Going Home.

My family is out of town this week for vacation. At a beach. On the eastern seaboard. Having loads of fun.

Jealous?

You'd better believe it.

I decided on Wednesday to run down to the farm to give Caleb a little mid-week support (with 11 horses, a Great Dane, Jacks ( Jax, or Jack), and 5 cats (apparently some of them went to God's Great Litter Box in the sky before the Parents went to God's Luxury Litter Box for Kitties on this earth- not that they actually went to a giant cat-poo location for vacation-- yee, sounds gross.. "So, where'd the 'rents go for vacation?" "Oh, the litter box" Right. I'm done) .

So I left work at 6 and did not arrive in B until 9:15. The drive is an hour, max. 15 minutes from home I decided to take Sweet B for a trip down one of the twistiest roads in Fairfield county, the strip of 664 that runs from West Rushville to Logan. The B was looking B-utiful and (hey! license plate name!) a car that red, shiny, sporty, and vintage must be on a road that curvy. So I head down Coonpath and as I get closer to my Aunt and Uncle's place, I decide to pull in and give a quick "Hello! Just in the neighborhood" visit.

(side note: this route takes me past my grandfather's old house- it just sold- and THEY'VE STUCK THE MOST-OBSCENELY OUT-OF-PLACE-UGLY-BEYOND-IMAGINATION barn RIGHT SMACK DAB NEXT TO THE HOUSE! It is a grotesque piece of architecture (FAT ol' pole barn next to a classic cape cod with cedar siding and large front porch. Despicable. It makes me tremble with rage. I need to stop, I'm starting to see spots... blast it, it's UGLY. It's so u-g-l-y, it ain't got an alibi, it's ugly. But really, it is. It makes me want to throw up. Oh the abominable structure. YUCK!))

Grr, I'm still so angry! Must move on. Food. Family. Right. So I zip into the Aunt and Uncle's and pop in for a quick hello. Which turns into dinner and a long discussion on whether or not Josh and I are extroverted, introverted (which we are), or just verted. I'm mostly verted. We also discussed various family members and had a great old time just staring out over the pond and weeping willows, chatting about our families.

So the B and I head home, roaring around the bends, flying past the cornfields, whizzing by the herds of cattle. As we crawl up the long hill of the long driveway (no racing up gravel driveways for my B), I heard a faint "HEY!" come from above. "God? Look, I know I was speeding and I know I got mad at that driver on 33 but.." oh wait, Caleb!

Turns out 'Vanna had escaped and Caleb and Jacks were on the hunt. I put the B in reverse and we start to make our way down the driveway, heading back to the road when out of the corner of my eye, a giant black and white monster comes hurtling towards the B. It's "The 'Vanna." She comes galloping up to the B and in a moment of self-preservation, instinct calling to catch the animal, and B preservation, I stuck my arm out and latch on to her collar. Well then Jacks in my lap is growling at 'Vanna for the intrusion into his territory (I'm his territory) and 'Vanna is slobbering to beat Beethoven, and I'm screeching at her to stay off my car and for Caleb to get out of it. Except Caleb's never exited the car and so he has no idea how to pull the handle. So there I am, one hand holding Jacks, one hand desperately trying to cling to 'Vanna, hurling violent threats of dismemberment towards her and yet trying to calmly instruct Caleb to "PULL THE BLACK THING, NO, THE OTHER BLACK THING! GET HER, SHE'S GOING TO KILL MY CAR! BACK UP 'VANNA BEFORE I HURT YOU! NO NOW PULL NO NOT THAT ONE, PULL THE..." and then he got it and whipped out and around to save my B from 'Vanna's claws, literally. She put her two front paws on the B and I nearly kicked her face in, except I had forgotten to put the B in neutral and had both feet on the clutch and brake. After 'Vanna is under control, Jacks and I oh so gracefully make our way up the rest of the drive. Jacks is the perfect dog for my car. Jacks is to my car what my car is to curvy roads.

More to come...