Eugene the Van

We were a couple of miles from home when the stupid orange-yellow light came on. Out of gas. I told Anna to grab my purse, the one gas station between here and there was coming up. No purse. I did, however, have the dry cleaning bag full of my husband's dirty dress shirts. Evidently, my mind was on a slight blip. I didn't think that the gas station takes dirty laundry in exchange for gas, but that's an interesting concept. What to do? The drive to Anna's art class is about 20 minutes, perhaps 15 miles give or take, and then back. My light comes on when I have about 30 miles left of gas. If I went home, she'd be very late for class.

Anna had only one paper dollar on her, but then remembered she might have some quarters. Digging around in her purse, she came up with three more dollars. That'll do it, I said, and continued on our journey. After dropping her off, I carefully pumped four dollars, not even two gallons, but enough to get me home. I went in to pay with my change, feeling like white trash driving a van with nearly 200,000 miles on it and paying with quarters. But, I didn't have to walk.

Speaking of Eugene (the van), we had briefly considered turning him in for the clunker program. Even with the rebate, we decided that to get a vehicle big enough to haul the girls back and forth to college in the coming years, and with needing to have extra vehicles for two extra drivers, it was not economically feasible, given the price of new cars. It would be better to get a newer used one (aren't you proud of us, Dave Ramsey?).

Perhaps we should not have anthropomorphized our van, and given him a name, but we all felt we could not turn him in to be euthanized. That is just wrong! Just as a wedding ring is not just a gold band, neither is Eugene just a trashed old van. Many, many hours have been spent in that van, and to know that it would be injected and silenced for ever, and then crushed! Well, not going to happen. William, eavesdropping on the whole conversation, asked if the people would take Eugene, fix him up and return him to us. I hadn't the heart to tell him that the van would be smashed.

Besides, having an old vehicle fits us right now. Dogs and kids pile in. Spill your drink? Oh, well, wipe it up. Smelly cleats, no problem. Dog throws up? Get a towel. New vehicle response, "(not printable)"

Notes:
My busy season is about to start, visiting colleges and starting some more formal schooling for everyone.

Yesterday, William and I spotted a male luna moth.