hmmmm...

nothing much to report yet. I am still abed and unless I get hungrier
may stay here. Oh wait, that kid. I will rise in a moment and go pour
a large bowl of off-brand Cheerios. Aren't kids great? He loves off
brand stuff.

Georgia- sorry to hear about that wreck. It make take a while to get
Heather back in the saddle. Here's a sad little story for those who
don't know.

When I was 15, I took a Driver's Ed course at Conroe High. I completed
the course with an 86... not too bad. However, the gypsies who raised
me did not have the $325 necessary to pay for the course and thus, to
receive my license.

This didn't really concern me as I did have parents (albeit they were
gypsies) and a boyfriend with a '73 New Yorker.

.... a brief pause because someone is slamming a bowl on the table and
shrieking baby profanity...

... situation resolved. profane baby slurping some "cheerios" and
talking about Rush Wimbo and the Dimacwats...

So I had transportation everywhere, even though Daddy's cars would
sometimes catch on fire and the New Yorker (11 miles to the gallon)
sometimes had to be pushed to gas stations.

And I would cheerily, with my learners permit, drive fast with Daddy
as a passenger, windows down and U2 blaring... mama would never know.

That fateful day.... We were driving to church and I was on the back
part of Airport about to hit the Loop and then on down Airport... you
know. And I get there and there's a yellow light, turning to red. So I
try to sail through with Daddy screaming "STOP! STOP!" So, being
obedient and honoring my father, I stop. In the middle of the
intersection. Cars all around. And then he changes his tune. "GO! GO!
GO, BLEEPITY-BLEEPIT!" (not speaking ill of the dead, but he did not
say bleepity-bleepit.) So I went, with much wailing and gnashing of
teeth and broke down and sobbed in the CTK parking lot. Pottymouth is
by this time laughing and laughing. But I'm through, I tell him. My
driving days are over. Finis.

And I really didn't drive again until I was 21 and he was dead. I
remember being in his house and he was gone and I thought, why not
give it a shot. Nothing worse can happen. Then I failed three times.

**** Parallel parking. But, the moral of the story is, silly
Velazquezes... If you wait until you're 21 to get your license, you
never get to be alone. And by then you're lugging around a carseat
(well, maybe not) and you will never be alone ever again. Even in the
bathroom.

Learn, young grasshoppers. And take to the road while the takings good.

and if you happen to hit an 18 wheeler, it's
ok to take a break for 18 months or so.

Jess