Car Keys, Cattle and Carnage Part V, in which the other shoe boot drops

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

We tried to enjoy our week as best we could, biding our time until Friday (Read: Payday). Finally Jessie was finished with his workweek and ready to join us at the condo.

His plan was to have the locksmith out as soon as he was done, and to drive directly down to Naples in our newly liberated van once the locksmith had cut the key. He called me when the locksmith was on his way over, assuring me he'd call again once he was on the road. A half hour went by. No call. I waited a few more minutes, but could bear the suspense no longer. I called Jessie. "Are you on your way yet?" Silence - and then, "Babe, you know how we could pull the key out of our ignition even when the van was running?" "Um, yeah?" "The locksmith cut the key, and it fits in the ignition, but it won't turn over since the ignition has a flaw." I imagined having to replace the entire steering column next, all because we lost our stinkin' key. But Jessie was talking again. The locksmith had just informed him that he happened to have an ignition for our model of van in his truck. He was sure he'd be able to get the old ignition out with his equipment. For $90 plus his service charge, we could have the new ignition installed and a key that actually worked in it.

A half hour later Jessie called me. I had no expectations by this time. But, he informed me with jubilation that he was actually driving in our van, and on the way down to join us! We were so relieved! Finally we had transportation again. We felt rueful about the expenses we had already accrued in this fiasco, and had yet to pay out before the truck would be usable again, but at least things were finally looking up!

We were able to have a lovely time with family despite the fact that we'd had so much wind taken out of our sails the previous week. We headed home Sunday night after bidding farewell to our visiting family. It had been a great time.

By late Monday morning things had gotten back to normal for the most part. I started unpacking the bags from our stay at the condo after breakfast. I carried an armful of clothes into the girls' room to be put away, and almost stepped on a set of keys lying on the floor just inside their doorway. Sudden realization coursed through me, and my voice was shrill almost to a screaming point when I called Jessie to come and look. He arrived quickly, and his gaze followed my pointing finger to rest on the set of keys lying ingloriously in the doorway. He stared at them stupidly for a moment, and then, in a flash of sheer brilliance, he turned to Eliza (who was just barely two at the time). "Eliza", he said sweetly, "Can you please put the keys back where you found them?" Eliza, delighted to oblige, scooped up the keys without hesitation and pitter-pattered down the hallway. She reached the coat closet and confidently pulled open the door, sat her little bum on the floor, selected a pink cowboy boot from the assorted shoes cluttering the floor of the closet, and dropped the ring of keys inside.

A few addendums:

Now, I assure you, in our previous search Jessie had thoroughly searched this closet, shaking each shoe and looking inside. However, we found that when a set of keys is lodged deep inside the toe of a size 8 pink cowboy boot, they do not rattle, and are not visible from the top. And since this all happened in July, the boots had not been worn at all for several months at least.

Thus ends the saga of the keys. Well, not quite ended. The truck parts did take 6 weeks to arrive, and when they did, they were the wrong color. But we had them painted and Jessie spent the entire next Saturday successfully repairing the truck.

The End

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage Part IV, in which we curse used car lots.

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part I

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part II

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part III

At the dealership we paid our $20. to have a duplicate key made, and shifted our attention on the way home to the issue of getting the truck repaired. Of course we knew that we needed to repair it out of our own pockets since it was not damaged in an accident related to company business. Jessie felt pretty confident that he could get most of the parts used and repair it himself, cause he's studly like that. We knew that the parts would still add up to quite a handy sum though.

After we got home and put the girls down for their naps, Jessie meandered out to the van with the intent of taking it to the filling station, since it had been very low on gas before it had been rendered useless for the weekend.

I knew it was an ominous sign when Jessie returned to the house wearing a defeated look on his face less than 2 minutes after walking out. "Hey babe, you know how our ignition key has never worked in the passenger door?" I waited. But apparently he wanted a response, or for me to make my own inferences. "Um, yeah?" I could vaguely see where this was headed. "I think the ignition on our van was switched out before we bought it." "Meaning..." "This key doesn't work in the ignition." "But", he added helpfully, "It does work in the passenger door."

There really should be a limit to cruel ironies, I decided.

I mentally included "new ignition assembly" on the list of car parts I would be requesting over the phone from various salvage yards on Monday.

We spent most of the week at a condo in Naples with my sister's family, because they were vacationing there, and Jessie has business that takes him down several times a week anyways. While there, I busied myself with making calls to various scrap yards and car parts stores. I discovered through the course of days that 1) the parts for the truck could take up to 6 weeks to obtain . 2) a new ignition assembly would do us no good since the old one cannot be removed without using the original key. 3) our only option was to have a locksmith come out and cut us a new key for the current ignition. 4) People who own scrap yards invariably talk like Larry the Cable Guy.

To Be Continued.

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage Part III, In which we give up the van keys for lost

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage Part I

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage Part II

This probably sounds completely ludicrous, but on my way home I was overwhelmed with a feeling of special-ness (if that's a word). I almost felt like God had winked at me. I have travelled that road many times, before and after the accident, and never again have I seen a cow out of its pasture. Was He lovingly teaching me not to ignore my nagging cautions (i. e. about rationalizing the use of Jessie's work vehicle - or about my pride and unwillingness to turn over a simple job to my husband)? If so, He certainly was doing it in a way that was hard to miss (haha, I know, horrible). I really appreciate it when God is obvious, because sometimes I can be kind of dense. Or maybe He just wanted to show me/us that we didn't have control over everything, but that He did, and that's ok; probably both, I've concluded since then. I didn't feel like He was angry with me. He protected me from being injured in what certainly could have been a much more serious accident. I thanked Him for the lesson, and felt free to laugh over it with Him. My mood changed to a more light-hearted one on the way home, even as I dodged a couple of armadilloes in the road, and I tipped my hat to God's sense of humor.

Upon my return, Jessie viewed the damage to the truck, and I pulled bits of glass from my arm and legs. All of you animal lovers will be happy to know that Jessie felt pretty confident from the amount of damage he saw, that the cow did not meet its demise that night, and was likely not even much the worse for wear (it likely spent many more happy days in the pasture, soaking up the sun and becoming plumper and svelte-er before making its way to the slaughterhouse). We'll just have to take his word for it, because he's a farm boy, and because I never did see or hear about what became of that cow.

Due to the lateness of the hour, and the harrowing nature of the evening's events, we decided to put off the search for the lost van keys until the next day.

Accordingly, bright and early the next morning we began our exhaustive search of the house and premises. We sifted through the contents of every closet, looked under and in every piece of furniture, checked and re-checked the pockets of all clothing items, clean or otherwise, and generally ransacked the entire house, garage, driveway, and both vehicles until we were left to conclude that the keys had either been raptured, or forcibly flushed down the toilet.

Obviously, attending the baby shower was out of the question by now. But later in the day, after much guffawing and clever jibes of a bovine nature, Jessie's co-worker came to our rescue and brought us his second vehicle to be used until further notice. The plan was to drive to the nearest Dodge dealership that day (30 miles away) and have them cut a new key for our ignition. The dealerships can do this if they have the vehicle identification number. We were relieved that at least the van part of the episode was nearing closure.

To Be Continued.

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part II, in which I scream like a little girl.

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part I

I grabbed my purse and headed out of our subdivision. If you turn left out of our sub, you get to the highway very quickly, but if you turn right, there is nothing but fields and cow pastures for six miles until you hit the road that leads to Publix. This is a very pleasant drive during the daytime. Having grown up in the middle of a big city myself, I've always enjoyed it. But I'd never driven it at nighttime before. It suddenly seemed like a long, dark, lonely road. There are no lights on this road, so I used my highbeams. I was cruising along at about 45 mph (a conservative speed for this road) when I turned off my brights momentarily so as not to blind an approaching vehicle. When I switched them back on, I was greeted by the suddenly illuminated vision of the black hindquarters of a large animal looming in front of me. This was barely even noted before I collided with the spectre-like rear end.

I scream as I have never screamed before. I am aware of being pelted with what I imagine must be the gory remains of the cow. I pull over to the side of the road and scream/sob with horror and loathing. There is something in my mouth. I realize it is glass. Only then do I see that my driver's side window is broken and lying in pieces all over my lap. I am grateful that it is only glass, and not bovine remains. I am too shaky and freaked out to find my phone and call Jessie, and I now feel very exposed, sitting alone on the side of a dark, abandoned road with no window. I cannot bring myself to get out of the truck and check on the condition of the cow. The prospects of surveying my recent slaughter, or encountering a staggering, undead cow are equally horrific to me. So I do the only thing that I can do in the current state of cowardice that I have been reduced to. I continue on. I can't turn around and go home, because then I might see it.

I am relieved that the truck's driving abilities don't seem to be at all affected by the collision, and start wondering what kind of damage it does have. Another chunk of the window breaks off and falls in my lap every few minutes, causing me to jump every time. I finally reach the parking lot of Publix, where I first call the police to inform them that they may need to euthanize a cow, then I call Jessie. He answers. "Are you there yet?" "Yes." I search for words. "Well, the good news is that I'm alive." Immediate concern fills his voice. "Did you hit something" (he told me later he was thinking maybe an armadillo, or a wild pig at worst). "Yes. A cow." "A WHAT??!" "Are you sure you're ok?" I glance over myself. "Well, I'm bleeding. But only because there is glass in my arm." After assuring him that it is inconsequential, I get out and observe the damage to the truck. Apparently I hit the cow with my driver's side headlight, (now broken) which caused it to spin around, dent the front fender, and hit my rear-view mirror, which in turn forcibly crashed through my window.

By this time Publix has already closed and I have nothing left to do but to head home, the other way.

To Be Continued.

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage, Part I

Car Keys, Cattle, and Carnage - Part I, in which the stage is set.

More than a year after this actual saga took place, I finally feel myself far enough detached from all the gory details to actually record the sequence of events. I record them because it is a ridiculous story that we will want to remember someday. And there are so many details involved that I don't trust my brain to retain them for posterity.

Our story begins on a muggy Friday evening in mid July of 2009. Bedtime for the girls was approaching, and I was planning a trip to Publix to pick up fruit for the tray I was to bring to a baby shower the next morning. After the girls were tucked snug in their beds, I went to the drawer where we usually keep the keys to our van. No keys were to be found within. Jessie and I scanned all the alternate places where keys might be carelessly laid by one of us - still no keys. After about a half hour of more in depth searching with no results, we realized that Publix was going to close soon and we'd have to abandon the search until later. Not wanting to entrust Jessie with the job of choosing the fruit for my tray, I decided to take his work truck myself and make the quick dash to Publix and back. Note: I had never used his truck before, and we never use it for personal errands - it was deemed a desperate times call for desperate measures sort of situation.

We didn't even know the meaning of the word 'desperate' at that point, but we soon would...

To Be Continued.