Poor Bonnie

I might have left the wrong impression with my comment about getting a call from Bonnie. It was NOT the call from Bonnie than changed my life that week. It was her kind, sweet, wonderful, and incredibly loving call, asking me to come to the mountains and play with them that coming weekend, that rocked my world. Because, you see, I love the mountains. Love love love the mountains. And why wouldn't I, when it looks like this up there?



And I'm not only a wimp, I'm weak. Very weak. Because even though I hadn't gotten nearly enough stuff done around the house, and I really should have worked a full day at the office on Saturday and my darling babies who I hadn't seen in a week were returning home that day, I immediately started really considering it. Once they threw in a reminder that it was my angel neffy-poo's birthday on Sunday, the deed was done.

So, I start getting ready for the weekend. Until Friday morning, when I greet Sienna Lee with my usual loving comment, get in, and fire her up. And what does that ungrateful car do? She flashes a "check engine light" at me. Now, was that nice? Was that called for? I stopped in the drive way and immediately looked it up in the owners manual (that's what lawyers do, you know. We look stuff up). It said hie thee to a dealer. I said hie this and continued on to the office. (Oh, yeah; I'd also left my cell phone at the office the day before, so I was nekkid on the interstate). Got there, called STBX, and he said fergetaboutit. So I immediately flung taking Sienna Lee to the doctor from my to do list. But, I was still somewhat hesitant about driving her up to the mountains if she wasn't feeling well.

Did this setback stop my plans to join my adorable darling little sister (360 days younger)? of course not. I considered taking the Mountaineer Express, a twice a day bus from Greensboro to Boone that costs the ridiculous sum of $10.00. What a deal, and I could have read the entire way. But Bonnie was working on the house and really didn't want to take the time to come to Boone and pick me up--and she definitely didn't want to have to take me back to Boone on Sunday morning before they left to return to Georgia. So, I explored alternative mass transit options, leaving from Asheville to return to Greensboro on Sunday. (Bonbon and I really wanted to go to Biltmore on Sunday. We both have season passes, and while she's used hers, mine hasn't been used and it's going to expire September 2). Well, it might have well been Maine, 'cause you just cain't get here-yah from there-yah. (the Maine inlaws have spent years making fun of my Southern accent, not knowing the absolute glee their accents were creating in my soul, so I can say this stuff--as long as they never read it).

So, I called the Van-Man, BIL of the year who can fix everything and unfortunately, is generally called upon to do so. You see, DD's car, was sitting out in the driveway, too. It's older, and it's smallish, and she's got the most God-awful bumper stickers and window paint all over the thing. And, at the time, no bumper. Well, she had a bumper, it just wasn't on the car. Her mommy had given her a bumper for her birthday and we were waiting for STBX to have it installed. There were problems, so we were just waiting. Anyhoodles, I knew Van-Man could do it, so I called him and he assured me that the little car would have no problems getting to the mountains. I called DD, just to run it by her, and she assured me that the car would make it to the mountains. I talked to STBX, and he assured me that the car would make it to the mountains.

So (and this is the epitome of the wimp factor, here), I BELIEVED THEM. This also explains my original and much misunderstood comment about Bonnie's call. My wimpdom just wouldn't allow me not to find a way to get to the mountains. And I wouldn't have even considered it, if I hadn't wanted to see my beloveds so very badly; so I let the wimp out.

Guess what?

The car didn't make it to the mountains.

And that, my friends, will be the subject of the next post (and was to have been the subject of the prior post). It's a good thing blogger doesn't charge me by the word. Actually, they don't charge me at all, which is mighty kind and generous of them. Heck, maybe they should change their name to bonnie-ger, 'cause she's mighty kind and generous, too.

It's also a good thing that none of my former English teachers read this. My run-on factor is off the charts these days.