Lessons From Aunt Karen’s Car

“Oh the crystal chandeliers light up the paintings on your wall…”

Charlie Pride warbled away from the 8-track in the dashboard. That tape played so much that I still remember the words. I know all about Charlie’s stately-standing marble statuettes, too.

Suddenly the grey Pontiac – (maybe it was an Olds but I think it was a Pontiac) was floored and we took off with a roar. We girls in the back (myself and my cousins) giggled.

“Just blowing the carbon out.” Aunt Karen commented with a twinkle In her eye. She did it again for good measure. Sure enough, black smoke blew out of the tailpipe as we sped along.

I used to spend a week or two at Aunt Karen’s every summer. Aunt Karen and Uncle Ron had a farm and they kept sheep at one time which provided lots of thing for me and my cousins to get into. And who can resist adorable baby lambs? There was usually a bottle-baby “Lambie” toddling around.

A creek of sorts of grubby, sheep waste-water ran between the barn and fields. It was the inviting colors of green and brown. I recall my older cousin coming up behind my younger cousin as she stood on the bank of this questionable water-way. My older cousin suddenly and firmly grabbed handfuls of my younger cousin’s shirt and shoved her straight at this reeking sh** creek, then yanked her back again at the last second. The look of startled horror on my younger cousin’s face as she thought she was unexpectedly going in still makes me giggle to this day when I think of that.

I thought of Karen yesterday morning, on my way back to the camper after my shift, as I floored the van in hopes of de-gunking anything that may be in the catalytic converter. I didn’t have Charlie Pride playing, but I did have my USB stick in the stereo going. I don’t need a Charlie Pride tape because even after all these years, I still think I could sing those songs myself.

Now I’m about 970 miles straight west of the aforementioned Pontiac/Pride shenanigans, but just as far north. At this time of year the sun only goes down here for about 5.5 hours. It can throw off your internal clock a little bit to still see remnants of daylight at 10:30 pm. When the sun finally goes all the way down, penetrating blackness carpets the forests and mountains. Sometimes the moon in varying phases peeks down from the sky.

I then grab a giant flashlight, swinging the brush outside for large critters or maybe a stray Sasquatch as I go, and hop on the golf cart and go check around the buildings and outbuildings standing quietly in the inky blackness. So far, no beady eyes have been lurking and peeking back at me in my wee-hour forest patrols. The golf cart doesn’t have an 8-track player, but if it did Charlie Pride could serenade as a midnight bear alert. Who needs jingly bear-bells when you have crystal chandeliers?

I haven’t spotted any bears for a few weeks. They’ve been around but they haven’t manifested again yet during my shifts. One guest very wistfully asked me about bears recently during an earlier shift, disappointed that he and his wife hadn’t seen any yet. I had to tell him we just couldn’t predict when they might appear.

I finish up my rounds and head back for one of the buildings as a gentle pine-scented breeze ruffles my hair.

Soon I’ll be back in the van again. Formerly I was kind of coddling Ms. Vandura – and I mostly still will drive her easy. BUT sometimes it’s just necessary to occasionally blow the carbon out.

Actually that’s maybe a good idea in general – when things get stale or clogged, floor it – sometimes it’s just necessary to blow the carbon out!