AmyKossBlogThang: My Van

AmyKossBlogThang: My Van: I know there are worse things going on but I just called the guy at the garage to find out when I was getting my van back. It was rear-en...

My Van

I know there are worse things  but I just called the guy at the garage to find out when I was getting my van back. It was rear-ended on the freeway the other day and the car that hit mine kinda wedged its nose up my van's butt. My van  looked uncomfortable but the other car looked way worse than mine, face crunched, air bags out and glass everywhere. 

I'd just been worried that I'd have to lose my three bumper stickers. One was my son's band, Fool Gator. The second was a Save the Los Angeles Library sticker from the protest over funding for library hours and staff. The third was from the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators, (SCBWI) that said, Peace Love and Children's books.

But it turns out that not only am I losing the bumper stickers and the bumper, I'm losing the whole entire van.

The garage guy (very casually) said my van is "totalled out!" 
But it was just a bump! A flesh wound!
"No," he said, "when they are over fourteen it doesn't take much."

Now like in any sad love story, it's time for the photo montage of romantic, sweet things my van and I did together over the years. Shots of the back seats full of my kids and their little friends. My dearly departed dog Sweetie as a puppy, chewing up  the seat belts at $100.00 a pop. Driving my daughter to Children's Hospital fresh from her cancer diagnosis. Bringing her home cured, in triumph. 

Sitting in the driveway to listen to This American Life without interruption. 

Heading home after dropping the last kid at college when the van thoughtfully died in the middle of the desert as the perfect distraction from saddness.

When Obama instituted Cash for Clunkers and everyone suggested I trade in my rattly old gas-guzzler, I thought, NO! It's my van! Does loyalty mean nothing? 

Never mind that it doesn't have a visor on the passenger side and everyone gets blinded driving with me. 
Never mind the enormous dents along the sides from those pesky yellow poles that are always jumping out at a person.
Never mind the tire thumping loose in the back since that drunk tow-truck guy took off with the jack that held my spare in place.
Never mind the mysterious smell.
It was my van for fourteen years, and now it is gone, and that is that.

xo amy 

AmyKossBlogThang: Grub Season!!!

AmyKossBlogThang: Grub Season!!!: I was just digging in the dirt, as one does when one has just showered and has work to do, when I discovered that it is once again GRUB S...

Grub Season!!!

I was just digging in the dirt, as one does when one has just showered and has work to do, when I discovered that it is once again GRUB SEASON! 

I sat peacefully sifting out the grubs and flicking them into a bucket, losing count after 43, when these things occurred to me: 

1. I must be a grown up to be able to do this without even wearing garden gloves. As a kid I would have run SCREAMING from the sight, and needed twenty two showers minimum. 
2. I’m a hypocrite, blithely tossing the live & wiggly grubs into the garden trimmings/recycle bucket so the city, not me, will be ultimately responsible for killing them, or for spreading my grub infestation through city compost. And I am a hypocrite as an animal lover who feels morally superior for not eating mammals or wearing leather, yet assigning innocent grubs to trauma, homelessness and their likely death.

                                           Why was I ok with this hypocrisy?  

                               The answer seemed to be: GRUBS ARE NOT CUTE.

CUTE

NOT CUTE

Grubs are little, which usually makes things cute. And they curl up like baby humans and kitties. It’s not just their lack of fur or feathers because little turtles and lizards are cute... We even think animals who could rip us to bits are cute: bears, lions. 

A few weeks ago my sister-in-law, normally a macho and reasonable person, completely lost it over an earwig in her house. She insisted that it was NOT the kind of bug you move outside, it was the kind you SQUASH!

I laughed at her at the time, but having just spent 45 minutes sending innocent beings to their death, I get it!

It's not because they're ugly. It is because they are the ones who'll win. They are the ones who will have the last word and their smirking, underworld smugness creeps us out. They are the death-bugs who will eat our eyes and enter our orifices when we can no longer defend ourselves. Unlike bears and lions, we will have no fighting chance against the grubs.

No, wait. These grubs have been devouring the roots of everything I plant. They must be vegetarians, like me. Hmm. Maybe this is about garden revenge. Or maybe I'm just a gigantic bully.

xo Amy