Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Peg pilots the mighty F-250

I've had meetings in Midtown this week, 17 miles away, so I've been taking the Prius. Peg's been the captain of my giant truck (F-250 crew cab, extended bed. Basically the biggest frickin' thing you can buy from Ford unless you get a "duelie" with four rear tires).

She can even back the beast into the driveway in one pass without nuking the mailbox. Yay!

The truck's name is Meatloaf. My previous truck, an F-150 was Beefer. All my vehicles (and there have been perhaps 15-20 of them) have been boys. Don't know why, and can barely remember their names: Animal, Willard, FunFunFun ('55 T-bird), LaBamba ('60 Chevy convertible), Dweezil, Buffalo, Astro, Rocket, Ödvar, Bosco...

Making plans for a short getaway to San Francisco next week while Zoë's off school for the first Spring Break. Yes, they have two of them, just a few weeks apart. I don't know why. We'll stay in Corte Madera, just north of The City, and take the ferry across. One day via ferry and buses, one day with our own wheels. This is our first big family trip out since Peg was diagnosed, seven months ago Friday.

She's quite the furry thing. Would be quite a hoot to take her portrait every day from the same angle and edit all the photos together in sequence. My wife, the chia pet. Judging by her hair's thickness and coloration, fun/wacky hair days await. She's at the cusp of just being out there in the world sans wig or cap... she looks good. Slap on a pair of big earrings and voila', she could be mistaken for a New York magazine fashion editor.