Calipers on my Car?

I knew something was very wrong with my car and getting worse. But I was in denial. I knew the horrendous scraping noise was getting louder, especially when I braked. But hey, the brakes still worked. I tried to glide through stop signs and hit all the green lights in order to avoid braking.

Like an old man who has a pain in his gut and is too afraid to go to the doctor and be given a life-altering diagnosis, I neglected my old car--afraid of the bad news I knew was coming. I have needed new brakes before but I have never before heard the excruciating sounds of metallic friction that were emanating from my Montero Sport's left rear end.

So finally last week the car went in to the garage. I had a friend pick me up at the shop in her school bus. We went out for coffee and a club sandwich as I awaited the dreaded phone call and she awaited her next run. Ouch. Two hours later I took the call--I had a broken caliper. They come in pairs as I learned. Only one was broken, but they recommended replacing both. What the heck were calipers? My gearhead brothers will laugh at me. I don't think I have ever replaced my calipers before.

And then it gets worse. I needed a new alternator, and belts as well. The battery had already been replaced and the car was starting fine, but I guess it was only a matter of time--it was not charging.

At some point during the final phone call informing me that my car was ready, the man at the shop called me hon. I appreciated that he was trying to be accommodating to me, but a tiny tinge of feminism reared its ugly head. My hackles were aroused...but my calipers were fixed!

The bill. $1398. And that was for only the one caliper. The car is now as quiet as a good dream and I can once again slam on my brakes without cringing from the screeching sounds of metal on metal.

For another couple hundred they would have replaced the pump for my windshield fluid. I have invested in a cheap squirt bottle to keep in the car.

I don't often write about my Dad. His name was Melvin and I liked him very much. My husband lost his father less than two years ago and sees him every day when he looks in the mirror. My parents have been gone so long that I can go days without thinking about them. And I try not to look in the mirror very often. But my bad brakes reminded me of my father. To save on brakes, he would go dangerously fast around corners. He careened out of our driveway onto the highway sans brakes. I recall that it felt dangerous.

I was also reminded that he delighted in freaking me out by navigating the ditches and ridges on the farm at a tipping angle. I'm sure he knew what was safe, but he delighted in trying to frighten me. 

I wonder if he did the same to those old gearhead brothers of mine?

I wonder if he would be amused by my bad caliper and braking-avoidance technique?

Fire and Ice in April

It's snowing--let's turn up the heat!

Today was a terrible, horrible, very bad April Day. I look at photos from last year when we had an early spring--too early really, as the apple blossoms bloomed and froze--and I marvel at the contrast. This is ridiculous. It was windy and cold this morning and then this afternoon--snow pellets began to blow about. You can see the accumulation on the ivy outside the window.

Tomorrow we will be a month into Spring. Nearly 10 inches of April showers have swelled the rivers and lakes, but it has been so chilly that the grass is hardly greening. One yellow pansy is trying to bloom in a half whisky barrel I planted last fall, a few primroses are peaking out pink and of course, the plucky crocuses and Lenten roses have been blooming for awhile. But it is pretty grim out there and spring cleanup has ground to a halt.

Inside, I have one bright spot. My amaryllis is indeed spectacular. I have photographed its progress as the stalk grew to 27 inches before opening up to bloom in triplicate.

Here is my blooming beauty as of today, April 19, 2013:

Fitness, Friends and Failure

When I was in my twenties I could eat a whole pizza every Friday night (and did for awhile when we were living in our Oak Park, IL apartment) and never think about gaining weight. Now I eat a small thin crust pizza and know it will make me gain weight.

I never learned the discipline needed early in life, when I still had hormones and muscles and no laptop or HD television.

About a week ago I finally joined a popular on-line site for weight loss, My Fitness Pal. I am trying to bring some more accountability into my life.

I was soooo good all week. I went out to eat only once and had fajitas--ate just the veggies and the meat and a little cheese. I mostly ate at home and mostly stayed near my (near-starvation) goals.

Girls Night Out - Shared fajitas and 1/2 price Wednesday wine

And then the full load of temptation hit on the weekend, on day 8 of the program.

It all went south on Saturday, late afternoon. An art gallery opening included a good friend and we showed up to lend our support. All the artists brought food and many baked. Cookies, bars, cheese and crackers--there it all was. And I had eaten vegetables all week.

Then we went out for dinner.

And then we were invited to the artist's home for pie and cookies and coffee. Not to be rude ... I ate a piece of pie and one more cookie.

And then Sunday: book club dinner and discussion--a generous spread of mostly healthy stuff, including a lovely bowl of fruit--but also a tempting bowl of chips and dip!

Fruit glowing in the early evening sunshine

And then I tasted the Texas sheet cake dessert. Oh my. Do you think I had just one of these moist, gooey, freshly-baked, almond-infused, nutty, frosted bars of goodness?

And so it goes. Do you think I put all this in my food diary???????????????????????

Plants for Four Seasons

A confusing array of plantings

When I scan my plant collection I could easily become confused as to what time of year it is. I bought a hosta and a rose bush at the home and garden show, which remain in the sun room until I can safely plant them in the yard. I have a few of those geraniums that were saved in the basement laundry room in a brown bag for the winter.

And then the above plants are moved around the house in order to capture some natural light. The poinsettia still looks too good to throw out. It was gifted to me at Christmas. The Easter lily was gifted to me on Easter Sunday. And my three-year-old gifted amaryllis is about to open up once again. The stalk has now grown to two feet above the bulb and I expect it will be spectacular when it opens. A five-year-old gifted azalea is not blooming currently. And an April anniversary planter has a variety of plantings included--croton, palm, hydrangea and those little pink polka-dot plants that are sold as summer annuals in our Michigan zone.

If I had been asked what time of year it was when I was quizzed to determine whether I had really lost my mind during that recent episode of transient global amnesia--I would have been totally confused by looking at my plantings!

I cannot kill a plant and sometimes the sun room becomes a little too crowded with plants for all seasons. The curse of a good green thumb...