“Uncle” Sid Lovett, one of the best preachers I’ve ever heard, used to like to quote New Hampshire farmers. Here’s what one of them told him once about using a chainsaw: Ye can shift yer grip, but ye mustn’t lose your holt.
Tonight finds me holed up in Pennsville, New Jersey, nursing a clutch that was doing just that.
Spent the weekend in DC. Dancing was great, seeing friends was great, being part of Chalicechick’s splendid youth group murder mystery dinner theater (which they wrote themselves) was great, more dancing, great food, more friends, all the things I’m enjoying doing because I don’t have to work on Sundays, and meanwhile, the car started revving a lot and smelling funny.
Limped home: yes, it’s scary on I95 with no pickup, and toiling up over the Memorial Bridge from Delaware to the NJ Turnpike, down to 20mph and smelling very funny, was relieved to see a DOT highway truck pulling in front of me, lights flashing, obviously giving the lame duck an escort. Oh, how nice, I thought, he’s keeping me from getting rear-ended. He pulled me over, asked me some questions, told me what was wrong, suggested I hole up and get it fixed in the morning rather than take my chances on Sunday night—so that’s what I did. And in the motel with free WiFi, there's really nothing else to do but catch up on blogging, which after all I promised to do every day, and it’s been awhile.
“Look at that,” I thought, “you actually took a suggestion.” And I remembered the reason why I swore I’d never have a car with an automatic transmission again: a broken transmission costs thousands, and a broken clutch, merely hundreds.
I hope. I’ll find out tomorrow. But it’s a reassuring thought to someone on Unemployment when her car breaks down.
And once again, people are wonderful. I may still not have a job or an apartment or a girlfriend, but in spite of all that, there’s something new: I seem able to accept kindness for what it is. And hopefully not mess anyone's life up too much in the process.
People still ask, “what are you doing now?” and there are lots of quotations for that, too: “Foxes have holes, and birds have nests….” but apparently also…
“She that loseth her grip shall find it.”
One day, anyway.
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