Coming to Terms with a Moody Wagoneer

Ah, the peace of the wilderness. No sounds but birdsong and the wind whispering in the trees. Certainly, no engine noise from your broke-down car.
It had been the last straw between myself and my Significant Other. We had argued, he had put on his coat. I asked, "Where are you going?"
"I don't know."
"Are you coming back, this time?"
"I don't know," and he fixed me with a glare that said, "See how well you do without me around!"
I shrugged and told him, "Then you better take your stuff." It was early evening, in the Blue Ridge area of the Coconino Forest, not quite dark. S.O. left, walking down the winding dirt road that led to Highway 87.
I waited until he was out of sight, then waited another 15 minutes or so to give him a chance to get onto the highway. I found a cardboard box, put all his things that he left in it, including his pride-and-joy leather bomber jacket, and set it outside on the grass. Then, I got into the Jeep, hooked up to the trailer, and my son and I left for another campsite. As far as I know, that box is still there.
I had never tried to pull a trailer before; I didn't try to go far. I was also leery of crossing paths with S.O. if he was still in the area. As it turned out, he must have gotten a ride pretty quickly. He was back in Michigan in 3 days.
I got the trailer down the road a piece, got it parked and unhitched. Maybe Edna found what I had done unethical. Maybe she was just ticked with me for dumping her pet mechanic. But, sure as shootin', when I tried to start her up and move her to a more appropriate parking spot, she gave me the big no-fire. All crank, no catch, her points were fried. And we were nearly 20 miles from Payson. So my youngest son and I went to our respective beds.
The next day, we got up, got dressed and had some breakfast. Then we started walking to Town. We got a ride pretty quickly; a woman and a small boy aren't threatening. I was not naturally inclined to hitchhike, but when you're faced with that many miles and a small child, what else are you going to do? It turned out to be one of many people who regularly got lunch at the drive-through of the Taco Bell where I worked, so I breathed easier.
On getting to Payson, I got hold of my daughter and her boyfriend. She had been staying with his family. Again, not my favorite solution to a situation, but the alternative was The Woods, so I had let that be. Craig, the boyfriend, went with me for parts, and then back up to the Ridge. After he left, I sat down, facing Edna's grille and sighed. Nate, my son, stood running his fingertips along the blue stripe on Edna's driver-side fender. "Mama, why is she mad?"
"I guess," I said from the ground in front of the car, "she's upset because Bob's gone, now." I turned my attention to the front end of the Jeep. "Look," I frowned at her, "What's done is done. I can't have you throwing temper fits like this. I'm on my days off, right now, but I have to be able to get to work. I have to be able to move the 'house' around. You're all I've got for that, I can't just go move in someplace and be comfortable. Things just aren't set up like that for us right now." Something about the way the front end looked changed. If you really looked, the change wasn't there. But, if you were seeing with "soft" vision, it was there: The ends of the bumper seemed to droop, the headlights seemed to express sadness. "I'm sorry...." came a whispering voice into my mind.
"Mama...I think she's not mad anymore," said Nate, who had come round the front of the car.
There was another change, the bumper ends seemed to come up, and the headlights appeared to all but physically shift to look at my little boy.
"I'm sorry. I'll try to do better." The whisper was a little stronger, a feminine tendency to it, but not in the least human. It was unsettling, to say the least, for me, but Nate was all smiles.
"It's gonna be okay, now, Mama."
One could only hope. But at least my car wasn't going to outright fight with me. She had become my teammate now.

Gettin' Political

Goddess bless Glen Beck. I love that man! Wouldn't want to live with him, so Goddess bless his wife, as well, and I don't agree with everything he says, but praise be that he goes on national TV and says it!!! And my husband has come around, after only a few missed episodes, to the fact that this guy is tellin' it the way it is. That means I get to watch, too. Geraldine Ferraro's comments about Barak Obama, at face value, were true. He's where he is because he's a Black man. That's not, I'm sure, the ONLY reason he's where he is, but it is part of it. Glen, that's not racism Ms. Ferraro expressed, it's fact. When you're Not White, Black, Hispanic, First Nations, Mixed, whatever, you gotta knock yourself out to get anywhere. It's never anything personal, it's just a fact of life in These United States. And isn't it a wonderful thing, it's still true in this country that if you knock yourself out, you can be President, or at least shoot for it, based on the ideas you have to keep this country great!
I've popped at the people that come into the place I work, from time to time. Ya gotta, they're funny. You know, went on vacation and forgot to pack their brains. But one day, about a week ago, a young lady came in wearing an Obama tee shirt. I told her I liked her shirt, yessiree, and she responded, "Really, and me here in the heart of McCain country!" Well, hon, not exactly. I explained that, in the time I've lived in Arizona, I don't recall anything special Mr. McCain has done for his constituency, and, conversely, I really like the idea of a President who doesn't have 40 years of favors to special interests hanging over his head as he tries to run the country. We all but hugged before she left. If Barak Obama is where he is because he's a Black man, it's because he's a person who HAPPENS to be Black and male, and I really think he's the brightest hope this country has had since Bobby Kennedy, and yes, I am that old. Fortunately, Barak is not, and he doesn't have a history with Wal-Mart selling out to China to overcome, or seven years of running around trying to grab the current President's coattails to live down. I'll take my chances with the New Guy, thanks!