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August 19, 2003

Footloose and Gas Free



The entire state of Arizona (or at least, the part I'm most concerned with, which would be The Valley) is without gas. Not flatulence, which would be nice (ahem). Gasoline. There ain't none to be had.

Some dimwit broke the doohickey on the whatsit, which resulted in one of our supply pipelines breaking, or some such thing. It's all over the Arizona Republic, if you want a non-layman explanation. The upshot of it all is that all the gas stations are out of gas. And when a wayward tanker truck finds itself at a hapless gas station (FOLLOWED by a train of gas-thirsty cars - kid you not, they see it coming down the road and FOLLOW it to wherever it's going), it has to fight its way through the throngs of cars lined up, waiting. And once it dumps its one measly tanker-full into the supply reservoirs, it's immediately sucked up by the waiting cars in a matter of minutes.

My gas gauge needle is right between 1/4 and 1/2. So I've been keeping an eye out for available gas. I don't want to go too far out to try to find it - thereby burning the gas I *need* in order to try to find *more* gas. But there are no less than fifteen gas stations in a two mile radius around my house and place of occupation, so you'd think I'd be able to find *something*.

Nada. Zip. Zero. Everybody's completely out.

So! I get to work from home tomorrow, in order to save the precious gas I have for the most important thing I have to do this week. Which would be to pick Calvin up from the airport on Friday. Which means I have to cancel tomorrow's plans with Heather to go to Pasta Brioni for dinner. The tragedy! No waiters hot enough for their own calendar (which, as it so happens, they actually have), serving up pasta to little ol' me. It is to sob.

I am going to venture forth somewhere between midnight and 2 a.m. to see if I can find a supply somewhere. A co-worker did that last night, and *still* had to wait in line for 30 minutes just to get to the pump. It's crazy, I tell you. But if I can score some, I may be able to pull of Pasta Brioni yet. There is hope! Dim, but the best I can do. Now to set my alarm (and here's a secret - if I find some gas I'm still working from home tomorrow. With the stuff I've gotta do, I'll actually get more done that way).



Here's something I forgot to include in yesterday's minutiae: we're finally getting the landscaping done in our back yard! No longer will there just be a hot tub surrounded by rocks, dirt, and dog poop! No! Now the dog poop will be relegated to the side yard (as will the dogs, in shady, misted, dog housey comfort - unless we're out there to make sure idiot dog Gadget doesn't dig in our newly-sprung lawn. Poor Gypsy suffers so as a result of his misbehavior). There will be grass, and lo! Trees! Plants of planty goodness, and also a brick border to keep the grass at bay from the planty goodness. There will be a sprinkler system, and they've agreed to fix the system in the front yard, that the idiot GC from the HIPFH(tm) screwed up when we did the addition. There will be a brick pad on which to place the Grill of Great Smokiness, which currently resides on our patio and wafts said Smokiness into the house whenever we use it. Oh! And there will be boulders! Because we have to replace the many little rocks with a few big-ass rocks.

You know me, gang. Any time we undertake a major appearance change at the ol' abode, we take tons of pictures. This will be no exception. You'll live it with us, and feel like you went through it yourselves. Long-time readers will remember the torture I put you through during the Home Improvement Project From Hell (or HIPFH(tm)). This BETTER go more smoothly than that. It might even end up being pleasant reading for you all!

Let us pray.

Speaking of prayer, something I also forgot to mention yesterday (HOW could I???) is that Calvin's grandmother was recently hospitalized, and gave us all a great scare. But she's doing well now - the issue wasn't as dire as we'd all feared, but still bad enough! She's usually (along with Grandfather) the direct pipeline to He Who Hears All Prayers (NOT, thankyajeezus, Bruce Almighty). Whenever something big/scary/important is happening in the family, we ask Grandmother to pray about it. And more often than not, whatever it was all about, works out in the end. Seems that some of that ability has rubbed off on us slightly more nefarious family members - our prayers have been answered and she's going to be fine. Although a lot of it might have had to do with the fact that God's got her back. She's one of His most important team players, after all! The whole thing sure made us remember how important it is for us to tell our loved ones how much they mean to us, though.

I'm going to go do some of that right now, as a matter of fact. Why don't you go ahead and indulge yourselves, too. Go on, shoo now.

And if you're reading, love ya, Granny!

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©Laura Charon 2000 - 2003.