It Is Time

Four years ago I thought that the day I turned sixteen would be the day I'd ride off into the sunset in a nice lime green Volkswagen Beetle. That didn't quite happen. (Hard to come by a stunning sunset in the middle of winter- my birthday is February 1st.) The purchase of my bug took place a month before my birthday, but I didn't receive my license until two days after it. Therefore, the riding-into-the-sunset goal was unobtainable on my birthday. One would think, however, that this dream could be accomplished when I finally got my license (the 3rd) but nay, nay. My bug is a standard, a skill I have yet to master.

On the "Bug Hunt", Tim and I found convertibles, standards, reds, sunroofs, automatics and yellows. An entire arrange of bugs like it were a flower garden! As I always wanted a green punch buggy, I settled for one found by Tim's brother in Raymond, NH. Although it was a 1999 and didn't have a sunroof, we purchased it. I was pleased, but Tim was stumped on the fact it was a standard. Big deal. I thought standard would be an excellent skill to add to the toolbox of usefulness. I still maintain that it is.

However, I wanted to learn how to drive my bug when snow wasn't as ubiquitous and the temperature was more tolerable. I wanted to wait. Tim was kindly loaning me his S-10 so I was all set until Spring! Well, we all know what happened.

Last Sunday, Tim took me to Littleton where I attempted to learn this shifting thing. (Mom is partial to calling it "rowing your boat".) It was decent. I had somewhat of an idea as Tim took me a few months ago, but we were on ice so it was difficult to learn. Last Sunday we went on the road. (Why me?) We came around a corner, a car was coming, and bam!- third gear and I didn't quite click. I made Tim drive the rest of the way home!

Today he wants to take me out again. I appreciate his tenacity, but I'm scared. He wants me to drive to VERMONT so we can have lunch at the Truck Stop. Aww gee.
Me after shoveling off the truck and bug a few weeks ago. (It took two hours.) Little did I know of the challenges I would face ahead...

Later: I did well! That is, until my windshield was smacked with a blizzard. We pushed through, filled my gas tank, and then I made Tim drive home. On the journey back, visibility was obstructed by a flurry of white flakes and racing winds. Then came The Hill: Route 117. We honestly didn't think we could make it, but against my suggestion at pulling into the Sugar Hill Inn parking lot, Tenacious Timothy merely scoffed. Somehow my buggy pushed through the ice and snow and brought us home. I am so proud of that little car! Tim definitely handled it well, but if it were me behind the wheel, I would have parked at the end. It's so scary how unpredictable the weather is up here. Maybe I'll move to the Tropics and buy myself a nice little convertible bug. Ahh what a dream.

Meg Brown1 Comment