Of Vans and Men

We're back after taking Ellen to grad school at UNC and making several stops with friends old and new on our way back home. 1540 or so miles in a rented "mini" van, all but the last four of which were good miles. When we got it home the first Sunday night and got the middle seats out, Chuck did his mathematical/topological wizzardry of getting all of E's belongings into it, even that which had been put into a pile labeled "to go if there is room." He'd try something, and if it didn't work, we'd say, "Well, we just won't take x," and he'd say, "Let me THINK." He'd THINK and in a minute, he'd taken belongings out, maneuvered what remained, replaced belongings and the extra stuff (times about 6) and there we were, packed and ready to go. (E's clothes and linens were in her car with enough space left for me....C's and my luggage were in the front seat of the van.)

Eleven and a half long and hot hours later, we arrived in steamy Chapel Hill (95 that day but by 7 beginning to cool off). Two sets of E's friends (one old, one new) and a half hour later, the van and car were empty. The next day, we used it to run around getting a bed and a dresser and a computer and all the right forms signed sealed and delivered. Whew! Still 95. It certainly seems that all the conditions (except maybe meterological) are right for E to thrive at UNC, academically and otherwise. There are many stories from the various stops in Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania as we worked our way back. (In one of them our oldest college friends may meet our youngest Wooster transplanted to VA friends at a church half way in between them, happily :):)) Suffice it to say, that we were ready to leave Jenny as she was about to partake in her first public W&J academic ceremony and head for home Sunday afternoon. We had to return the van by 7:00 (or else).

After a bit of a rest at home, we head to the rental place 25 miles north of Wooster. Since 30 miles south of Wooster, C has driven with the low fuel light on because we bought the first tank of gas at an unbelievably low price and so ought to return it with as little gas as possible. C takes this challenge seriously, but he does fill the lawn mower gas can with a gallon of gas, just in case. Just in case happens four miles south of the agency, and so when I get to the rental place, he is not there. He has called to say he has run out of gas...so why doesn't he just grumble and fill it with the gallon and keep on driving? He does the first and the second, but the van won't start. Now an hour passes as I cool my heels at the rental agency (knowing we must still pick up Julie, our IVCF staff member/dear friend, at the Cleveland airport yet that evening) and he is on the phone with a roadside service and finally a tow truck. Nothing the service tells him about restarting the car works. Grrr...if men would just not be so macho about this fumes challenge thing. Finally, I drive back to where he is stranded and suggest that he put in another gallon (after all, it is a huge tank we're talking about). It can't hurt to try, so he sends me back to a gas station to fill the lawn mower canister again. And low and behold, that's exactly what it needed--two gallons of gas, not one--so we drive it back to the agency, getting it there four minutes after they close and an hour and four mintes after it was due back (but they are expecting us) and drive on to the airport. Enough said.