Which Of These Things Is Not Like The Others?

As the speedometer flies, our house is 25 miles north of the intersection of Bluff Street and St. George Boulevard. (I measured very scientifically, using the car odometer and everything.)

It may not seem like much distance, or it may, depending on your frame of reference, but perhaps this next nifty fact will turn your head, or at least raise your eyebrows.

According to the Internet, our little villa in unincorporated Washington County is 2,386 miles higher in elevation than St. George. 

Sooo, we might as well be in our own weather zone. This point is illustrated by our car parked in this St. George parking lot.

Which vehicle do you think is ours?

Here's a hint: it doesn't look like the others.

Here's another hint: LOOK FOR THE SNOW ON THE GROUND!

Yes, we get snow in the springtime when everyone else in our county is trying on their bikinis.

Well...maybe not everyone...I hope not everyone...actually, I hope not anyone.

But we're not talking about the subtle sexiness of one piece women's bathing suits here.

 We're talking about SNOW. Do you like it?

If so, do you like it in the spring? Or are you a warm weather lover?

Why Park By Me?

After experiences of having my car doors dinged by neighboring vehicles with no manners, I prefer to park far away and by myself in a parking lot. 

Which is what I did with my little blue car.

 But when I came out from the store, what did I see? A big ol' white car parked RIGHT NEXT to me.

Was I in a premium spot, or what?

Did the big white car have a crush (how punny!) on my little blue car?
Did the big car think my little car was lonely all by itself?
I just didn't get it, and didn't stick around to ask.

How about you? Have you had your car doors dinged?

(Or are you a door dinger?)

Whatever you are, you might be better at it if you apply this license plate's advice.

 I've heard that success is 90% determination and 10% inspiration...or 99% to 1%...or 95% to 5%...whatever the ratio, determination always comes out ahead, even if you're determined to park by the only car in an isolated place in a huge parking lot!

Patriotic Vehicles

Since Bob traded in his red truck for a nearly-white Yukon Denali SUV, we have become the proud-to-be-American owners of a patriotic trio of cars!

Do you know what color of car most people say looks dirty the fastest? (What if I make it easy and give you the option of black or white?)

Ready?

Survey says... black! (I was surprised, too. I thought it would be white!)

What's your favorite car color?

Scariest Sheriff I've Ever Seen

Driving through a small tourist town in Utah, Michael stopped the truck so we could check out this sheriff's car parked at the side of the road. What we saw through the window is the stuff of nightmares.

He never sleeps. He never blinks. He never even takes potty breaks. He simply sits and glares at passing cars through his dark glasses, daring them to break the law.

He has no legs, but he gets the job done.

Would you ever want to meet this rubber-faced cop?

The trouble with Cars

I don't argue that cars are helpful things. When mine works, I love my PT Cruiser (except for its low clearance. I lost an oil pan from rolling over a rock on a canyon road a few years ago.) When they don't work, cars are just big hunks of junk. Last year, my car got several mysterious flat tires. It seemed like I found a flat tire every other week for a couple of months. Weird.

My sister's tire was weird, too because the tire repair man said he'd never seen a flat like hers with a stick impaled in her tire. He couldn't figure out how it had happened.

But I digress.

This year, I had to have a new alternator put in my hot-rod-red PT Cruiser. Only a couple of weeks later, my car broke down on a highway north of Gunnison while I was rushing to get my prescriptions before closing time. The new alternator had gone junk, but my knight in shining red truck armor came and rescued me in enough time to get my car to a safe place and also get my tasks done. We barely made it! It was so exciting.

Do you like your vehicle? Or would you rather have a horse?

Finding A Rock in an Unlikely Place

Would you be surprised to open your car door and find a rock in your car? I mean, if you didn't leave one there the last time you drove. I was puzzled by the rock I found in my car. It hadn't been there the last time I looked. Sometimes Bron borrows my car, but why would he put a rock in it, especially on the floor of the driver's side?

Hm.

It could be to put behind a tire to hold the car in place in case it's parked on a hill and the brakes give out.

It could be to break out a window in case the car plunges into a deep body of water.

Maybe it's intended for use against a car jacker... although a car jacker just might see a bright white rock coming at him. Yet ducking might not work to totally avoid injury, since rocks are prone to follow the law of gravity, and so could still fall on an attacker's head.

Perhaps it's really a petrified dinosaur egg.

There could be a diamond hidden inside.

Maybe it's an alien skull.

It could be ballast for an unexpected boat ride, or be used to hold down the corner of a tent constructed from the blankets I keep in the back of my car.

I finally asked Bron about it, and he said, "I saw one of those flags the Scouts stick into lawns tipping over, so I found this rock and used it to hammer the flag back in. Then I put it in the car and drove home."

Mystery solved! Now I can write a story about some of the things I contemplated before finding out the truth. 

What did you think the rock was for? 

Looking For a Good Book

Being a victim of an occasional Bahlmann Boy Prank, when my son announced that someone was "here to see me," I asked, "Are you serious?" Sure enough, Clint was at my door, looking to buy one of my books that his neighbor recommended. The funny thing is, the neighbor didn't know my exact address, and neither did Clint. But Clint felt confident he could follow the directions to turn down my street and stop at the house with the red PT Cruiser parked in front.
But there was a problem. My Cruiser was not parked in front of my house. In a secret agent moment, I'd parked it beside an old church one house away from mine. Why? Because my youngest son was waving the water hose around the front yard like a deranged elephant, and I had just washed the car and didn't want it all spotty.
So Clint went to the house across the street from the church, and then to the next house, and the one after that, which happened to be right across the street from me. Those neighbors kindly pointed him in the right direction.
And do you know what? Once he found me, Clint ended up buying two books. Perhaps the hunt makes the trophy more dear. Maybe it's time to unlist my phone number. I could be independantly wealthy in no time!