too many cars ’round here…

My car is now in many pieces. I’d forgotten just how much of a pain removing the timing belt in order to replace the water pump is. The bearing is definitely bad in the old one. I’ve gotten the old water pump removed, but that’s it. The o-ring that came with my new water pump for the thermostat housing is the wrong one. So I’m going to hope that I can get one at the Mazda dealership without waiting for them to order it. I want my car back as soon as possible.

But if they don’t have it, it won’t be a big deal. There’s many cars here, and Joanna and I have decided to stay here until next Monday so that we can look after her grandmother. Her parents are leaving for the weekend and need us to watch her. We’re not really in any hurry. We’ll now leave Monday at the earliest.

We’re still discussing possible route options. We’re thinking about Atlanta on Monday night, Young Harris, GA on Tuesday night, Knoxville on Wednesday night… then Memphis, and Norman, and down to Dallas, then Austin, Big Bend and then probably the Grand Canyon and Moab more or less on the way to California….

Wow. That sounds like a plan. Scary almost. I’m sure it will all fall apart, but I think I’m going to try to give people some warning before I show up looking for a place to sleep this time.

I’m still getting used to being married. So far it’s nice. I went to bed later than Joanna did last night and inadvertently woke her up since she’s a light sleeper and I’m not exactly graceful. She wasn’t very happy, and complained she was cold because she’d left the window open for me, but I wasn’t in bed to keep her warm… Must learn to get better about things like this.

The Brenners went to church while Joanna and I slept in then went to Nathan’s to borrow a torque wrench and the auto parts store in preparation for working on my car. Chinese food awaited us when we got back. Yummy. Since I still don’t understand the Brenner habit of ignoring meals after lunch on Sunday, it was fortunate that there was lots of leftover Chinese for dinner…. And now I’m hungry again. I really should start observing a more hobbitish meal schedule. Breakfast, Second Breakfast, Elevenses, Tea, Dinner, Supper… In any case, Chinese restaurants should not attempt curry dishes.

On the way back from the auto parts store, driving the Camaro, I passed a cop while exceeding the speed limit. Since I wasn’t in my car, I didn’t have my radar detector. Fortunately, he didn’t seem interested in me. Perhaps this is Karmic adjustment for the ticket I recently got in Gulf Shores for “Following to close” [sic]. See, a radar detector doesn’t really help you avoid tickets for things like “following to close.” Apparently, in Gulf Shores, one is supposed to maintain a car length’s distance for each 10mph behind a car even while accelerating to pass. I’m not sure how one could ever safely overtake a car by starting 4 car lengths behind. And is it a car length for each 10mph of my speed or the car I’m overtaking? Apparently, there wasn’t a check box on the Alabama Uniform Traffic Ticket for “Driving a Red Convertible.”

Paying the ticket was an incredibly frustrating experience. I called the court to find out what I needed to do to pay the ticket. I was hoping I could pay it over the phone with a credit card like you can with most places these days. Nope, in Gulf Shores you can either pay cash in person or send them a money order. No personal checks.

I asked them for their address so that I might pay the ticket. First I was given a P.O. Box, then finally “1905 1st Street,” along with a zip code. I figured that would be sufficient data for me to plug into Street Atlas and have it tell me where to go. I should have felt sufficiently warned when I noticed that the addresses in street atlas seemed to stop around 500 in Street Atlas. I figured I’d just keep driving though.

We never found it. Finally, we called and asked for directions. It turns out that they weren’t on 1st street at all. “Clubhouse Drive” or something, ten minutes away from 1st street.

When we finally arrived, the building sign said, “City Hall,” and listed all sorts of offices but said nothing about the court. I inquired inside and they told me to go down a hall, turn, go down another hall and up the stairs. I did so and found a little bitty office with two people inside, a young woman and a middle aged fat guy. The woman asked what I needed. After examining my ticket, she turned to the guy and asked him if she should just write a receipt for my money even though she didn’t yet have the cop’s copy of the ticket. The guy said no, that I couldn’t pay the ticket until he had a copy of it. After some discussion, he absolutely refused to take the money and said that if I kept arguing with him, he would refuse to accept payment of the ticket and would require me to go to court. The fact that if I mailed the ticket he would get it the money before he had a copy of the ticket didn’t seem to make any sense to him. I ended up driving across the street to the post office, standing in line, buying a money order, an envelope, and postage to send it certified mail. I don’t see why they couldn’t at least make the highway robbery an easy, pleasant experience.

Well, that’s all for now. I’m going to go find more Chinese.

Well, the first phase of our honeymoon has come to a close. We cleaned up Coco Beach House this morning and hauled all our stuff back to Mobile (stopping along the way to help Dad deliver a washer and dryer to one of my church’s refugee families). It was so nice to spend a couple of weeks on the beach, just the two of us… in a way-too-huge house. We watched lots of DVD’s on a player Dad bought at Winn-Dixie for $34, took walks on the beach, collected sea shells with holes in them and strung them together, flew my brother-in-law Nathan’s four-string stunt kite, baked lots of bread, took baths in the over-sized masterbath tub, and generally had a wonderful, relaxed, lovely time.

Next, we replace the water pump in the Miata, celebrate my brother’s 22nd birthday, and then head west.

We’re going back to the beach…

So don’t expect any updates for awhile. These few pictures will have to be enough for the moment. We spent most of today doing all sorts of things that we had to get done after getting married online and on the phone.

I added Joanna to my automobile insurance policy and am, as a result, saving $140 a year. This really doesn’t make sense: I’ve ADDED a person and am SAVING money. I really don’t understand insurance companies.

Now that we’ve accomplished all of the things we want to accomplish here in the land of reality, we’re going back to the beach. I’m looking forward to a peaceful week.

11 in 24

I’m trying to get used to this ring on my finger. I keep thinking it’s a band-aid, that I should avoid getting it wet. Berck keeps tapping his against the steering wheel, this foreign, hard body, looking out of place among his thick fingers. The only thing weirder is looking down at my own hand and seeing one similar to his, a sign that we must come as a matching set now. Otherwise, we could simply be in the car, on another road-tripping adventure.

It hasn’t quite sunk in that we’re married now. We’ve wanted to be with each other for so long… we HAVE been with each other for so long… and now it’s official, and we’ll never have to say goodbye again.

I still can’t decide if the ceremony was worth all the headache that went into it. It was certainly worth the effort, just not the dealing with all the parties involved who seemed to keep getting their feelings hurt at every turn.

I woke up in the middle of our wedding night, my new husband stretched out peacefully in the king beside me. I couldn’t go back to sleep–I’d drifted off around 8:30 the evening before, I was so exhausted–but I didn’t really want to slip back into unconsciousness. I lay there, grinning in the dark, pondering all the previous day’s events, replaying everything that happened, and letting the realization sink in of how wonderful it all was.

I was never one of those girls who had been planning her wedding since the first day she realized people have them. I didn’t even want to get married until Berck talked me into it. The only clear idea I had about a ceremony is that I wanted it outside. When our mothers independently suggested beach weddings to us within a week of each other, that was the thing to do. The details just seemed to fall into place. (By falling into place, I mean my mom asking me if I wanted such and such and me saying, goodness no! until I had to come up with something I did like.)

But what we ended up with was beautiful. It was everything I didn’t know I’d always wanted.

I wonder how many memories I can jot down before they’re confined to the myriad of time-slices captured by every amateur digital photographer in attendance… the effort I put into keeping my teeth from chattering as the wind bit through the velvet of my dress, the surprising sharpness of the wine as I gulped more than my half of it, the way Berck held my fingers as he swore something neither one of us could recall the words to later on…

Afterward, when we finally had some time to our own, we looked at each other and laughed and asked ourselves what had we done. We’d thought about this decision long and hard, right? We’d made up our minds a long time ago, yeah? We’d had time to think this over before the planning just got crazy and our time was no longer our own… didn’t we?

We snuck out after most everyone had left. As we checked into the Courtyard Marriott in our wedding gear, the clerk grinned and asked us how the wedding was.

“It was perfect,” I said.