About Time!

"Can I get an Amen from the congregation!" Today, after just about a year of slavery and dogged determination (if I do say so myslef), I finally got that stupid green van fixed. It was wonderful (said with seething, dripping, sarcasm). The van itself was given to me about a year and a half ago, maybe two years now, and my wife and I drove it with great satisfaction, thankful for a vehicle that was slightly larger than a match box, you know, those old type where you slide the center of the box out and strike the match on the side. (That's about what our car is like. You have to thread the kids in, feet first, if you're in a hurry) And then, KA-BOOM! Well, alright, it didn't blow up. (Talking about the green van now) It would just die in the middle of intersections as the arrow was turning from green to red, usually in record speed, and you were already committed to the turn. Oh how frustrating that was. Then last March, when I was returning from town: billowing clouds of sweet fragrant smoke poured out of the exhaust and that old temperature gauge spiked, after one complete revolution, in the red. Buried extensively in the red. Now for all of you that do not know what that means, let me explain: Blown Head Gasket. Now, I was recently on my own, numerous Thunder clouds hanging over my head, and I was. noT. PLEASED. "Oooooooooh, I hates rabbits!"
But Thank God! And I mean it! Finally! It is done and it works like it should! Now I can sell it. "But, wait" you say. "I thought that you wanted a car bigger than your cracker box?" Oh, we do, but since it's just the four of us right now, and we kinda need the investment in the van (if you know what I mean) and I got sooo much stinking money and time into the "match book," and it's running just fine, we'll make do for a little longer. Not much longer, I hope. (I've been drooling over this new model for the last couple of years. Oh, that'd be nice.) God knows. Anybody want to buy a van?