I threw a few numbers at the GG this afternoon and asked him to guess what they were. 1600, 5, 500. No modifiers of any sort, just numbers. He didn’t get them, at least not without a few Big Hints, and I didn’t expect him to but he did come up with a reasonable guess at what “5” represented. The Frog Hopper is five years old today. And this date five years ago was also a Monday. I don’t always observe vee-hickle birthdays. These days I’m lucky if I realize it’s one of the beach urchin’s birthdays. The Frog Hopper’s birthday is one I remember.

The story starts the day before, April 10, 2011. We had breakfast at Franks with The Commander and then we headed south and this is what the I75 SUV Speedway looked like that day. A lot different than yesterday’s drive. I can assure you there was no ice anywhere that day but more on that later. As usual, my memory is a wee bit faulty as apparently it was chilly in Siberia that morning but it is true that there was no ice anywhere. I also mis-remember eating breakfast at Frank’s. My internal story always has The Commander cooking breakfast for us that morning. Not.

Crossing the Big Mac mid-morning or whenever.

Here’s the temperature reading via the Ninja somewhere in the Bay area (I mean Saginaw Bay, not San Francisco Bay, of course). I think we were wishing for something like this yesterday. We didn’t get it.

And then the next day, we picked up this entity.

Alas, for whatever reason, I did not call The Comm when we got home the day we drove down. I didn’t call her five years ago today because we were busy picking up the Mean Green Frog Hoppin’ Musheen. I don’t know why I didn’t call her on Tuesday. Is because a reason? When I called her on Wednesday, she was slurring words. You know that I was back on the road to the yooperland Thursday morning. We’re pretty sure she had that “small stroke” sometime after we left on Sunday… I won’t write anything more about that now. I will say that we put 25K miles on the Frog Hopper in the next year, dealing with what turned out to be The Commander’s last year. It was a horrendous year but the Frog Hopper was (and is) a loverly workhorse.

To end on a lighter (?) note, I awoke Saturday morning to find that I had been “tagged” in some facebook photos. I tolerate being tagged in fb photos but I’m not always happy about it because uglies. (I do tag people too but I am pretty careful and/or I ask first.) The thing was that in this case, I had no clue why I was tagged. I am friends with the tagger but the photos were from a birthday party for someone I have never met and certainly did not attend, hence I wasn’t *in* the pictures. What? I could hear my beach urchins saying something like, “Moom, you can untag yourself”. After puzzling about the whole thing for a whole day, one during which I was out in the country and not getting cell service, I figured out how to untag myself. It should be easier, like how ’bout a “that’s not me” button! I also have a hunch that the tagger did not intentionally tag me. The tag was centered upon a woman who looks a *bit* like me (but doesn’t dress like me AT ALL! PINK? WHAT?). I have had fb try to “help” me tag people on various occasions and I tell it not to if I do not want to tag them. I’ll bet this person didn’t realize that was happening and just hit “post” or whatever. I *know* he knows I was not at that birthday par-ay although I applaud the fun they apparently had.

Anyway, I untagged myself (I think) but this kind of thing *is* a reason to not join facebook for people who are on the fence although it isn’t a deal-breaker for me because being on facebook can be handy in a lot of ways. [wink wink]

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