Passports and Burban

So. Crayman has this habit of being on his own time. I’ve decided that he’s already on South African time. Because they might show up an hour late for a meeting or run a meeting 2 hours long.

I on the other hand am not.

I am on straight American time. I plan. Have lists. I organize our lives strictly. Because if I didn’t… Well…. Let’s just not picture that.

Last week Crayman realized he needed his passport and he’s leaving on a vision trip next week.


They have a special department at the government for people like my husband. They are real nice there.

He put a rush on. tick. tick. tick. tick……

Thought maybe he’d have to take a little road trip to Arkansas. Hey. That’s interesting that they put that ‘pecial little department in Arkansas.

But. Luck. It arrived today. A whole 4 days to spare.

Which leads me to Burban. You would think with this stress of finishing EVERYTHING up over the next 2 weeks and Craycray still not being finished and Crayman being gone one of those weeks, I would either be flipping out. Or in Burban bis.

Well Choose flipping. Because the Burban is not the alcoholic kind but our car.

The Burban is DEAD!

He’s been a little finicky lately. And He finally just went kapoot. Ya know.


Leaving me without a vehicular. And a gaggle of kids.

I could drive Craycray around.



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