I blinked.

And then it was September 22nd.

Holy WHIRLWIND, Batman!

There’s so much going on right now. Here’s one thing:

No one was hurt!!! It could have been so much worse. We’re looking at it as a blessing!

FirstHusband was on the Florida Turnpike in my van, on his way to FavoriteSon’s “away” football game on Friday night. We had decided the two hour drive there, the two hour game and the two hour drive back was too much to ask of PinkGirl considering none of her friends would be going to game either. So PinkGirl and I were home. FirstHusband called about 5:30 p.m. and said:

“No one was hurt, I’m fine, but I just got rear-ended. I’ve gotta go.”

Sometimes, the man KNOWS how to start a sentence. I hung up and thought, rear-ended. No big deal. He’s fine. He drives a Ford F250, so if he’s fine, it’s probably fine. Small aircraft can hit that thing and bounce off.

Then I remembered. He was driving MY van. oh.

Then the texts/phone calls begin.

Text from FirstHusband: “Your registration is expired.”

Me: (to myself) CRUD-OLA! Happy flippin birthday to me, I FORGOT to renew my tag! (text to FirstHusband) “I’M SO SORRY!”

Him: “No worries.”

Me: (to God) “I know we deserve the consequence, Lord, but please don’t let the ticket for an expired tag be too expensive!!!”

Phone Call from FirstHusband: “Where’s your insurance card?”

Me: “In my purse.”

Him: “Not in your van?”

Me: “No, I carry them with me. With my license.”

Him: “I keep mine in my glove compartment.”

Me: “You don’t carry mine in case you drive the van? I carry yours in case I drive the truck.”

So, FirstHusband is on the Florida Turnpike, over an hour away, with a smashed van, waiting on the Florida Highway Patrol to arrive – withOUT proof of insurance and with an expired tag.

And he’s not mad. Gotta love him.

While waiting on the FHP officer, he called and told me what happened. There was a three car accident ahead and traffic on the Turnpike came to a stop. The guy in front of him barely made the stop. HE barely made the stop. Both he and the guy in front of him looked in their rear view mirrors and knew the guy behind FirstHusband was NOT going to make the stop. They both inched forward as far as they could and FirstHusband stood on the brake to (hopefully) keep from hitting the guy in front of him (didn’t work). At the last minute, somehow, the guy ended up on the right side of the van instead of directly behind it, so no full rear impact. AND the guy didn’t hit the traffic in the lane to the right. No one was hurt, everyone was in a pleasant mood and a woman who worked for the Department of Transportation was two cars ahead, so she hung around and told everyone what they needed to do.

Like I said before – it was a BLESSING. I’ve prayed “Thank you, God” more than a few times since Friday night.

And, instead of a citation with a fine, the officer gave FirstHusband a citation and a form to fill out. We had 30 days to mail copies of the proof of insurance and renewed registration to the clerk of the court. It’s in the mailbox right now.

FirstHusband, Later that Night: “In 19 years of marriage, we just learned something new about each other today. You carry both our insurance cards with you and I keep mine in my truck. I thought you kept yours in your van. Neither way is wrong, I just can’t believe after 19 years, we just figured this out about each other.”

Now we figure out what to do about the van, but that’s another story and it’s WHALE of a SALE time! I’ve got to go shop alphabetize books!

I miss SPF2 Coppertone suntan OIL.

We’re trying to work out a week at Daytona Beach Ocean Walk Resort again in the next few weeks. Last summer, we stayed there for 5 nights. SO much fun! I posted photos and a kind of review last year. We loved the fact that everything we wanted to do was within walking distance. We parked the van in the garage when we got there and didn’t get back into it until the day we checked out. The beach, two pools with a lazy river, entertainment complex with movies, restaurants, shops and across the street a water park, arcade, laser tag, go carts, mini-golf and the BEST? A SPA at the hotel that accepted the Spa Finder gift certificate I won at a Christmas party, so I even got a massage! GREAT vacation. Bought it on eBay. Seriously. GREAT deal.

I’m a Florida girl. I went to the beach on Saturdays, some when I was in high school, more when I was in college. I remember I parked my car on the beach at New Smyrna once. (It was allowed back then.) Hung out with friends all day. Then the tide came in. Not good. The tires did not budge. Not good. No cell phones back then. Just lots of freaking out about how much trouble I was going to get in and how I was going to get the car home with an engine full of salt water. Thankfully, lots of tanned, good looking guys, drippin in machismo, surrounded my Mustang and pretty much lifted it out of the sand and back a few feet before it was completely water logged or dragged out to sea and turned into an artificial reef. What? I was 16. I thought it could happen.

So I’ve been to the ocean a few times. Mostly the east coast of Florida. Daytona Beach, Cocoa Beach, Cape Canaveral, Jetty Park, New Smyrna . . . I love the beach. Kinda. Here’s a few things I’ve learned about myself:

I DON’T like swimming in the ocean. I’ve gone in far enough to STAND and catch a wave with a boogie board or a raft, but actually SWIM in the ocean? No. Riptides. Fish touching my legs. The movie Jaws. eek.

I DO like walking, basking, sleeping and reading on the beach. I know I’m not supposed to sleep and bask – skin cancer – I know. I don’t really do it anymore. We all lather up SPF50+ now. But the days of SPF2 Coppertone Suntan OIL? I can still smell it. The deep brown skin and bleached blond hair from a bottle of Sun In spray? Good times. Good times.

I DO like sitting on the beach, building sand castles and sand . . . stuff. Digging trenches. Burying my feet and legs. Digging up sand crabs for bait. Sand fills up in your bathing suit bottom and you have to trudge out to the ocean at least waist deep and do a little dance, hopping nobody has goggles and can hold their breath for a long time.

I DON’T like going to the beach for the DAY. The 60 to 90 minute, sand in my pants, wet bathing suit, sticky skin drive home is miserable. HATE that.

I LOVE going to the beach when we stay overnight. Spending the entire day outside in the sun and sand and getting to take a shower IMMEDIATELY after. Then going out for a bucket of Cajun shrimp and ICE cold beer at Bubba Gumps. Then waking up the next and doing it all over, but with different sea food at the end of the day? Like maybe blackened mahi mahi? Oh, now why did I go there? I’m ready for vacation now.

I LOVE sitting out on the balcony of a hotel at night, listening to the surf and (hopefully, if the moon is right) watching the waves.

I DO like walking on the beach at sunrise and sunset. Breathtaking.

I DO like riding out the channel at Cape Canaveral in a boat EARLY in the morning. You can actually FEEL the tension sliding off your back behind you as you get farther away from land.

I especially like standing on the top deck of a Disney Cruise Ship as it makes its way down the channel.

I DON’T like walking on the beach at night. The scurrying little sand crabs freak me out. If I walk at night, I want a flash light. A BIG one.

oh. And my final DON’T like? Shaving my legs the same day I’m going to the ocean. ow. ow. ow. ow. Shave the night before. Trust me.

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To find out what others learned this week, check out What I Learned this Week hosted by Musings of a Housewife.

Thanks, Kristin for inspiring this post!

it don’t get no easier than that!

About 10:15 this morning, I drove into the parking lot of my favorite mechanic, opened the back of my van and one of the guys immediately came out of the shop, got my tire out of the back and asked me if I wanted to wait for it or come back. I said I could come back around 2:00 p.m. And no, I hadn’t called ahead.

I came back at 2:05 p.m., and as I got out of the van, the same guy came out of the shop to get my keys. He put my tire back on my van and 15 minutes later I was driving to school to pick up PinkGirl.

Because I’ve been going to this family owned shop since 1996, they know me by name. No paperwork for me to fill-out when I dropped off the tire. Since I bought the tires from them and I have road hazard protection, no invoice to pay when I picked it up.

Sweet.

oh. and THEY couldn’t figure out where the spare was supposed to be stored either. That’s because it’s such a stupid location for a spare. Right now, it’s in the back of the van. FirstHusband? FavoriteSon? Thank you for putting my spare back for me.