Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Dear Kids,
      I’m stuck at home without a car, it’s so cold outside (maybe below zero again–who knows) and I’ve got the January blahs. But things always change. They don’t always get better, but they always change.
      The car? Our nice Windstar, with so many thousands of miles of fun on it, may be on its last legs (or wheels). Right now it has a hole in the radiator, and it’s leaking antifreeze. It’s up at Bill and Randy’s, being evaluated. If the repairs are too much, we’ll say goodbye to it and look for another minivan. Probably a Toyota or a Honda. We’re open to suggestions. John faxed us some info about car reliability, but I haven’t read over it yet.
      And Donna’s new car: two days after she bought it, she was out in the middle of nowhere (near Henefer, on I-84) when the muffler fell off. She pulled over, and luckily, two good Samaritans stopped behind her and helped her rig it up so she could at least drive it back to the dealer. First they tried to say they weren’t responsible, but eventually they put on an entire new exhaust system (charged her just $100) and everybody was satisfied. I hope that car goes many thousands of miles with no more trouble!
      Meanwhile, it’s so cold, who can stand it? Last Thursday night Nora and I were going to drive to Pocatello to go snowboarding with Vanessa on Friday, and we were so excited, but Nora’s kids were sick, and it was snowing. So we cancelled. Which was good, because Friday morning, it was 8 below in Pocatello, with a wind chill taking it down to -21. Who knows how cold it would have been up on the mountain! We’re hoping to reschedule. When it’s warmer. Above zero would be nice.
      Monica says people are even complaining about the cold in Tucson! In the daytime, it only gets up to 50, and it’s down around 30 at night! Poor babies. Ramona is still exploring her new territory. There are neighbor cats she looks at through the window. Monica’s doing great, too. Her daytime job is going so well (she even got raise!) that she’s quitting her nighttime restaurant job. What a normal life, only working 40 hours a week, instead of 60! She’s busy with wedding plans, too. She’s seeing a dressmaker this week about making her wedding dress. She wants something in between the skanky spaghetti-strap look, and the totally covered Celestial Elegance look. She promises her dress will be modest and classy.
      I just had our piano tuned yesterday, for the second time in a month. The first time, I answered a flyer that was left at our door. I called, and the guy said he could come that very day. I should have been suspicious. He arrived with his box of tools, and got to work on the piano. I could see right away that he wasn’t sure what he was doing, but it was three days before Christmas, and he looked like he really needed the money. (He looked like he might have been living at the homeless shelter.) So I let him finish, and paid him in cash (didn’t want him to have our checking account number.) The piano sounded awful, so I had to call our regular tuner, the Steinway guy (he works on high-end pianos, like Marla’s) and he was able to get it sounding good again. It cost a lot, for both tunings, so hopefully I learned a valuable lesson. Or at least, I played Sub-for-Santa for a guy down on his luck.
      Whenever I talk to Allen, I bring up the plan for the bike trip to Wendover. He thinks we need to do a shorter ride, first. (I think he wants me to see my limitations.)(Like the penguin trying to fly, in the despair poster.) So we’ve been talking about a bike trip to Antelope Island, riding across the causeway first, and then maybe around the island, if that’s where the road goes. Has anybody been there? Does anybody want to come along? It will probably be a Saturday in early spring, when the weather warms up. Let me know if you’re interested. I wish I could hop on my bike right now and go to the library. Too bad it’s so cold. Maybe Bill or Randy will call and say they fixed the Windstar, and it didn’t cost very much. I can dream.
      Lots of love, Mom