Curbside Pickup Just Got REAL

As I wrote in a previous post, we replaced our dishwasher (ourselves) and thought we were done replacing things.  

HA.

My (ancient) laptop decided to start giving me fits.  The sound played intermittently, and the touchpad stopped working.  There were things I could do with it, but there were many more things I couldn't, so I started researching.  Long story short, I got a new laptop - nothing fancy, but newer, and most importantly, it WORKS.

So I'm finally done and I can get back to it, right?

HA again!

Last summer, I noticed that the plastic kill button on my boat's little outboard motor was chipped around the edges so that the clip that keeps the motor running couldn't perform its function.  This has happened before, so I knew what was needed - a throttle assembly.

Now, the boat and motor are 35 years old this year.  Parts.  Ah, yes.  It always comes down to Parts.  I searched for places that carried The Parts.  There were several, but only one had all the pieces for the throttle assembly.  So I built an order.

HOLY COW!  The total!  ACK!  I have the original receipt for the old motor, and the amount for JUST the throttle assembly parts was more than what the motor cost new in 1987!  OUCH.  I mean, come on.  After replacing the throttle assembly I'd still have a 35-year-old motor.  Who knows what would fail next?

So I REconsidered my options and searched for an equivalent NEW motor.  I read reviews and sailing forums and ads and websites.  It took several days, but I found a motor that would work.  

The new motor, at home.

Time to order!!!

Well, if only it were that simple.  Supply chain issues haven't gone away yet - will they ever?

I found a few sites that carry The Motor, but only TWO with any in stock - that's the $64,000 question!  

One was in California and the other in Connecticut.  The place in California was a little less expensive, but the "preparation fees" and shipping costs and all the other add-ons made it quite a bit MORE expensive.  Bait and switch.  The ancient cheat.

I ordered the motor from Defender Industries in Connecticut.  They only had two in stock.  After considering my options AGAIN, instead of having it shipped, I said I'd pick it up.

Yes, that's right.  I drove to Connecticut to pick up a new outboard.  

Yes, I'm crazy.

Well, just a little.  I decided to make the most of the trip.  Why not spend a week in New England?  And I could look in on That Girl and her family on the way.  So that's what I did.  I visited in Baltimore and stayed one night going.  I drove to Rhode Island, where I stayed for my off-season vacation.

"Ultra-Low Emissions"

But the motor was in Connecticut!  Not to worry.  Where I stayed in Rhode Island was about two miles from the Connecticut state line, and Defender Industries was only a thirty-minute drive from my temporary home base.  Half an hour in the car is nothing.  It was the perfect location.  I was only three houses from the beach.  I did walk to the beach a couple of times, but it was too cold to do anything else there.  Even the closest restaurants were closed for the season, and it snowed one night.

No, no beach activities besides walking - in my down parka.  I don't know that I've ever done that before.  

Anyway, that Monday I went to Defender Industries.  Why "Defender?"  Well, they specialize in inflatables (!) similar to Zodiacs, used by all sorts of public safety agencies, and as tenders to yachts and stuff.  They have ONE retail outlet and they carry ALL kinds of neato marine stuff, including sailboat hardware, floats, dock bumpers, Sunbrella material for covers, and just about everything you could wish for.  

A dangerous place! 

Here's The Box.
No actual luggage.

I had to go inside to let them know I had arrived.  I showed GREAT restraint by not wandering around and exploring the warehouse-like expanse of boat-related goodies.  I DID almost buy a set of charts for the Chesapeake Bay and another for the Block Island vicinity.  I picked them up and leafed through them longingly, but better sense prevailed and I returned them to their shelves.

When I drove around to the loading area, I saw The Box.  Oh, I KNEW (in my head) what size it would be, but actually seeing it in the back of my vehicle, I started to wonder whether I'd be able to fit my luggage in there with it! 

I managed. 

And I managed well enough that driving home (via Baltimore again) I didn't have anything blocking the rearview mirror's sightlines.

So, a successful curbside pickup.  Now I just have to figure out the new motor's foibles and eccentricities - oh, boy!!!

Sick, and Sick AGAIN, and...!

It has been a challenging start to the year.  I just can't seem to get any traction!

After spending Christmas with That Girl and her family, I came home with what I assumed was the usual Creeping Crud courtesy of the Grands, a.k.a. the germ factories.

It seems I almost always come home with a LITTLE something after visiting Those People, but this one wasn't so little.  I started sneezing (an odd occurrence for me!) and blowing my nose, AFTER I returned home, of course.  Normally I just get congested with a sinus infection and it all drains down my throat and I cough like crazy to clear it all out.  (I know, TMI - sorry!)  But not THIS time!  I never really felt congested, but I blew and blew and BLEW my nose.  My word!  Where did it all come from?

I was exhausted.  I didn't want to get out of bed or take a shower.  I went through tissues faster than green grass through a goose.  I was thirsty all the time because fluids were leaving my body via the ol' Schnozzola.

And then came the day when I fixed some leftover soup for lunch.  It smelled great and was good and hot - just the thing for a pitiable sickie.  I took a bite and thought it needed salt   So I salted it.  I took another bite.  Well, it still needed salt.  So I salted it.  I took another bite.  What the heck?  It didn't taste like I had added ANY salt AT ALL.

I was so sick and exhausted, it didn't even occur to me until after few weeks and I was completely over it.

I may have had COVID.  

So I was sick for about a month.  Thank God it didn't last any longer. 

So... things should have returned to some sort of normal.

Well, no.  Other STUFF came up (doesn't it always???) which I won't go into right now (the post would be long and rambling, so let's just stick to the current point) and as a result, I decided to take a trip east (AGAIN) beyond Baltimore and Those People, but I figured why not stop in and see them.  It had been a couple of months, and the kids are fun to see.  So I stopped in both directions, going and coming back, one night going, and two coming back.  I would have only stayed one night heading home, but That Girl and her husband wanted to go out for the evening the second night, so I stayed and watched The Grands.  

Well.

As usual, all three kids were coughing, and the youngest had an icky nose.  And I got SICK.  

AGAIN. 

I started coughing almost the minute I got home.  UGH.  A few days later, I felt better.  I seemed better.  But over the following weekend, I got MUCH worse.  But it behaved like a "normal" sinus infection.  I went to the doctor that Monday and she concurred. I got antibiotics and went through a few more mountains of tissues.

And then I got a phone call.  "What are you doing this weekend?  We have tickets to the NCAA Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight games, and wondered whether you could..."

What do you think I said?  What should I have said?  Ponder that a minute.

What I said was, "I'm sick right now."  And, "No, I'm not driving back there for one night and then losing another month to being sick."  Or something to that effect.

Anyway, NO.

So am I a Bad Grandma?  

Maybe.  

Do I want to be sick again?

NO.

After all was said and done, I spent 7 weeks of the first quarter of this year SICK. 

And I'm not going through that again soon.