My son mentioned briefly in a blog recently that a button phobia was a silly thing. I beg to differ. Fear of buttons is a real and serious phobia. It even has a name, koumpounophobia. There are thousands of koumpounphobiacs. Steve Jobs, Apple founder, was one. On a forum (knitting) I visit daily, one woman mentioned that she had a problem with buttons and the response was amazing. Within minutes thirty or forty people had gone on detailing their problems with buttons. I have noticed that persons suffering from button phobia are generally quite intelligent. Perhaps it is this very intelligence that makes us sufferers so much more aware of the danger posed by theses seemingly harmless, supposedly inanimate objects.
I was not always onto the devious deadly button problem. As a child my mother routinely asked me to get out her button box and find a button to replace one lost from my father's shirt. It was only over time that I became aware of the problem. It started with a shudder when I saw a loose button, then a shudder and trembling if I was required to pick it up.
My husband and children learned never to ask me to sew on a loose button. If I could force myself to try, halfway through I would have to run to the bathroom and lose my lunch. Now it is painful to walk past the button aisle at Joann stores. I cannot look or I will get sick. If a button comes off my husband's shirt in the dryer I can get it out, but it involves putting on rubber gloves, a big wad of paper towels, and holding my breath until it is out, safely in the garbage can and I have made it to the bathroom where I again lose my lunch.
It is curious that I am not in any way afraid of much anything else. I pick up snakes, never met any animal that frightened me. Thunder and lightning invigorate me. Not afraid of the dark, except when entering the house after dark and in those last five steps before you make it to the door when you are most at risk of being caught by the monsters before you can get inside.
My friends waste a good deal of energy attempting to convince me that buttons are harmless. So sad that they are going through life clueless about the dangers that surround them. The buttons also apparently have the power to make my friends, otherwise nice people, into cruel hard persons. I think almost every single person who has found out about my koumpounophobia has at one time or another said, "Hey Cathy. Hold out your hand. I have something for you." Then they drop a button in my open hand and laugh hysterically when I run for the bathroom and vomit.
Perhaps I could stop the abuse with some avoidance therapy. Next time I think I won't run for the bathroom. I'll just let her rip onto their carpeting. Maybe give them a bit of emotophobia, fear of vomit. Ha!
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Christine's return home
Yesterday I posted about Christine's fuel problem . I was a bit apprehensive about how she would behave at the garage. I shouldn't have worried. The woman at the desk smiled as I came in and said cheerfully that my car had behaved perfectly, no flashing lights, no locking and unlocking, no alarms. She was all fixed and ready to go.
I was so relieved. The bill was paid, they handed over my keys and I went to my car. I stopped for a moment behind the car and looked over the rather deep scratch on her back bumper that happened as we were being pushed. "It's not so bad", I told the car. "We can get this fixed and a scratch is sure better than a $100 tow charge."
Smiling, I got in my car. I put the keys in the ignition, adjusted seat and put on my seat belt, but before I touched the key to start the car, the doors locked and unlocked loudly and the car alarm went off. Panicked I pulled the key and kept pressing the remote to turn off the alarm, but it didn't work. Finally after I was sure my ears would burst the alarm went abruptly silent.I looked over at my son, who had driven me to the garage. He rolled down his car window and smiled at me. "I don't think Christine is too pleased with your casual attitude towards her scratch. Better promise to get it fixed pronto."
I promise, Christine. We'll fix that scratch. I keep reminding myself that 42 mpg is worth it.
I hope.
I was so relieved. The bill was paid, they handed over my keys and I went to my car. I stopped for a moment behind the car and looked over the rather deep scratch on her back bumper that happened as we were being pushed. "It's not so bad", I told the car. "We can get this fixed and a scratch is sure better than a $100 tow charge."
Smiling, I got in my car. I put the keys in the ignition, adjusted seat and put on my seat belt, but before I touched the key to start the car, the doors locked and unlocked loudly and the car alarm went off. Panicked I pulled the key and kept pressing the remote to turn off the alarm, but it didn't work. Finally after I was sure my ears would burst the alarm went abruptly silent.I looked over at my son, who had driven me to the garage. He rolled down his car window and smiled at me. "I don't think Christine is too pleased with your casual attitude towards her scratch. Better promise to get it fixed pronto."
I promise, Christine. We'll fix that scratch. I keep reminding myself that 42 mpg is worth it.
I hope.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Advantages of a Haunted Car
There are some advantages to having a haunted car.
Yesterday I had a bit of trouble starting Christine as I left karate. I wasn't too concerned but on the way home as I was going up a very steep hill, the car suddenly stalled. Not panicking I pushed in the clutch and tried to restart. Electrical seemed fine but clearly no fuel was getting through. The car began to slow and I realized it was going to stop in a bad place. On coming cars would not be able to see me stalled in the road the other side of the crest of the hill but the cars coming up behind me would not be able to see over the crest to the on coming cars if they tried to pass me. I moaned out loud, "Oh no, Christine. We're going to get hit if we stop here." Ever so slightly I felt her pick up a bit of speed (going up hill!) and she continued to roll till we crested the hill and moved away from the danger spot until we were visible to both lanes of traffic. I pulled off as far as I could as we came to a stop and thanked Christine for getting us up that hill.
I called Ron and he suggested calling a tow truck but I didn't have enough money to do that, so Ron said he would come. It turns out there was a garage specializing in import cars just 200 yards from where we stopped. Ron stopped behind me and a moment later a state trooper pulled up behind us. Ron told him that he was going to try to push my car with his and the trooper put on his lights to escort us safely to the garage. Made it! The trooper laughed at us before he left saying it was a pretty good way to save a $100 tow bill.
At the garage I left Christine, but I warned the woman at the desk that Christine was a haunted car. She might lock and unlock her doors at will and there was only the one key. I also warned of moving mirrors. Without missing a beat the woman assured me that it would be no problem. They had dealt with possessed cars before. At least I know Christine is in good hands!
They have examined her and found the cause of the problem (the original 13 year old fuel filter!!! and burnt out glow plugs.) I am waiting for the call that she is fixed. I hope she will be pleased when she gets home. I'll let you know what happens.
Yesterday I had a bit of trouble starting Christine as I left karate. I wasn't too concerned but on the way home as I was going up a very steep hill, the car suddenly stalled. Not panicking I pushed in the clutch and tried to restart. Electrical seemed fine but clearly no fuel was getting through. The car began to slow and I realized it was going to stop in a bad place. On coming cars would not be able to see me stalled in the road the other side of the crest of the hill but the cars coming up behind me would not be able to see over the crest to the on coming cars if they tried to pass me. I moaned out loud, "Oh no, Christine. We're going to get hit if we stop here." Ever so slightly I felt her pick up a bit of speed (going up hill!) and she continued to roll till we crested the hill and moved away from the danger spot until we were visible to both lanes of traffic. I pulled off as far as I could as we came to a stop and thanked Christine for getting us up that hill.
I called Ron and he suggested calling a tow truck but I didn't have enough money to do that, so Ron said he would come. It turns out there was a garage specializing in import cars just 200 yards from where we stopped. Ron stopped behind me and a moment later a state trooper pulled up behind us. Ron told him that he was going to try to push my car with his and the trooper put on his lights to escort us safely to the garage. Made it! The trooper laughed at us before he left saying it was a pretty good way to save a $100 tow bill.
At the garage I left Christine, but I warned the woman at the desk that Christine was a haunted car. She might lock and unlock her doors at will and there was only the one key. I also warned of moving mirrors. Without missing a beat the woman assured me that it would be no problem. They had dealt with possessed cars before. At least I know Christine is in good hands!
They have examined her and found the cause of the problem (the original 13 year old fuel filter!!! and burnt out glow plugs.) I am waiting for the call that she is fixed. I hope she will be pleased when she gets home. I'll let you know what happens.
Friday, January 17, 2014
More on Christine
I have posted a story on my haunted car, Christine. My husband read it and just shook his head. He has even ordered a new locking system for the door. He claims this will solve the problems and I will stop saying my car is haunted. I'm not so sure.
Example. I drove Christine on Monday. All was normal, no sudden unexplained locking, no alarms going off. Came home and parked . The next morning I went out and got in the car to go to karate and............The rear view mirror was now turned toward the house and a pair of gloves were now on the passenger seat! I would have thought that my son or husband was playing a trick on me, but there were no footprints in the snow by my car except the ones I made getting out the night before.
Next. I always put my keys in an exterior pocket of my purse. I am compulsive about it because I only have one ignition key and haven't had the time or money to go to Volkswagen to get another set. I have never put the key any other place except in a pocket if I am not carrying my purse. I always put the keys in the outside pocket of my purse before I get out of the car so I won't drop them. Wednesday I went out and got in the car to go to choir practice. Opened the zippered pocket and went for my keys. They weren't there. Panicked, I dumped my purse out. Nothing. I went in the house and checked the pockets of the jacket I had worn last and through the pockets of the jeans from the day before. I went back out to the car and checked the floor and under the seats. I tried to think about the previous day. Had I done something different? I remembered that I had decided to check the mail before I went in the house. I remembered leaving my purse on the seat, with the door open so it couldn't accidentally lock me out when I went down the driveway to the mailbox. Just scooped up my purse and coffee cup when I came back and shut the door and went to the house.
Eventually I found the keys. I had again dumped my purse out and was shaking it when I noticed a tiny bulge in an interior zippered pocket. Opened that and found my keys. Ok, I can hear you thinking I must have put them in the wrong pocket, except I don't use that pocket because it is really hard to unzip. The purse lining is not attached inside well and it is really hard to unzip that pocket. I have to set the purse down and hold and pull on the fabric to get the zipper to move at all. I couldn't have done that accidentally. It takes effort to do. I never use that pocket but,.........my purse was alone in Christine when I went to the mail box.
Have to leave for karate now. I'm a little afraid of what I might find.
I am beginning to believe my own story about a "haunted " car. Yikes!
Example. I drove Christine on Monday. All was normal, no sudden unexplained locking, no alarms going off. Came home and parked . The next morning I went out and got in the car to go to karate and............The rear view mirror was now turned toward the house and a pair of gloves were now on the passenger seat! I would have thought that my son or husband was playing a trick on me, but there were no footprints in the snow by my car except the ones I made getting out the night before.
Next. I always put my keys in an exterior pocket of my purse. I am compulsive about it because I only have one ignition key and haven't had the time or money to go to Volkswagen to get another set. I have never put the key any other place except in a pocket if I am not carrying my purse. I always put the keys in the outside pocket of my purse before I get out of the car so I won't drop them. Wednesday I went out and got in the car to go to choir practice. Opened the zippered pocket and went for my keys. They weren't there. Panicked, I dumped my purse out. Nothing. I went in the house and checked the pockets of the jacket I had worn last and through the pockets of the jeans from the day before. I went back out to the car and checked the floor and under the seats. I tried to think about the previous day. Had I done something different? I remembered that I had decided to check the mail before I went in the house. I remembered leaving my purse on the seat, with the door open so it couldn't accidentally lock me out when I went down the driveway to the mailbox. Just scooped up my purse and coffee cup when I came back and shut the door and went to the house.
Eventually I found the keys. I had again dumped my purse out and was shaking it when I noticed a tiny bulge in an interior zippered pocket. Opened that and found my keys. Ok, I can hear you thinking I must have put them in the wrong pocket, except I don't use that pocket because it is really hard to unzip. The purse lining is not attached inside well and it is really hard to unzip that pocket. I have to set the purse down and hold and pull on the fabric to get the zipper to move at all. I couldn't have done that accidentally. It takes effort to do. I never use that pocket but,.........my purse was alone in Christine when I went to the mail box.
Have to leave for karate now. I'm a little afraid of what I might find.
I am beginning to believe my own story about a "haunted " car. Yikes!
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Rebuttal to Brian's Car Wash Story
It has come to my attention that my son is planning on relating an incident that occurred while taking my car through the car wash. Should any of you follow his blog, The Dreamer's Door, (and you really should. He's very interesting) please be aware that his version of the event does not agree with mine.
The facts are quite simple.I had opened my door while paying for the wash because I couldn't quite reach the machine to swipe my card. I failed to close it all the way and when the car wash started some water came into my car. Here is where we differ on the following events. Brian claims I began to use a certain word and kept it up for the entire wash and all the way home plus a while longer after we got back. Certainly anyone who has ever met me could never even begin to imagine that a sweet, kind, gentle, patient person like myself could use that superfluous vulgarity at all, much less for twenty whole minutes.
I believe that when the water began to get in the car I said something like "Oh dear me. I am getting wet"
My son replied with something like "Well shut the door you crazy old woman!!!"
Not all that much water got in. My phone didn't even get wet because my purse floated to the back seat and my dash really did need a good cleaning. I did get the door properly shut and we simply finished the wash and headed home. My son would never tell a lie but he certainly remembers the event incorrectly. I think I can explain his confusion. First he had a bit of soap in his ears, (though I had a more.) Secondly he was laughing at his poor old mother a bit too much. In fact I remember thinking that I would,er, I mean he could hurt himself if he didn't stop laughing so hard. I have even figured out why he mistakenly thought I might have said a certain bad word. I put on my window wipers and they were making a sound kind of like "fwuck, fwuck, fwuck" as they went back and forth. Through his cruel laughter he must have misheard that sound and shockingly thought that I was making such a noise.
So there it is, all easily explained.
PS, And I only had those wipers going not a second over fifteen minutes.
The facts are quite simple.I had opened my door while paying for the wash because I couldn't quite reach the machine to swipe my card. I failed to close it all the way and when the car wash started some water came into my car. Here is where we differ on the following events. Brian claims I began to use a certain word and kept it up for the entire wash and all the way home plus a while longer after we got back. Certainly anyone who has ever met me could never even begin to imagine that a sweet, kind, gentle, patient person like myself could use that superfluous vulgarity at all, much less for twenty whole minutes.
I believe that when the water began to get in the car I said something like "Oh dear me. I am getting wet"
My son replied with something like "Well shut the door you crazy old woman!!!"
Not all that much water got in. My phone didn't even get wet because my purse floated to the back seat and my dash really did need a good cleaning. I did get the door properly shut and we simply finished the wash and headed home. My son would never tell a lie but he certainly remembers the event incorrectly. I think I can explain his confusion. First he had a bit of soap in his ears, (though I had a more.) Secondly he was laughing at his poor old mother a bit too much. In fact I remember thinking that I would,er, I mean he could hurt himself if he didn't stop laughing so hard. I have even figured out why he mistakenly thought I might have said a certain bad word. I put on my window wipers and they were making a sound kind of like "fwuck, fwuck, fwuck" as they went back and forth. Through his cruel laughter he must have misheard that sound and shockingly thought that I was making such a noise.
So there it is, all easily explained.
PS, And I only had those wipers going not a second over fifteen minutes.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Jack the Wonder dog
Jack is a wonder dog along the lines of I wonder why I have him. I wonder if he will ever grow up. I wonder if he will ever stop using the little dogs as chew toys. (Alas, all my bichons now have hairless ears and tails.)
I wonder if he will ever stop making surprise lunges while he is on the leash.
I also wonder if he will ever meet a person he doesn't like. I wonder why he is so happy all the time. (Whoo hoo!!! I'm going out side!! Whoohoo, I'm coming inside.) I wonder if he will ever stop greeting me when I leave the room for ten seconds just as excitedly as when I've been gone all day.
I wonder what goes through his head..
A few weeks ago Jack spent almost three days studying me. He would sit and stare at me while I watched TV, or read a book. He watched while I talked on the phone. He watched me when Ron or Brian came home. On the third day I had had enough. "What are you looking at, you crazy dog?"
Slowly and deliberately while gazing at my face he lifted his lips in a perfect smile, his tail wagging like crazy.
Apparently he was studying me to learn how to smile. After that first try he now smiles alot! He smiles when he wants a treat, when I come home, when I say his name.
The first time he smiled at Brian he gave a huge goofy grin showing all his impressive white teeth. Brian had a brief second of wondering if he was about to get eaten, but soon realized what was going on. Now Jack not only smiles at us, he has also taught Ron's dog Pepper to smile and they sometimes smile at each other.
Now I wonder, how did we manage to get along without Jack the Wonder dog.
I wonder if he will ever stop making surprise lunges while he is on the leash.
I also wonder if he will ever meet a person he doesn't like. I wonder why he is so happy all the time. (Whoo hoo!!! I'm going out side!! Whoohoo, I'm coming inside.) I wonder if he will ever stop greeting me when I leave the room for ten seconds just as excitedly as when I've been gone all day.
I wonder what goes through his head..
A few weeks ago Jack spent almost three days studying me. He would sit and stare at me while I watched TV, or read a book. He watched while I talked on the phone. He watched me when Ron or Brian came home. On the third day I had had enough. "What are you looking at, you crazy dog?"
Slowly and deliberately while gazing at my face he lifted his lips in a perfect smile, his tail wagging like crazy.
Apparently he was studying me to learn how to smile. After that first try he now smiles alot! He smiles when he wants a treat, when I come home, when I say his name.
The first time he smiled at Brian he gave a huge goofy grin showing all his impressive white teeth. Brian had a brief second of wondering if he was about to get eaten, but soon realized what was going on. Now Jack not only smiles at us, he has also taught Ron's dog Pepper to smile and they sometimes smile at each other.
Now I wonder, how did we manage to get along without Jack the Wonder dog.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Christine
I have a haunted car.
A couple of months ago I decided to do something about the terrible mileage I was getting on my car. The car was perfectly fine, but was only getting 22 or 23 miles per gallon. It's a fifty six mile round trip to church and I have to make the trip at least three times a week so I was spending quite a bit on gas when you add in all my other driving. There is a reason for the saying poor as a church mouse. Spending so much on gas was eating up our budget. Some months anything beyond Ramen noodles seemed like a luxury!
I was at the used car lot with my son who was actually shopping for a car, his old Ranger having finally rusted out beyond any hope of repair, when out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of silver. I wandered down the lot curiously when I came to the source of the flash, a VW Beetle tucked between two big SUVs.
She was a beautiful silver with a saucy racing stripe running up her hood and over the car. I like cars with nice "faces" and her's was sweet. She seemed to be smiling at me. As I admired her the lot owner came up and "innocently" asked me if I would like to try her out. "Oooooowhahaha, she's a wonderful car," he said, as he slipped the key into my hand. "You'll love her, ooooooowhhahaha"
So, unaware that my life was about to change I took her for a test drive. She was wonderful, peppy and responsive, the manual transmission so much fun. She had heated seats and a beautiful leather interior. We drove around a while and I began to think I needed this car.
On my return to the lot the lot owner approached with a smile. "Isn't she great? She gets great mileage too. The former owner said he got over 40 per gallon and in the summer it got up to 50 a gallon. Can't beat theses diesel engines."
"Why did he get rid of her if he liked her so much?"
"Oh he just mummble, mummble erhem mummble."
"What?"
"Cone on, let's get the paperwork going"
So, a few minutes later I had a car!
As I pulled out of the lot in my new car, the doors suddenly locked with a loud ominous thunk. I should have turned back then, but I was in love.
At home I had two days of bliss then I went to start her on the third day and the check engine light was on. I called the car lot. "It's just the glow plug sensor. Don't worry about it. We'll put a new one in next time you come out here."
That didn't sound too bad, but as I hung up the phone in the house I heard a horn beep in the driveway and the loud thunk of car doors locking. My nightmare was beginning. The car began to lock and unlock at will while driving, at night, at odd times during the day. The interior lights went on and off. No light when I got in and out at night , but working fine in the daytime.
I complained to my son . He laughed and said, "You should call her Christine, after that haunted movie car"
Out in the driveway, "Christine" beeped her horn and locked and unlocked her doors. My son said, "See? She likes that name."
She does like that name. I entered the car after a hair cut. I was sitting texting my husband to let him know I would be home soon. Christine suddenly locked the doors and set off the car alarm.
Approaching her in the parking lot I saw an elderly woman passing by and as she did Christine locked the doors and blew her horn. The poor woman dropped her bags and clutched her chest.
Even after a new glow plug sensor, the check engine light goes on and off, staring at me when I'm driving.
I am not sure what the future holds. I try to treat her nicely, giving her car washes and filling her with her favorite diesel fuel and i got her new wiper blades, but I'm not sure how long this tentative peace will last. Even as I write this, I can hear her lock going on and off in the driveway.
My husband says, "You are aware that it is just a short in the door locking mechanism aren't you?"
So he says, but he hasn't seen the dash light winking at me or heard her sinister chuckle when the doors snap locked. Where this will end????? I just don't know.
A couple of months ago I decided to do something about the terrible mileage I was getting on my car. The car was perfectly fine, but was only getting 22 or 23 miles per gallon. It's a fifty six mile round trip to church and I have to make the trip at least three times a week so I was spending quite a bit on gas when you add in all my other driving. There is a reason for the saying poor as a church mouse. Spending so much on gas was eating up our budget. Some months anything beyond Ramen noodles seemed like a luxury!
I was at the used car lot with my son who was actually shopping for a car, his old Ranger having finally rusted out beyond any hope of repair, when out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of silver. I wandered down the lot curiously when I came to the source of the flash, a VW Beetle tucked between two big SUVs.
She was a beautiful silver with a saucy racing stripe running up her hood and over the car. I like cars with nice "faces" and her's was sweet. She seemed to be smiling at me. As I admired her the lot owner came up and "innocently" asked me if I would like to try her out. "Oooooowhahaha, she's a wonderful car," he said, as he slipped the key into my hand. "You'll love her, ooooooowhhahaha"
So, unaware that my life was about to change I took her for a test drive. She was wonderful, peppy and responsive, the manual transmission so much fun. She had heated seats and a beautiful leather interior. We drove around a while and I began to think I needed this car.
On my return to the lot the lot owner approached with a smile. "Isn't she great? She gets great mileage too. The former owner said he got over 40 per gallon and in the summer it got up to 50 a gallon. Can't beat theses diesel engines."
"Why did he get rid of her if he liked her so much?"
"Oh he just mummble, mummble erhem mummble."
"What?"
"Cone on, let's get the paperwork going"
So, a few minutes later I had a car!
As I pulled out of the lot in my new car, the doors suddenly locked with a loud ominous thunk. I should have turned back then, but I was in love.
At home I had two days of bliss then I went to start her on the third day and the check engine light was on. I called the car lot. "It's just the glow plug sensor. Don't worry about it. We'll put a new one in next time you come out here."
That didn't sound too bad, but as I hung up the phone in the house I heard a horn beep in the driveway and the loud thunk of car doors locking. My nightmare was beginning. The car began to lock and unlock at will while driving, at night, at odd times during the day. The interior lights went on and off. No light when I got in and out at night , but working fine in the daytime.
I complained to my son . He laughed and said, "You should call her Christine, after that haunted movie car"
Out in the driveway, "Christine" beeped her horn and locked and unlocked her doors. My son said, "See? She likes that name."
She does like that name. I entered the car after a hair cut. I was sitting texting my husband to let him know I would be home soon. Christine suddenly locked the doors and set off the car alarm.
Approaching her in the parking lot I saw an elderly woman passing by and as she did Christine locked the doors and blew her horn. The poor woman dropped her bags and clutched her chest.
Even after a new glow plug sensor, the check engine light goes on and off, staring at me when I'm driving.
I am not sure what the future holds. I try to treat her nicely, giving her car washes and filling her with her favorite diesel fuel and i got her new wiper blades, but I'm not sure how long this tentative peace will last. Even as I write this, I can hear her lock going on and off in the driveway.
My husband says, "You are aware that it is just a short in the door locking mechanism aren't you?"
So he says, but he hasn't seen the dash light winking at me or heard her sinister chuckle when the doors snap locked. Where this will end????? I just don't know.
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