So Many Adventures
So … I renamed the blog. How long do you think it will be before Ryan notices? ;-)
I renamed the blog ’cause it felt weird to have it be named after us, even though it’s about us. But it turns out that the story about us is all about adventures anyway. So it feels like it fits. Actually, every time a new student joins my Italian class, they always end up showing up while I’m in the middle of telling the story of one of our latest mishaps. And my teacher always makes me stop for a moment while she explains to the new student how things happen to Ryan and I – repeatedly – that just don’t happen to other people.
So, in light of, and in honor of our latest mishap, I have rechristened the blog.
On Saturday night we decided to get out of the city and have dinner there – right up there in that picture.
In the late afternoon Ryan and I and a friend of ours from Rome piled into the car with Italian ices (granita) and hit the road. We got there without a problem – and although there were gale force winds along the beach, and we had dressed for sundress weather … at least the view was nice. We had aperitivo outside overlooking thatched umbrellas, sand and sea. We moved inside and had a lovely seafood dinner, and a nice cool bottle of white wine.
We had originally intended to stay to check out the beach-style night life, but, as usual, we missed a memo. Apparently we showed up for dinner almost two hours early – which would mean we’d have to hang around for two hours after dinner waiting for everyone else to finish up. So, we took that as a lesson learned, and decided to head home.
At 11:30 at night, we were merrily headed down the highway … until we heard a rhythmic thumping noise. Yeahh … We had a flat tire. And the girls were in dresses and heels. Good thing Ryan’s done this before.
Actually, for having a flat tire … the whole thing could have gone a lot worse. It turned out that we had a spare, it had air in it, we had a jack, and we even had flashlights.
We played McGyver, looking around for implements with which to break the zip ties holding the hub cap to the wheel. (zip ties? yeah…) Anne Marie and I pretty much were responsible for loading and unloading things from the car, and making sure that we didn’t lose any lug nuts. Ryan did all the heavy lifting. At the end all of our hands were black from brake dust and dirt. Anne’s dress was light yellow, mine was white & black, and ryan was wearing nice khakis, but we fished around in the car and found a bottle of water we used to wash up, and found a pair of Ryan’s black socks to wipe the dirt off on.
We loaded everything back in the car, and with the words ‘Nice pit stop, team!” We were off again.
Is it good that we dealt so smoothly with the mishap? or does it mean we’re just getting too used to them?
Here’s looking forward to more adventures!
Or maybe not? … I can’t decide. ;-)