I have landed – if you have noticed my absence from blogging at Trust the Universe, I had good reason. Over the last few weeks I have been busy packing and storing, managing final bill payments, cleaning my old place for the new tenants and preparing for my move to Montpelier.
Even a temporary move is time consuming. Because I am only renting a room, most of my possessions had to go to a storage unit. It sounds easy. But first I had to hire strong men to help me. The quotes from moving companies for the two-mile trek to the storage unit made me wonder how others could afford to move cross country. My whole point behind the move was to reduce my expenses, so paying the equivalent of a month’s rent didn’t make sense. Enter Craigslist. I hired two guys with the same name and crossed my fingers.
I decided to take some of my things up to Monty on the weekend of Martin Luther King Day. All went well – I set up my bed and desk and hung a few clothes, and got Fae used to the new digs. The next morning, we headed into town. On the way, Spike the truck began to complain. The front wheel began to grind and squeal. I got out to check, thinking a stick may have gotten wedged in the wheel area. Nothing. I drove slowly into town, wincing with the sound the wheel continued to make. At one point, I pulled into a parking lot to check the wheel again. A man stood at his work truck and watched me pull in, then approached and asked if I had trouble. He checked the wheel, then looked under the hood. I had already done those things, but since I have little to no knowledge of vehicles and the whys and hows of their innards, I was comforted that someone else was looking at Spike’s owie.
The man looked, and looked again, then stood and scratched his head and rubbed his beard.
“Just drive it,” he said. “It’ll work itself out.”
Again, knowing nothing about vehicles, I believed him. And I drove back to my room outside of town.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, the front right wheel was bent at a 45 degree angle, smoking and angry.
Spike was sent off to the hospital. A kind vehicle doctor told me the news – Spike’s bearings had given out, and the wheel had bent inward, damaging the rotor, brake pads, and bent the axle, along with a few other things that have escaped my memory. But, he said, Spike was worth saving. To replace it with another car, even an unreliable wreck, would cost more than fixing the problems.
So that month’s rent I refused to give to the moving company went to Car Doctor, and Spike is now a happy truck. C’est la vie. Money can be replaced – the old truck took me 100 miles at 60 miles per hour without a problem, and didn’t give up until I was in the driveway, safe and sound.
And now I am in Monty, waiting to see what the Universe will bring in the way of adventures. Stay tuned – and stay happy!