That I actually took this arguably dull shot and that I am now in Nantucket is a minor miracle. Today was truly a comedy of errors.
After getting organized and packed yesterday, I got up early, walked the dog, and got ready for the 4 hour car trip and 2 hour ferry ride to this lovely island. My daughter and I were ready to go at the appointed hour (my husband can’t join us until Tuesday), I had tranquilized the dog–who hates the car–and packed the goldfish (madness). We got in the car, and, lo and behold, the battery was COMPLETELY dead. No big deal, I’m thinking at that point–I know how to jump a car (I’m from Minnesota after all; car batteries die all the time in that frigid climate). However, last night after packing the car I had pulled it ALL the way into the garage because of the bikes loaded on the back of it, nudging the hood of the car right up to the tool bench. So close in fact, that when we tried to pop the hood to jump the battery the hood wouldn’t open, no way, no how. Short of taking an ax to the tool bench, there was no way that hood would open. OK then, so we’ll put the car in neutral and roll it a few feet–still no big deal.
Wrong. This car has been built by German engineers, and when you have no battery you cannot put the car in neutral. So, I call BMW assist (panic is now starting to set in–I have a ferry to catch, for which tickets must be purchased months in advance) and their slow-talking “technician” tells me to get the “red tool” out of the trunk and starts giving me detailed instructions how to use this “red tool” to put the car in neutral. However, said “red tool” is buried beneath a month’s worth of luggage and provisions, and because the battery is dead the key won’t open the back hatch. Now it’s major panic. We unpack the car via the passenger doors–which I have thankfully left open–locate the “red tool,” insert said “red tool” in a slot that proved nearly impossible to locate, put the car in neutral, jump the battery, repack all our stuff and off we go…an hour and a half after we planned. Thinking we still had a fair chance of catching our ferry (I’m a bit of a lead foot, if necessary, and I thought I had left plenty of time), we hit epic 1-95 traffic which made catching our ferry only possible if I drove 120 miles an hour for the remainder of the trip.
I must have had a little karma on my side, however, as there was standby space on the next ferry and here we are. So this photo may be arguably dull, but it’s beautiful to me.
