Tag Archives: cars

Random pictures from last week

My sister was in town so we had to try each beer at Hopworks as she had not been there yet. Also unsurprisingly got burgers, which she declared amazing too.


Took a walk along the waterfront to get a good walk and go to Pendleton to pick up a shirt for Brian. Instead of taking a picture of the beautiful Willamette River, I took a picture of this graffiti instead.

This may be the worst rummy hand ever.


Also admired Tesla, which I would love to own at some point.


License Plates

Oregon is bringing back the blue-and-yellow license plates from my youth, which I was super disappointed to discover I could no longer get when I moved back.

They will be $100 with the money going to the Oregon Historical Society which I know has been struggling this year and also the State Capital Foundation. Wish I could justify it – I love a good Historical Society, and this is definitely my history here. Maybe as a treat next year, I’ll splurge and get one.




As I checked to see how much gas I had yesterday, I began to think about how infrequently I put gas in my car in Portland. I still haven’t filled it up since we returned from San Francisco – I think we put gas into it in Grant’s Pass or in Eugene that night. I don’t really expect to put any gas into it for a week or two yet.

When I was at college, for a while, I commuted one hour each way – so every day, I’d drive down Hwy 43 for two hours. I didn’t have a CD player at that point, but m sister bought a cassette deck – the kind that you could pull out and take with you given how lousy the neighborhood by Marquette could be. I listened to the entire, unabridged Lord of the Rings twice one semester. One winter night, I hit some black ice at 65 miles per hour and spun out, but managed to keep it on the road. For one terrifying minute, I was facing the oncoming traffic, and then, I was back on my way. I was so terrified, I pulled off on the next exit, and shook for about an hour before I could get back on the road. There was no indication at all that there was any ice on the road.

These days, I don’t think I am in my car two hours per *month* unless we have an out-of-state guest. I walk nearly everywhere. I get my groceries often on foot, and if I were slightly less lazy on Saturday mornings, I could take the bus to the farmers’ market and back. I am planning on biking to the Hollywood farmers’ market this summer, and then that’s one less weekly car trip.

It’s strange how that changes – when we first moved to Madison, I lived without a car for three years. It took me 45 minutes to walk to work. Often at 20 degrees. I used it to stay in shape, and when I got a job that required a car, I gained forty pounds or so relatively quickly.

I wouldn’t be without my car now – it’s paid off, it gets good gas mileage, and I can feel the ocean’s pull on me pretty frequently. I also like being able to drive to San Francisco, or Seattle, or Coeur d’Alene or wherever I feel like driving when I want to travel. However, I’m pretty pleased that I’m not so dependent on it, and that my first thought when I want to go somewhere isn’t to jump in the car but rather how long it will take me to walk there.

While I was looking for a picture to post with this, I came across a picture from the winter before we left Madison. This is Brian’s car, out of the back of the house, with one evening’s snow on it. I don’t miss that, even a little. You’d have to plan a good 15 extra minutes in the morning to shovel off your car and warm it up to be able to drive. Strange.

Brian's car with one night's snow in Madison, WI.

Brian's car with one night's snow in Madison, WI.

The Horror

Dr Evermor sculpture
Dr. Evermor sculpture of a spider. Or bug.

A few weeks ago, when I was driving around town, I noticed some weird little white dots on the rubber on the driver’s side mirror on my car. When they were perhaps half a centimeter or so. When I had a chance, I rolled down the window and took a closer look at them, and realized they were some sort of egg. Ewwwwwww. The passenger’s side had them too. I took a small stick and scraped them off and then jumped up and down on the stick until I felt better. Whew.

The next day, there was one more. Didn’t stress about it, scraped it off and all is good.

Yesterday, when we were opening the trunk to put away groceries from Fubonn, Brian suddenly said sharply, “Watch out!”

It took me a minute to realize that there was a spider a few inches from my hand. It was a mean looking one – about the size of a big toe’s toenail, and it was brown, and patterned, and a little furry. It was the largest spider I’ve seen outside of a pet store, I think.

Brian quickly grabbed a leaf, handily stored in the crevase between my trunk and the outside of my car and squashed it.

And then he said (I actually don’t remember his exact exclamation, but I’ll say it was this), “Oh my god…” and pointed. To the hundreds and hundreds of little white eggs all around the rim of my trunk door on the rubber. So many of them.

And then he pointed out that they were all around the seals on the backseat doors.

And then, and somehow just compounding the horror, he slowly opened the passenger door on the front seat. And pointed out how they were all over the door on the metal (so maybe not inside? I’m going with that, so don’t disabuse me of that notion).

It took everything he had to prevent me from calling a cab and abandoning my much-beloved (until now!) car in the Fubonn parking lot. He also had to talk me out of perching on the armrest in the center of the front seat and making him drive home. And that talk was followed by a long lecture about how I couldn’t sell my nice dependable paid-off car just because of a few thousand spider eggs.


This is definitely filed under the “things I didn’t know were a possibility, and would have been better off never learning.”

I know I’ve put off washing my car for a while (I need to find supplies that won’t kill everything in sight, and I didn’t want to spend the money on going to a car wash) but holy shit. Not. cool.

Brian, on the other hand, is much braver and cooler than I am. He is currently at the car wash, having called them and talked them into cleaning all the spider eggs off my car.


No turns!

Oh, and classic:

I had just finished telling Carrie about how Portland doesn’t let you turn left usually, when we got stuck at a green light because someone was trying to turn left off W Burnside directly under a “No Turns” sign.

I was waiting fairly patiently – Carrie mentioned she would have honked by now, but I couldn’t tell if traffic was just backed up or if someone was making an illegal turn, and I didn’t want to be a dick to the guy in front of me who wasn’t involved.

Just then, traffic coming the other way met up with us, and this guy in a truck, probably 50 or so, sticks his head calmly out the window to the illegal turner-guy and yells, politely, “There’s no turns here!” in a you-are-being-an-asshole sort of way.

At which point we finally got to move :)