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mamajoanThe white lights on the back of my car that are supposed to turn on when I shift into reverse are not working. A friendly gentleman informed me of this the other day when I was parking. So I immediately (where "immediately" means "on the next available weekend day") took the car off to my mom's mechanic, where they have known me since I was a little kid; and the "new guy" Paul, who has probably been there about ten years and is about my age and yet calls me "honey" as if he were ninety, had a look.
Unfortunately, Paul could not find the source of the problem. He checked the obvious things: the lightbulbs and the fuse; but these were fine. So he told me to come back on a non-weekend morning and leave the car for a more thorough investigation. Meanwhile, though, he also gave me my inspection sticker (which he most likely oughtn't, but that's why you go to your mom's mechanic who has known you forever). So at least that's one more thing I don't have to worry about. But I'm still fretting about the reverse lights. It makes me nervous to be without them, although given that my mom gave me the phone-equivalent of a blank look when I mentioned them, perhaps they aren't as big a deal to everyone else. I dunno.
More worrisome yet is the fact that this latest set of frost-heave cycles has done for the front steps on our house. The frost-heave cycle is what happens when the ground freezes and then thaws repeatedly, causing rock and cement of all kinds to crack, buckle, and otherwise lose structural integrity. So now the stone slabs that used to be our stairs are cracking and breaking off, and in fact the lowest one is unstable enough that I have to lift the kids over it. This is double-plus-ungood. And I fear that the cost of fixing/replacing the stairs is going to wipe out my entire beautiful tax refund (which got direct-deposited on Friday, btw, much to my excitement). sigh.
In lighter news, I've now whipped through the first three Temeraire books by Naomi Novik, and alas now I have to waitimpatiently for my mom to finish #4. O waiting! wherefore art thou? At least I have Mary Roach and Stiff to keep me going. How can you not love a woman who writes books called Stiff (about death) and Bonk (about sex)? If Mary Roach writes a book about taxes, what will it be called? Discuss.
An interesting side-effect of reading Naomi Novik's work is that now I find every LJ entry I mentally compose (and I mentally compose a LOT of LJ entries) to be falling into that particular style of writing; it is singularly distinctive and not difficult to identify or emulate; making liberal use, as it tends generally to do, of the semicolon; which practice I cannot in good faith claim to abhor, that being indeed to my mind one of the noblest and most utile, if oft-abused and -misused, of all the punctuation marks. It is unfortunate indeed, moreover, that the aforementioned mark lends itself so readily to the creation of overlong run-on sentences, bidding fair to exhaust the reader; notwithstanding the phrases themselves are without question nicely formed and pleasing to behold. If in any way my comments herein should act to present an unkind impression of Ms. Novik's abilities or skills, or to imply that I find her style of composition less than pleasing, I beg you pardon me; my intentions are entirely otherwise; such an impression rather must belie the lateness of the hour and inadvisability of myself attempting to craft an LJ entry in such conditions. I remain as always your humble servant, etc., etc.
Unfortunately, Paul could not find the source of the problem. He checked the obvious things: the lightbulbs and the fuse; but these were fine. So he told me to come back on a non-weekend morning and leave the car for a more thorough investigation. Meanwhile, though, he also gave me my inspection sticker (which he most likely oughtn't, but that's why you go to your mom's mechanic who has known you forever). So at least that's one more thing I don't have to worry about. But I'm still fretting about the reverse lights. It makes me nervous to be without them, although given that my mom gave me the phone-equivalent of a blank look when I mentioned them, perhaps they aren't as big a deal to everyone else. I dunno.
More worrisome yet is the fact that this latest set of frost-heave cycles has done for the front steps on our house. The frost-heave cycle is what happens when the ground freezes and then thaws repeatedly, causing rock and cement of all kinds to crack, buckle, and otherwise lose structural integrity. So now the stone slabs that used to be our stairs are cracking and breaking off, and in fact the lowest one is unstable enough that I have to lift the kids over it. This is double-plus-ungood. And I fear that the cost of fixing/replacing the stairs is going to wipe out my entire beautiful tax refund (which got direct-deposited on Friday, btw, much to my excitement). sigh.
In lighter news, I've now whipped through the first three Temeraire books by Naomi Novik, and alas now I have to wait
An interesting side-effect of reading Naomi Novik's work is that now I find every LJ entry I mentally compose (and I mentally compose a LOT of LJ entries) to be falling into that particular style of writing; it is singularly distinctive and not difficult to identify or emulate; making liberal use, as it tends generally to do, of the semicolon; which practice I cannot in good faith claim to abhor, that being indeed to my mind one of the noblest and most utile, if oft-abused and -misused, of all the punctuation marks. It is unfortunate indeed, moreover, that the aforementioned mark lends itself so readily to the creation of overlong run-on sentences, bidding fair to exhaust the reader; notwithstanding the phrases themselves are without question nicely formed and pleasing to behold. If in any way my comments herein should act to present an unkind impression of Ms. Novik's abilities or skills, or to imply that I find her style of composition less than pleasing, I beg you pardon me; my intentions are entirely otherwise; such an impression rather must belie the lateness of the hour and inadvisability of myself attempting to craft an LJ entry in such conditions. I remain as always your humble servant, etc., etc.
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