Last week, Eldest Daughter attended a writing workshop in Eastern Pennsylvania. Because of situations and circumstances, it became clear that I would drive her there, and the other children would come along too. I was filled with trepidation because I tend to get quite tired while driving, three hours being pretty much the max I'd ever attempt, and I'd be doing the drive unaided. All eight hours of it.
There was no use fretting since worrying would change nothing, and we set out Friday morning. The drive was fairly uneventful, save for beautiful scenery and an unexpected early trip into Pennsylvania because I didn't print out the directions that I really wanted.
We arrived at the hotel and after settling in, decided that we desperately needed pizza from Anthony's Coal Fired Pizza. We'd eaten at this chain in Pittsburgh, and it was truly the best I'd had in my life, albeit a little charred (as advertised.) We finally found the restaurant in Wilmington, Delaware, no thanks to Apple's SIRI, and headed back to the hotel. What a disappointment; it wasn't anything like Pittsburgh's Food of the Gods. But at least the salad was good. And we got to see a Tesla Roadster on the way.
Next morning we delivered Nervous Eldest Daughter to the workshop and the rest of us set off for
Longwood Gardens. I figured any property that was over 1000 acres would keep us busy for a while. Even though I'd seen pictures online, I wasn't prepared for the beauty of it all. Youngest Son (nine years old) even asked how he could get a job there, and we were planning the next visit almost as soon as we arrived. The place was so serene and peaceful, but probably only because it was still morning. We found out later that evening is when the place starts looking like a city, because that's when lights illuminate everything, various shows (water and lights) are scheduled, and musical concerts take place.
The biggest surprise at Longwood Gardens is that it houses the world's largest home pipe organ which is used for a famous concert series, and there's also a pipe organ museum inside the conservatory. What a coincidence! Unfortunately, maintenance was being performed that day, so we didn't get to hear it. Sad face.
After retrieving Elated Eldest Daughter from the workshop, we attended Mass then returned to the gardens because I couldn't imagine her not seeing this place. Aching feet and legs, and sheer exhaustion led us to leave earlier than we wanted, but c'est la vie.
Tree House. One of the many ways to keep the kiddos entertained.
A note about the church where we attended Mass; the exterior looked like a ski lodge:
Or does it look like the West Virginia Welcome Center?
You be the judge.
I planned to return home by a different route that I thought would prove more scenic than the Pennsylvania Toll Road. And in my naiveté I thought that Sunday morning traffic around the Baltimore beltway would be fairly light because, ya know, it's Sunday morning.
I was wrong.
The traffic was nearly nightmarish, not only being very busy but at high rates of speed. When we got the heck out of there, I figured we could stop in another city in Maryland for lunch, since I think we all agreed that the salami in the cooler was gross. Unfortunately, lunch traffic there was out of control, so I reluctantly returned to the highway.
Things are a little sparse in those parts, so I drove for a while longer, and the time got later and later, but the kids weren't complaining about starving. Mary, however, does not operate well when she lacks food, so I kept looking. SIRI informed us there was a place to eat in a tiny town coming up. I found the place; no one was parked there, and it just didn't "feel right." Back on the highway.
Morgantown, West Virginia. Middle of the afternoon. I see the sign for a Bob Evans. We pull off, and sign informs us it's .6 miles away. Over a mile later, it's clear that there's no Bob Evans and I realize it must have been at the shopping center at the exit. I turn around, and...
What's that sound?
It's a disturbing racket coming from the front of the car on the right side. I decide that I'm going to drive to the shopping center, and then will deal with it there. No one is honking at me because something looks disturbing, and the car isn't driving like there's a flat tire. We still hear the sound as we drive to the shopping center and we find the Bob Evans. I believe the car is unsafe to drive, and send the kids inside to get something to eat while I call AAA. (I would like the gentle reader to be assured that I've switched to present tense on purpose.)
After failing in my attempt to find a rental van, the tow truck shows up to inspect the crippled vehicle. He drives it around the lot, parks, and tells me that a garage is going to charge me a whole lot of money to diagnose the problem, because this, this, and this could be a problem, but none of those things would make the car unsafe to drive.
However, before he leaves, he's going to check the lug nuts. As he said that, Eldest Son (who'd finished eating and had come outside) and I looked down and noticed that a few of the lug nuts were positioned further out than the others.
As the
tow truck driver guardian angel went to take the right front tire off, he wiggled it first. THAT WAS THE SOUND. Three of the lug nuts were loose, so the tire was rather floppy. He cleaned up some dirt on the inside of the wheel, and repositioned the tire. He checked the other tires. Four loose. Two loose. Three loose. He tightened everything up, and we were on our way.
Thank God we'd not found a place to eat earlier; if we had, we would have been on the road as the wheel got looser and looser. And I may not have heard the sound it was making, as we traveled at speeds up to 80 mph. On mountain roads. In heavy traffic.
This week I returned to the shop where the tires had been rotated earlier this month. I told them what happened. They were extremely apologetic, of course, and agreed to my demand of removing all charges for the "work." The vehicle should be inspected for damage that may have occurred as a result of their negligence, but I haven't had time to do it yet.
We're just glad to be alive, because it could've turned out differently.
And there's much more that's happened this week, perhaps better left for another blog post.
Meanwhile, we're still planning the next trip to Longwood Gardens.
