Car wars

The other day as we crossed the swollen Mississippi River, I wondered how long it takes a drop of water from our creek to make it down to the Gulf of Mexico. I'll bet they have a jolly old time floating along without a care in the world: they carry no luggage, have no need to fuel up, and I'll bet they never even think about car repairs.

I, on the other hand, spend way too much time thinking about car repairs and waiting for car repairs and paying for car repairs. At first it looked as if we would have to perform some sort of car repair in every state we visited after our son's commencement, but we broke our streak after Mississippi, leaving the total thus: car repairs in three states, no car repairs in six. And we still made it home in one piece--but in two cars, which complicated matters. Three drivers, two cars, three repairs, one unexpected overnight stay at a cheap motel (you try finding a mechanic late on Mothers Day in Vicksburg, Mississippi!).

On the plus side, I got to spend some extra quality time with my son. In Louisiana we replaced the spark plugs in his car while parked next to an air show. We were hot and sweaty and greasy and tired but the jets doing loops and swirls and tight formations right overhead provided serious entertainment.

And then in Mississippi while we awaited repairs on my car, we toured the Vicksburg battlefield and saw what remains of the U.S.S. Cairo, a Civil War ironclad that was sunk in 1863 and sat in mud for 100 years before being lifted from the river and partially restored. It looks like a ship a child would make with Legos, more like a mechanical insect than a seaworthy vessel. It was pleasant to walk among the war memorials and cannons in the cool of the morning.

In the heat of the day we turned our backs on the mighty Mississippi and drove and drove and drove, finally arriving home early this morning. I've never been so happy to see our creek. It may not be flooding cities or making headlines, but its waters daily retrace the treacherous trip we just finished without muttering a single complaint. Oh, to be a drop of water!

But first I'd like to drop off to sleep.