Mom's on the road to Minnesota, expanding her Fringe-going carbon footprint to rival that an out of town artist coming to visit and perform for us.
She's doing better than I am with a car today.
I'm typing this at my mechanic's, waiting for them to tell me whether or not my car is well & truly dead.
It's 14 years old. It doesn't owe me anything. If it were a dog, it would be dead by now. Sometimes I think the patches of rust are the only thing holding it together. It just got a new battery (only its second, I think) at the last oil change. Last year right after the Fringe, it got new tires. A couple of weeks ago, it got some valve replaced to keep it running, but everything else seemed OK.
Well, as they said of the last season of Six Feet Under - Everything. Everyone. Everywhere. Ends.
But in just three short days, Mom was going to arrive and give me her slightly used car, and then buy a nice shiny new one for herself to drive back to PA and surprise Grandma and my brother Mark.
It may be taxis and buses and depending on the kindness of strangers for the next three days.
Meantime, I'm drafting what I think is almost the final schedule for me and Mom. The last two slots on Tuesday are still a question mark, but we've got a bundle of options. I need to confer with her to finalize those. The rest I'm pretty sure about.
For now, I need to roll out the stash of blog posts I'd been hoarding, and get the Top 10/Top 20 list posted.