I wrecked my car: Or, my car is a wreck

My parents are neat, organized people, probably to a fault. I never saw their bed unmade, which was curious, until I realized that they made their bed as they got out of it in the morning. It was an inconceivable process. In tandem my mom and dad would rise out of bed, put their feet on the floor, then each of them would turn to grab the bottom sheet, stand, and proceed to make the bed. Less than two minutes after the alarm went off, they had crossed an item off their list. My mom cooks and cleans endlessly, but her real talent is sewing. She used to make clothes for my dolls, and -- talk about attention to detail -- she once sewed evening gloves for my Barbie doll. My dad is cut from the same cloth, you could perform surgery in his garage. They are pictured left, looking rather solemn.

I have a theory. It may not be covered in Mendelian genetics, but I'm pretty sure the "clean gene" skips a generation. You'll see what I mean momentarily.

Auto Apologia

I feel bad about the state of my car interior. It's a 2000 Ford Focus hatchback, forest green. Most cars owned by horse people live hard, but my car interior has a certain post-Katrina quality. There is no excuse, but it has been an unusually busy winter. Also consider: I work two jobs (one full-time, one weekend job); I have two horses, at two different barns; I ride; I volunteer at Godfrey Daniels; and I blog. Not as punishing as the schedule of a single working mom, but not tiddly-winks either. Okay, here come the photos, for mature audiences only...

My eyes! My eyes!

I've taken a few shots, and labelled the contents, for purposes of illustration and explanation...

A. The floor of the driver's side. Where my feet, enclosed in mud-encrusted barn boots, rest while I'm driving. Hay, straw, mud, and god-knows-what are hopelessly ground in. You'll note the paper floormat from a recent car repair. It's sort of a reverse protection -- the auto techs no doubt put it there to keep their shoes clean.

B. An old horse blanket bag, containing my barn and workout clothes. Every morning I lug my gym clothes and barn clothes into work. Am I going to a laundromat or a library? Hard to tell...

C. My barn jacket. North Face down jacket, an Ebay purchase, $15 because there was/is something yucky on the collar. You can't see it in this picture, but it looks like its been dusted with cocoa powder. That's because last time I rode, the ring had not been watered. This coat lives in the car.

D. Behind the driver seat is the barn glove depository. There may, or may not, be one full/complete pair. If I can't find two matching pairs, I've been known to "go hybrid."

E. Coffee stains on driver seat. Yes, I drink and drive. The Focus cupholder is defective, and the cup flies out at inopportune times. So, I tend to hold the cup, which can be tricky while driving my manual transmission vehicle. There have been spills, but nothing that would allow me to sue someone and retire. Not shown are the traces of Nutrasweet powder that coat the emergency break and seat.

F. Fleeceworks saddle pad. Needs to be washed, but like so many too-dirty-for-indoors items, the pad is now residing in my car. I'm waiting until Bob is not home so i can run it through the washer. He objects to any sheepskin being washed at home, because a) the washer gets unbalanced and starts THUMPING and b) horse hair is distributed to other laundry loads.

G. Like Ford Prefect in Hitchhiker's Guide, I'm never without a towel, and if you look below the striped one, there are several white washcloths. When you have horses, you can always use them.

H. Equus Magnificus box. Contains about 7 bags of the Equus Magnificus horse treats (see my other blog posting). Whatever keeps Harvey happy -- I think of it as "protection money."

I. Spare sweatshirt. For when it's really cold.

J. Spare breeches. For when I forget my laundry bag.

Not shown. Audio CDs, some neatly in CD holder, others strewn about. Yes, they are out of their jewel cases.

Well, now you've seen the seedy underside of my librarian existence. A Jeckyll/Hyde sort of thing. There is no real excuse, other than a fairly on-the-move lifestyle, where my horses are the priority. I feel like I live out of my car. I can only try to squelch the guilt and wait for a sunny, warmish day to make my car look good again...