Bottom of the Ninth
We ended our vacation at the Jersey Shore last Saturday and headed home bright and early. With 8 hours of driving ahead of us, we bid Long Beach Island a teary goodbye and headed north, toward Santa's workshop.
Motoring on the Garden State Parkway is like being in a race, whether you actually want to race or not. It was a constant barrage of maniacs flying up the left lane. Now, keep in mind, as of 2004 there were 4,339 NJ State Troopers. With 8.5 million people in NJ, it seems like a lot of people to watch yet it appears from the sitings that most of the watching is done from the Garden State Parkway. It is crawling with Smokies and yet drivers don't care??! They continue to do 80 or 90 mph and convey this attitude of, "Catch me if you can shithead!" Why is everyone in such a rush ----- on a Saturday morning??? Yoga? Go figure.
We continue on through NY, onto the George Washington Bridge, lower level, which I do not like. In the unlikely event the bridge collapses, I'd prefer to be on top.
Connecticut, yawn. Everything is so perfect, way to mess up the curve for the rest of the states Connecticut!
Massachusetts - another driving disaster. I've determined that these folks are not in a rush to get somewhere, they drive more like they are being chased. Rightfully so, someone should chase them, cuff them, stuff them and tear their licenses into little tiny pieces.
New Hampshire is so brief, but charms us with Lottery Tickets and Wicked Good Deals on Liquor.
Maine, ahhh, crossing the bridge we all put our windows down and take deep breaths - remember we went through Secaucus? - yikes!
We make it to Thursten and Lovey's house to retrieve Ashlee's Jeep Wrangler that was left there after transporting dogs to the kennel. Ashlee and Lauren spend some time bailing water from the jeep because the back windows were out - don't ask. They start her up and we're all off again. The girls in the Wrangler aka, The Blueberry and The Donald and I in the Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited (that's what separates him from the scuzballs like me) aka the Cranberry. We went about a mile and a half and traffic slowed down, people were going around vehicles ahead. We realized in horror that the blueberry was the vehicle everyone was maneuvering around. As we rode by Ashlee opened up the door and mouthed, "I'm sorry!" The front of the jeep was pushed back at the grill. The bumper was untouched. I'm not even sure what we said, but there was some foul language colorfully tossed about.
The Donald pulled over and we ran over to the girls. Ashlee was out of the vehicle and Lauren was still inside obviously too shaken to get out right away. The wife of a man I work with stopped to see if we needed help, how sweet that was. The women in front of Ashlee stopped short and, well, Ashlee didn't.
It's worth pointing out that we had a half hour window to retrieve 2 cats and 2 giant dogs from the kennel. I sent The Donald on and was even tempted to go with him until the ambulance pulled up and my maternal instincts, which I admit sometimes take a good rattling to get going, kicked in and I stayed.
I saw some sort of weed-pipe on the sidewalk and gave it a swift kick into the bushes. I knew it was there for a while, but let's not go down that path. Soon after I noticed I had a bleeding wound on my foot and prayed I wouldn't come down with AIDS, Fibromyalgia or whooping cough from a contaminated weed pipe.
About this time Ashlee had begun vomiting in the bushes and the nice fireman was patting her on the back concerned about concussions and the like. I was more worried about ED rearing his head to help 'cope', but didn't share that with Mr. Firefighter.
The Jeep was loaded on a tow truck, the reports written by the cute cop that I think Ashlee so go see and thank and perhaps offer to treat for lunch, or at least go dutch. Don arrived back with the dogs in the Cranberry. The cats were left at the kennel for another day - you can't have a loose cat and a Cat Hating Newfoundland in the same car with 4 people another dog and luggage. Somebody will end up in a bodybag. When we all piled into the car, the Newfie tried to go in the 'way back' and managed to lodge herself ala Pooh Bear style for the entire 45 minute ride.
We arrived home, unloaded and I made pork, green beans, rice, crescent rolls and decided we would all push down our stress with food.
The good news is everyone is okay. The blueberry may be unrepairable, but it's just a car. We'll get through this and I've come to realize, this is life. You roll with the punches, you take it in stride and enjoy when you can. We're building memories here.
ps. Bob the stalker that we unfriended sent me a note saying he realized we are all snobs for unfriending him, yeah, that's what happened. *sigh*
Motoring on the Garden State Parkway is like being in a race, whether you actually want to race or not. It was a constant barrage of maniacs flying up the left lane. Now, keep in mind, as of 2004 there were 4,339 NJ State Troopers. With 8.5 million people in NJ, it seems like a lot of people to watch yet it appears from the sitings that most of the watching is done from the Garden State Parkway. It is crawling with Smokies and yet drivers don't care??! They continue to do 80 or 90 mph and convey this attitude of, "Catch me if you can shithead!" Why is everyone in such a rush ----- on a Saturday morning??? Yoga? Go figure.
We continue on through NY, onto the George Washington Bridge, lower level, which I do not like. In the unlikely event the bridge collapses, I'd prefer to be on top.
Connecticut, yawn. Everything is so perfect, way to mess up the curve for the rest of the states Connecticut!
Massachusetts - another driving disaster. I've determined that these folks are not in a rush to get somewhere, they drive more like they are being chased. Rightfully so, someone should chase them, cuff them, stuff them and tear their licenses into little tiny pieces.
New Hampshire is so brief, but charms us with Lottery Tickets and Wicked Good Deals on Liquor.
Maine, ahhh, crossing the bridge we all put our windows down and take deep breaths - remember we went through Secaucus? - yikes!
We make it to Thursten and Lovey's house to retrieve Ashlee's Jeep Wrangler that was left there after transporting dogs to the kennel. Ashlee and Lauren spend some time bailing water from the jeep because the back windows were out - don't ask. They start her up and we're all off again. The girls in the Wrangler aka, The Blueberry and The Donald and I in the Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited (that's what separates him from the scuzballs like me) aka the Cranberry. We went about a mile and a half and traffic slowed down, people were going around vehicles ahead. We realized in horror that the blueberry was the vehicle everyone was maneuvering around. As we rode by Ashlee opened up the door and mouthed, "I'm sorry!" The front of the jeep was pushed back at the grill. The bumper was untouched. I'm not even sure what we said, but there was some foul language colorfully tossed about.
The Donald pulled over and we ran over to the girls. Ashlee was out of the vehicle and Lauren was still inside obviously too shaken to get out right away. The wife of a man I work with stopped to see if we needed help, how sweet that was. The women in front of Ashlee stopped short and, well, Ashlee didn't.
It's worth pointing out that we had a half hour window to retrieve 2 cats and 2 giant dogs from the kennel. I sent The Donald on and was even tempted to go with him until the ambulance pulled up and my maternal instincts, which I admit sometimes take a good rattling to get going, kicked in and I stayed.
I saw some sort of weed-pipe on the sidewalk and gave it a swift kick into the bushes. I knew it was there for a while, but let's not go down that path. Soon after I noticed I had a bleeding wound on my foot and prayed I wouldn't come down with AIDS, Fibromyalgia or whooping cough from a contaminated weed pipe.
About this time Ashlee had begun vomiting in the bushes and the nice fireman was patting her on the back concerned about concussions and the like. I was more worried about ED rearing his head to help 'cope', but didn't share that with Mr. Firefighter.
The Jeep was loaded on a tow truck, the reports written by the cute cop that I think Ashlee so go see and thank and perhaps offer to treat for lunch, or at least go dutch. Don arrived back with the dogs in the Cranberry. The cats were left at the kennel for another day - you can't have a loose cat and a Cat Hating Newfoundland in the same car with 4 people another dog and luggage. Somebody will end up in a bodybag. When we all piled into the car, the Newfie tried to go in the 'way back' and managed to lodge herself ala Pooh Bear style for the entire 45 minute ride.
We arrived home, unloaded and I made pork, green beans, rice, crescent rolls and decided we would all push down our stress with food.
The good news is everyone is okay. The blueberry may be unrepairable, but it's just a car. We'll get through this and I've come to realize, this is life. You roll with the punches, you take it in stride and enjoy when you can. We're building memories here.
ps. Bob the stalker that we unfriended sent me a note saying he realized we are all snobs for unfriending him, yeah, that's what happened. *sigh*
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