dis-obey: to fail to obey

If you’ve been reading MySistersJar for several years, you will remember my story about the trips to the dump when the road was closed.  (https://mysistersjar.wordpress.com/2008/04/04/frazzled-mother-goes-ballistic-at-city-dump/) That road is Dixileta.  That short-cut, albeit crazy-bumpy, has been used in our digs for several years.  It’s right near my parent’s home and is the quickest way onto the freeway heading into Phoenix.  Nora refers to it as “la avenida de montaña” …the mountain avenue!  The drop on that crazy pavement is rollercoaster worthy if you are speeding!

A few weeks back, the city put up signs telling all of us who use that road, that if we weren’t driving a truck we were breaking the law.  WHAT?  How can they do that?  Easy.  Slap up a few signs… and post a policeman.

With my mother in the car, I disobeyed (that’s what the ticket said!) and took the shortcut anyway.  Not a good idea with the nice officer of the law waiting for me.  He did kindly explain the reason for the signs.  Seems the road does not belong to the city.  It is owned by the gravel company that is located just east of the signs.  It was put in for the gravel trucks, which is good because then they don’t rumble down through our neighborhood.  The city told the gravel company to do some repairs on their road.  They replied, “No, get your traffic off our road.”  And up went the signs.

So, because of my glowing flawless violation record I had the option of choosing traffic school.  yippee…..  BUT, things have improved over the years and I was able to take it online… in my pjs… while wrapping gifts, folding laundry, washing dishes and feeding the fish.  ALSO, I found one that is called Improv Driving School.  Yes, you read that right… IMPROV!  All that means is that they added sarcastic comments after the real rules of the road… and they offer 5-10 minute videos of traffic jokes at the beginning of each lesson… that aren’t required.  I thought the videos were dumb at first (well, I still do) but each of the ten lessons is timed.  They are approximately 23 minutes each… WAY more time than is necessary to read the information and answer the three questions EVEN if you are only in grade four at the present time.  So I skipped the videos, read the info, did the review and clicked on ‘take the test.’  It told me that I didn’t spend enough time reading the material… there is a clock that counts down for you.  Good grief.  If I read the whole chapter S L O W L Y, pronouncing every syllable from 25 feet with one eye covered, I would still have to wait for the clock.  This IS just the same as wasting my time in a class, except for the fact that I can go get things crossed off my to-do list while I wait for the clock to count down.  Sheesh.

Did you hear the one about the driver who died from being hit in the head by a kleenex box? (Seriously, that was on there!)

Monday’s Smorgasbord

My favorite words by Nora and the definitions by yours truly:

1. Teddy Burr (teddy bear):  when a stuffed animal gets under your saddle.
2. Unnerwhere (undies): what’s that unner there?… unnerwhere?
3. Peaksa (pizza): when you take a little looksie in the oven door to see if the cheese is indeed melted.
4. Enbalope (envelope): when you quit eloping earlier than planned.
5. Austeen (Austin): the new teenage version of her older brother.
6. Chickenout (check it out): what you do when you are too scared to jump into the cold water.
7. Heronimo (Geronimo): an old Indian hero – Nora yells this when she jumps into the swimming pool.

Other tidbits of information from today’s saga:  VBS has begun… hip hip hooray!  My mother and I went shopping and out to lunch!  Boooyah!  The colorful fabrics at JoAnn’s caused me to be deeply inspired to CREATE!  I bought a pattern to sew a dress for Nora!  Ohhhhyeah!  I was dismissed from jury duty before they even saw my outfit!  Rockonnnnn! And I got a ticket from a nice officer of the law.  Booo-hisssss!  Traffic school, here I come! No, I wasn’t speeding… the city closed the road that is the closest entrance onto the freeway… and I took it anyway… for the last time.

Frazzled Mother Goes Ballistic at City Dump

All I can say is, I was SO close to being that headline in tonight’s nightly news.  Thank God, I’m not.

In the middle of the night last night, when my brain full of buzzing wires was still at work, I figured out that 440 copies of my new book will be delivered here VERY SOON.  Intervention was needed in the garage to make space available.  I rounded up my strong sons and we loaded the back of the van for a trip to the dump….. an old, HUGE TV, a dead computer monitor with all the attachments, a broken sled from 1970 (made me sad… it was mine), a bike frame, another delapatated bike, a warped piece of plywood and some crutches minus the large rubber stoppers from the bottoms.

Once a month at the Phx. City sanitation transfer station (the dump) if you bring your water/sewer bill your trip is free instead of $20.  I dug out a bill from the file cabinet and we were off.  The area that surrounds our home is in the heat of roadway reconstruction.  The dump is 2 miles straight north of our home, but I had to head south for 2.5 miles first. 

I’ve only been to this transfer station once about two years ago.  I forgot that the drive up window lane is on a gigantic scale.  So I mistakenly drove up on the scale behind the guy in front of me.  The dump lady hung out the window and flapped her arm at me to get off the scale.  I s-l-o-w-l-y backed down the skinny ramp.

The guy in the white truck currently at the window was having issues…. not just crazy-woman-driver-behind-on-the-scale issues…. other issues.   Five, maybe eight-minute-long issues.  I finally backed out of my lane and went to the next lane.  Then the aforementioned white truck drove through…. and so did four other trucks behind him…. while I waited for the gentleman in the gray truck who had issues.

I eventually arrived at the window, only to be told that the water/sewer ticket in my hand was three days passed the 60 day expiration limit…. and VOID.  Bummer, dude.  I drove seven miles back home, dug through my husband’s top dresser drawer filing system and found a current ticket to the dump.  The boys and I grabbed snacks, drinks and got back in the minivan full of junk.  Another seven mile drive to the city facility…. and when I pulled up to the same window with the same nice lady….. I COULDN’T FIND MY TICKET!  I almost cried.  We searched high and low.  Nada.  The angel-lady watched us search for about five minutes (maybe this was the issue with the other men??) and she finally said, “What’s your name, honey?” 

“Linda Crosby.” 

Then she made my frazzled day by saying, “I’m so proud of you for not yelling at your kids.  You give kids something to hold and they lose it every time!  I know you made the effort and went all the way home.  You can go through this time without a water bill.”  I thanked her 27 times.  (I didn’t tell her that it was ME who left the bill at home.)

My son said to me, “I thought we were going to have to go home and come back again and I was going to stay home this time!”  I think I would’ve stayed home too!  God bless the lady at the dump.

www.LindaCrosby.com