But California dodged the power blackouts in the East (Michigan really got the worst of it, which is ironic because they were touting "Relocate to Michigan!" after the rolling blackouts here in California.) I also only run Windows 98 (I can't get around it---the programs I use the most don't have versions for Linux), and I don't surf from home, anyway. To me, computers are really just tools for accomplishing other tasks. They aren't recreation.
So we come to Saturday. I muttered to a friend who joined me on a hike that I was late in meeting up with him, because it seemed like it was one little niggly thing after another. Little did I know it was building to the Grand Cresendo.
It started with the kitten somehow getting out and vanishing. (I now know how come the back door didn't latch when she got out--something to do with air pressure and drafts.) So we are all over the neighborhood, starting at about 9 pm, searching and calling. No sign. (She later appeared at 4 am (I left the back door open), indignant and not speaking to me, and went and hid in the closet. I think she had an exciting night.)
But here I was fretting. And we still wanted to catch a midnight show of some silent movies, up in Palo Alto. So here I am on the freeway, doing 65, and suddenly POW!, POW! and all the lights come on. We are suddenly running purely on momentum. I manage to get right and hit the next offramp. Making some very illegal turns and running a red light (no one around, and I would have been happy to see a cop, at that point), plus attempting to restart (engine does a series of explosive noises, and suddenly belches black smoke into the cab), we manage to get off the main drag and coast into the bank parking lot. I go call Chris, who comes and gets us. We get J. back to his car, and Chris takes me back to meet up with the auto club. It's midnight, and they are loading up my car to take it home and ditch it into the driveway. Chris follows me home, having also heard the kitten saga. (Remember, she's still missing, as all this is going on.) He searches for kitten as I sign the towing paperwork and the tow truck departs.
At this point, the older Siamese, Ming walks in, limping. "Why is Ming bleeding?" he asks. Looks like a bite wound on his front shoulder, very fresh. My theory is he tangled with the local possum. He gets ambitious, now and then. So Chris holds a struggling cat while I wash out his wounds with peroxide. Lots of fun at 1 am. The kitten is still missing.
Chris goes home, and I attempt to go to bed. Funny, but I can't sleep. Even a shot glass of Irish whiskey doesn't help. Funny about that. Ming showing up injured does not help my state of mind about Circe. I amuse myself by making up "Lost Kitten" posters and printing them out. (The color photos came out pretty good, in the printout. I might save those.) But then, at 4 am, Circe shows up, complaining loudly and refusing to let me touch her, before she goes to hide. I get up and close the back door and go back to bed. Finally, I get to sleep. The car is still dead, Ming still has a bite wound, but the kitten is home. Time to sleep.
Needless to say, I haven't slept well, the past couple nights.
I'm watching Ming, to make sure that wound doesn't get infected. And Circe is SO grounded, now. ;-)
But I've already started on finding the new car. I called back the sales guy in Half Moon Bay and said "You said you could find me a car more to my specifications. Okay, here's what I'm thinking..." Looks like we have a possible. Nope, not a batmobile pickup, but a Sport Trac, fairly close to what I wanted. So, we shall see... And I've started to peruse the wrecking yard listings, for disposal of the Jimmy.
But yow, what a weekend! I've had engines go up in flames, literally, but never anything quite like this!