places, no confusion necessary. My mechanic exchanged a wheel bearing between them, and I rapidly put 2000 miles on it (2 weeks). We had to switch the thermostat this week, but I'd replaced OF's this spring, so it was only a few months used.

Car-lita (seemed suitable) has already had the 'hatch of Jaws' open for hauling home 2 large wood dog houses (thought the cats would like a spot for dry paws), I've already done a bunch of thinkin' in it, and now that some of the original parts are in it... If cars have spirit, then maybe the old one came along for the ride. (More hours alone in that car than I've spent with most people, I'm willing to admit it was a bit of a relationship - I talked, it listened; I daresay Something was listening!)

That's when I realized Buddha had his tree. Nowadays, he'd have to own it and pay property taxes on it and trim it off his neighbor's fence and cut it down if the city found it bugged, because if he just went out to sit under a tree, the DNR or someone would come along and order him off or haul him in as a loony-tune. Today's society would try to analyze him and test him for normalcy and try some med's on him or charge him for vagrancy (gotta love it when they fine you for not having money, hmm?). THIS is why I don't sit under a tree for a few weeks!

No one knows you're really thinking about big things when you're driving. Of course, getting to the big things usually means wading through a lot of little things, like losing one's car or what the devil to do about the furnace. If there really was a fiery hell below, it might not be a bad idea to tap into it about now; my luck, it's froze over. Sigh, will have to call the Furnace Doctor.

So what other small things might be going on in my small life, you ask? Will you never learn? There was a chance friend David might stop by, and since he's been going through chemo- and his immune system is none too strong, I figured I'd best gut the bathroom ceiling and its mold before he stopped by. Since the bathroom project has been planned some time, I did happen to have a spare tub in the yard and a cabinet-sink on the porch; made sense to do it all, then.

New tub (used from Habitat, $50 a year ago, been in the yard awhile) was a corner tub, of a size to barely fit. Managed to jam 'er in, barely, but the built-in step was inches away from 'the throne'. Awkward, in other words. Now, it wasn't a tub I could return and it seemed Val might object if I knocked her wall out and stuck a tub into her room, so it seemed to me removing the step was logical - and I had a jig-saw. Terry was trying to help with this project, and tends to do things a bit more professionally, but he's in My World now. While he hesitated, I figured couldn't do no harm and ripped off the step - the other option being put back the old tub, which we'd just taken out.

Ta-da! It fit. I will put some nice little woodwork across the gap, but it's in and working. Almost had to grease the sides, but one can usually coax a half-inch here or there if necessary - right?

And friend David couldn't stop by after all, due to bus schedules being weird; it's seven hours from Brainerd to Duluth by bus, but only three hours from Minneapolis to Duluth. This is because they route you back through Minneapolis to get to Duluth. And y'all were thinkin' I wasn't too logical!

On the slightly weird side, and yes - I know, Jim, LEAVE THE SUPERGLUE ALONE - but I'd bought a 3-pack. The one tube was a bit crushed and dry looking, so I stuck an oversized tack in it to prove it, and it was pretty much not-dry. Since I was holding it, I turned it upside down, then realized I had my good jeans on, so wisely held it away from me, which is when I superglued my toes together. Of course I reacted rapidly to a puddle of superglue running off my foot and peeled my digits apart before they stuck together in one big blob. Which is when I realized I best remove my fingers from my toes before I was glued in this position...

And I can say, I've never done that before!