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Posts Tagged ‘fried clams’


The deal is the deal.

Sometimes.

Because sometimes the deal changes.

My parents were supposed to visit us in NY for a few days. My father has some things he wanted to talk about. But when your mother has Alzheimer’s things can change. She wasn’t up for a long ride to New York, and she really wasn’t sure who she was going to visit.

My father called an audible, which was okay. I’m not really sure how to handle this development with my kids. I’m not sure how they will respond if they realize my mother has no idea who they are.

So I agreed to travel to them and spend a night at a friend’s house. My plan was to leave around 7 am. Man plans, and God laughs. No, nothing dramatic. I just wanted to do a few things before I left. I packed light, except for books.  I needed my caffeine fix so I made tea. I needed a travel much to keep it in so I borrowed one from my in-laws. By the time I wrote down the routes I wanted it was nearly 8 am. I was off. I could still make it to NH around lunchtime.

Just before I reached the end of Route 8, about 10 minutes away, I realized I forgot the book I was going to give to my father. I’d picked up an extra copy of Keller’s Walking with God through Pain and Suffering. I’m not sure he’d read it, but you never know what the Spirit might do. I knew that I should have taken it out the night before. Well, heading back wouldn’t cost too much head back and I really didn’t want to mail it. So I turned around. When I left, for real, it was 8:30. I didn’t see a cup holder, so I had to pull over to secure the travel mug because things were sliding around. Things just weren’t starting off well.

The radio in the Subee ( the nickname for  the Subaru) doesn’t have an aux jack, so I had to settle for the few stations. These were not good options. Mostly they were NPR. I learned quite a bit about Albany’s politics, including the stat that since 2000 10% of the state legislators have left due to corruption of one kind or another. I actually made pretty good time into Vermont. At times I got stuck behind the scenic drivers, the ones who drive 10-15 miles below the speed limit for unknown reasons. I recently read the Heidelberg Catechism on providence (actually I’m reading Kevin DeYoung’s book on it). I was neither patient, not thankful. I have a ways to go yet in this thing called sanctification.

When I finally took a sip of my tea, I made a shocking discovery. Teaffee! The coffee taste from the mug overpowered the taste of my tea. Not good, not good at all I say.

I had to change the station a few times to another NPR station, usually, as I made my way across Vermont. I often stop at a restaurant near the Quechee gorge. This time I was a little early for lunch when I arrived in Quechee. I tried to call my father to see if they had lunch plans but I had no service. That is another common problem alone Route 4 in Vermont. Shortly after getting on 89 I called my father and talked to him. We would be getting together for lunch. No more than 2 minutes after hanging up with him the highway became a parking lot. I had just passed an exit and was drawing near to a turn around. I quickly used my map app (thankfully I actually had service) and discovered a road that ran parallel to the highway to get me to the next exit. I turned around and got off the highway at the exit.

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Right now I’m stuck.  Flat tire.  You know how that goes.  Planus interruptus.  Instead of heading to church, we are stuck at the Farm because I can’t seem to lower the spare tire.  As annoying as it may be, it is not as annoying as if it had happened Friday while we were driving home back from NH in the midst of a heat wave.  That would have been worse, especially in light of my inability to lower that spare tire.  We passed one poor soul whose jack had dug into the hot pavement, unable to lift his vehicle.

Before traveling to NH to visit my parents, we decided it was time for a haircut.  The “Butcher of Bakers Mills” discovered the clippers, held together by duct tape, only had 2 attachments.  So I got buzzed pretty good.  I decided this was a good time to remove 3 weeks’ worth of stubble from my face.  I ended up looking like one of my brothers.  So I thought.

She's got an idea...

But even before this… CavGirl stepped on a nail while playing in the woods with her cousins.  CavWife heard some screaming over the persistent sound of Pop-Pop’s lawnmower.  He big cousin Evan carried her to her aunt’s house.  It bled alot, which was good.  And she seemed to do well.  We agonized over whether or not she needed a tetanus booster.  We relented since it had been 5 years.  The doctor decided she needed antibiotics just in case.  2 problems.  First, he gave her a liquid.  Second, he said it didn’t taste very good.  I want to smack this guy.  Though this could be the reason he is practicing medicine in the middle of nowhere.  For most of the 10 day protocol of antibiotics, 4 times a day, we had to deal with screaming, running, gagging and more.  A few night’s later I watched Inception with my oldest niece.  He planted the idea in her mind that this would taste horrible and like Cobb we couldn’t get the thought out of her mind.

With renters in the main house, we headed down to CavWife’s sister’s home.  Down into the cave so the morning sun wouldn’t wake me up.  But the footsteps would.  But before a night’s sleep, we went to someone’s house on Garnett Lake.  He is the retired basketball coach from Wheaton.  He and his wife were great hosts as we sat by the lake with one eye on the kids while we talked about life.  Then I slept in the 4th bed on this trip.

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