Last Christmas Husband bought me a book entitled 1,000 Places to See in the USA and Canada Before You Die. My goal is to visit as many places as possible. Living in New England for 5 years made it possible for me to see a lot of places listed in the book. In fact, there are only two places in the book that I definitely want to go to before we leave the Eastern United States: The Baseball Hall of Fame and the Corning Museum of Glass. Because the Hall of Fame is on the way to Boston, we have decided to hit it up on one of our trips down there. The Glass Museum is a bit out of the way, but I am determined to check it off. We planned to drive there a few weeks ago, however our corner of Northern New York was hit with a snow storm, so we stayed home. Then last week, we planned to go again, but this time, the area the Museum is in was hit with a snow storm,so we stayed home once again. Friday, we were determined to go. We got up early, checked the weather and discovered that we would have to drive through not one, but two, bands of severe snow. I was disappointed, but undeterred: "We'll go on Saturday," I said. Saturday morning dawned sunny, beautiful and bitterly cold. But no snow! A quick check of the weather showed some small pockets of light snow along our route, but nothing to be concerned about. Nevertheless, we packed the car with sleeping bags, a shovel, and winter boots just in case the satellite map was wrong. I was extremely excited. After weeks of waiting and planning and cancelling, we were finally going to the Glass Museum! Just as Husband released the parking brake and put the car in gear, we heard this popping sound. Not too concerned we started out of the driveway, only to discover that our brakes didn't work! Husband had to press the pedal all the way to the floor to get them to engage. Me, being the brilliant one that I am, said "Maybe they are really cold." My dear husband gave me a look that only a husband can give: Wives, you know the look, the one that says "Oh you little dear. Thank you for trying to help, but you definitely know nothing about this, so just sit there and look pretty." We drove a couple of blocks before realizing that the brakes were not working at all. In fact, when Husband pressed on the the brakes, they would make a whooshing sound. A phone call to AAA, a 30 minute wait and one tow truck ride later, we were at the mechanics. Thanks to the generosity of great friends, we got a ride back to our apartment and waited for the call from the mechanic. Diagnosis? The brake power booster is shot. Unfortunately, because it is Saturday, they aren't able to get the part until Monday. So, since we are for the time being, a one car family,we are now a no car family at least until Monday. Not a real big deal. Just a minor inconvenience. We are grateful that we have a car and that it is a quick and easy repair.
I want to point out how happy I am that Husband was the one in driver's seat when this all happened, because goodness knows I would have never heard the end of it. Since Husband was the driver, objective reality clearly indicates that it was not Husband's fault the car broke. However, if I had been the driver, it most certainly would have been blamed on me, because after all I am a woman and all men know that women can't drive! I am sure that I would have had to tell my husband, in painstaking detail precisely what I had done from the time I got up that morning to the exact second I broke the car. But because Husband was the driver clearly no one is at fault, except perhaps the car manufacturer; the parts manufacturer; the car company owner; the guy who changes our oil; our mechanic, his wife, daughter and dog; the cold weather, Barack Obama; and of course, me because I drove it on Tuesday.