Hikers, Slurpees and Jolene Gets Cocky

It's overcast, gray and colder than penguin snot in the holler this morning. I had to crank up the heat ya'll.. my toes were little blue numb nuggets.

Such is spring in the South.

I know spring has arrived, the march of trail weary backpackers by my kitchen window gets more populated every day. Their little eyes are always so full of hope when they come off the trail and hit pavement, the maps tell them there's a town just beyond the next curve. You can just see the visions of Mickey D's golden arches and 7-Eleven Slurpees dancing over their heads. When they reach the other end of town in ten minutes (that's ten minutes on foot) their little faces turn to confusion. You can see them standing on the far side of the big river bridge, looking hopefully up the road that crosses the mountain, thinking maybe they missed something.

They eventually end up at the Grab n' Go (and go and go) where they can enjoy the luxury of flush toilets (most of the time) after a big fat Grease Burger.

Bless their hearts.


Ya'll will be pleased to know that I finally bought the mutha feckin' rotors and crap for the truck. They're still not ON the truck, but I'm one step closer. While driving through Scary Hillbilly Town to the auto parts store, the digital readout thingie on the dash suddenly popped up that my coolant levels were low. This surprised me because it's been bickering at me that it's time to change the oil for three months now. I wasn't expecting a new message.

On a side note, it's a good thing I've got a vehicle that pops up little idiot messages all the time, seeing how I've had Jolene for over a year now and I've never even popped the hood.

Don't judge me.. I've had alot of crap on my mind.. okay?

When I saw the message, I told the Amazon that since we were all the way out there anyway, we should run by Wally World and get the oil changed, because I knew they'd check the tire pressure, the fluid levels and all that jazz.

Imagine my eye rolling angst when I discovered they check everything BUT the coolant level. Oh well.. at least now I won't have to see "OH MY GAWD WOULD YOU PLEASE CHANGE MY FREAKIN' OIL? WOULD YOU LIKE SLUDGE COURSING THROUGH YOUR VEINS?? ARE YOU REALLY THIS DAMN CLUELESS?" "CHANGE ENGINE OIL" where the odometer reading should be every time I start her up.

Don't worry. I bought a jug o' coolant at the Wally World. I'll tend to that sometime today.

Ah well...Pork ribblets are simmering in the slow cooker under a blanket of BBQ sauce, so in a couple of hours.. my house is going to smell awesometastic. I seem to have accumulated a stock pile of taters, maybe I'll make some tater salad to go with it. For now? I'm going to go enjoy the few hours of peace and quiet left before the Amazon gets off work down at the station.

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon!

Later Taters!


Wildhair said...

To prove what an ignats I am, and not accustomed to owning a car with dummy lights, I thought the oil light was just informing me it was time for a change. oops! my mechanic scolded me harshly and informed me it was BONE DRY. Of course, the owner of the place shook his head and said it wasn't bone dry, but did need attention and not to drive another 1000 miles with the light on.

Mahala said...

Oh oops indeed! I hate when they scold. It makes me feel like such a dumb girl.

BetteJo said...

HATE car stuff, hate it hate it hate it!!! I do know one thing though. Whatever car you're driving - the most important maintenance type thing you can do for it is to get the oil changed regularly.

But - that's about ALL I know. Hate it.

Frank said...

If Jolene is five or six ( I know you are way too smart to buy new) changing the oil every seven or eight thousand miles is fine as long as you aren't hauling pig iron or sum such every day.

Rachel said...

Maybe you should start a taco truck for the summers. It can't be worse than the grabngo and go and go. :) I mean, a blender full of ice and some daquiri mix and you've got happy campers.

tiff said...

Rachel is a genius.

And Naughty Mahala, for letting sweet Jolene's maintenance go to pot. She needs LUBE!