So, we were driving down from the Group Home at Houghton Lake to The Landfill on The Planet Ann Arbor. The driving conditions could have been worse. At least we could see some of the ice. Man, do I hate ice driving. At least we were in the Frog Hopper, which has some decent winter taaaarrrs. But still.

Incoming email while driving down the I75 SUV Speedway on black [or not] ice:

What is “a twist?” Clock or counter-clockwise? Is anything explosive?

The GG is a dern good driver but I hate when he tries to respond to text / email messages while driving, especially on a day like today with ice everywhere. He apparently at least agreed that texting and ice-driving at the same time wasn’t the best thing, so he told me to reply with something like, “Clockwise but wear your earplugs because it might explode.”. The adult kid and her dad (and I) thought the whole thing was pretty funny (I think — *I* don’t think things like that are very funny). But…

But it kind of reminds me of a day when I was at the Moomincabin and I was not 50 yet and my loverly old POC minivan vee-hickle was in the shop up in Soo Ste. Siberia, so I borrowed the parents’ Geo. By the time I was ready to go off on whatever jaunt I was off on, the octo-parents were long gone. But there was a note on the table. It said, “Don’t drive the Geo over 50 mph or the engine will blow up”. The entire note was written in Fran’s handwriting including Jack’s signature.

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