Which, while unnerving, is better than its being repossessed. When I fired it up after work today, the door ajar light came on, and the ding-ding-ding began. So I pulled it over, got out and opened and closed all four doors, got back behind the wheel, and drove about 25 feet before it started up again. Whenever I got to a red light, I'd open the driver's door and slam it shut, buying myself maybe a minute's peace. Then the dome light started coming on intermittently. Fine.
Middlest was still under the weather, so I headed to the new Knit Night, putting my right hand up to cover the come light from time to time, so people wouldn't think I was soliciting. Because, ewww.
When I got to the yarn shop, I shut off the motor, did a quick check of Facebook, and was preparing to get out of the car. I'd been stopped for roughly five minutes. The dome light came back on, and there was a clicking behind the dashboard. Not being inclined to dash out of a perfectly good yarn shop every fifteen minutes to make sure that the battery had not run down, I gave up knitting as a lost cause and headed home. Praying, and laughing at the absurdity of the situation, and praying some more. When I was about three-fourths of the way home, I grabbed the phone and said, "OK, google. Auto Zone near me." There was one about a mile east of the light just ahead, so there I went. The guy said it sounded like a bad door sensor, and he very kindly removed the bulbs from the dome light so it wouldn't wipe out the battery overnight. And it was too dark for him to put the lens back on, so the light bulbs are nestled in the lens on the passenger seat like two very opinionated pearls.
I don't know if we will be able to pick up our quilt blocks on Saturday, because I intend to be at the garage when it opens at 8:00a.m., and I don't know if they can fix it quickly. While I'm there, I'll have them look at the instrument panel, which is gradually going dim. The tach doesn't light up at all, and the speedometer is only lit between 40 and 80 mph.
First world problems. I'm glad it's something like this, and not a wheel coming off at freeway speed, or the alternator, or a left-threaded gezornablatt that has to be ordered from Moldavia.
This is the part where I pour another mug of milk and go fix the thumb on Middlest's mitt (that I botched by knitting it at approximately midnight last night and frogged during lunch today). It's been a fairly amazing day, even before the Tardis decided to complicate my life.
Middlest and I went to the college this morning, got some straight answers, got the classes held while we wait to see if the financial aid is awarded (it's been approved but not released to Middlest) before drop day, or if I need to take off a week from tomorrow and help with the payment arrangements, get something wired from my line of credit to be repaid when the grant comes through. Middlest is still fighting the upper respiratory bug and is utterly knackered. I was blessed to get a full day's worth of work crammed into the six hours I was at my desk. I'm tired, but peaceful about my kid starting school week after next. Not sure exactly how it will fall together, but confident that it shall.
Knitting. Right, then.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!