Hello there, friendos.
Verily, it's been too long. I hope y'all're well, as much as one can be in these times.
I've got another little driving log for ya on this Saturday (hell, it'll probably be Sunday by the time I'm done writing). Won't be as in-depth with the play-by-play as I've done before; I like it, but that's a hassle, & I'm tired, & I do not have the mental capacity for that right now. You'll simply have to settle with the abridged version.
On Friday afternoons, myself & my brother & our friends hang-out & drink & play video-games & board-games & DoorDash junk food & eat candy. This is after I get home from volunteering at the bird rehab clinic in Freedom, ME, called Avian Haven. I usually leave there later than I should, because I get there later than I should, because time is a force I struggle maintaining a strong relationship with.
This particular yesterday, I slept in much later than intended, & didn't even get to AH until 2:40 PM-ish. In the winter, there is much less cleaning for me to do than during the busy warm months when there are many chicks & songbirds, so I can at-least make the excuse in my head that I'm not leaving things a shit-show, which is technically true.
For my second time, I was tasked with releasing a bird which was ready to go (an eager acceptance), so to get where it had to be before it was fully dark out, I ended up leaving just an hour later around 3:45.
I got there & did the release roundabout 5:00. I sped home, because I've seldom had to pee more than I did at that time (it's a long drive).
The standard hangout time is roughly 6:00. I am often the last arrival, for reasons previously addressed. I just don't know where the time goes... Even when I get home earlier than other times, like this time, well, I use the bathroom & I shower, and these things take me time to relax & recharge. I feel like Betty & Barney Hill during their purported alien-abduction: all of a sudden, hours have passed, & I usually get to the apartment ~ 7:30-8:00.
I'm not proud of this trait, & it's never anything personal. Sadly, it's the same with basically anything at all, & it's an expectation that sometimes goes into planning with the time I'm told to arrive to things. Listen, I'm working on it...
The point is, even having left earlier than usual, I still got there later. But, we did our usual games, & I sucked down a margarita & a fruit-punch Truly, & it was a right jolly time. We didn't leave until 1:30 AM, so needless to say, I was tired this morning.
Often (usually, honestly), I spend my weekends sleeping the whole godforsaken day away, rotting in bed un-showered & un-teethbrushed & all around just plain nasty. But, I'm trying to be less of a pitiable prick, & I had a specific errand to run today, which at-least usually helps get me up before, say, 3:00 PM.
I have a car. Carson: 2006 Honda CRV. I love this car; I've had it since January 5th, 2021. Good car. Strong car. Old car. Dying car. S'got one tire in the grave, I'm afraid. It's been my kingly chariot o'er these many years, but the time is nigh for new wheels.
Until that sad time comes, I must provide hospice-care, as I'm happy to do. So, I'm in-tune with what it needs, & there is a particular symptom I recognize when Carson needs an oil-change.
Let's go back in time a bit, here, to the first time this occurred. It was late 2023-early 2024. It was Winter, or nearly so. On my Dashboard, two lights came on. One was a triangle with an exclamation-mark inside it. How relieving! The accompaniment was the words "VSA OFF".
I didn't know at the time, but VSA stands for Virtual Steering Assistant. It's a feature my car possesses which helps realign the steering & keep you in the right lane and whatnot. In the wild, I usually notice this when I'm turning onto a road when it's recently snowed & I slide a bit. That triangle blinks on, & I feel the car straighten itself out.
Anyhow, I'm getting a little off-track here (unlike my car in slick conditions, thanks to VSA hahahahh). So, the first time it happened coincided with my car overheating for the first time I'd experienced. It started jolting all crazy-like, but I managed to get it to my friend's house, which is when I noticed the engine was steaming. The wiper-fluid was literally boiling to bubbles in its little chamber, so that was fun.
This is where I get a little hazy in my recollection. If memory serves me right, Carson was towed to the mechanic's. I don't remember what the specific problem was which was taken care of then, but all seemed well enough.
But, it happened again. This time, the car didn't overheat, so besides the annoying codes, nothing seemed awry at first. I realized they would go away when I turned the car off & on again. So this went on for some time with me ignoring it, until things took a turn. Now, when the lights appeared, the car began to vibrate.
It started out subtly, barely detectable. When I'd park, the needle on the gear-gauge would move up & down, & the engine would rev on its own. Yet even so, I ignored it. Nothing was in any way disruptive to the driving.
Until it was. The next progression was the jolting. By now, the code-lights were near-constant. Exponentially increasing in severity, my car would jolt every time I stopped at a red-light, or even slowed down on the road. When I put my foot on the gas again, it would shake & jolt in little spurts, like I was brake-checking, which SUCKS, because I do not want people to think that's what's happening.
And somehow, it got worse. This progressed to my engine COMPLETELY SHUTTING ITSELF OFF AT EVERY RED-LIGHT. I'd have to quickly shut my car off & on again before the light changed, then it would go on jolting across the intersection. I came to dread red-lights like I've seldom dreaded anything before. It was unsafe, & it SUCKED.
And then I got an oil-change. And then it was done. No more amber lights. No more jolting. No more engine-fainting. All gone.
And so it has been since then that these sxs will start to occur, then I'll get the oil changed, & it's gone until the next time, rinse & repeat. You'd best believe it hasn't gotten anywhere near as bad as that first time ever again, but what it has gotten is more frequent. As of today's change, whereas the code-lights & only very few sporadic instances of slight jolting have recently returned, it's slightly over a month early based on the sticker. The mileage is ahead, too, but I don't look at that.
All this has been to say, the oil-change was the errand I had to run today. So I cleaned-up & got a coffee & hash-browns at Dunkin'. Then, I went & parked at the mill downtown to look for the resident peregrine falcons at the Franco Center. No luck. Onward I went to the oil-change at Prompto on Lisbon St. After this, I went down the road to D'Angelo's, where I got a bowl of their phenomenal broccoli-&-cheddar soup & a grilled-chicken Caesar salad.
I'd asked for extra oyster-crackers, so I dumped three packages into the bowl after I ate the large pieces of broccoli to make some room. Then, I took some of the parmesan & chicken from the salad, which I broke into bits & added to the soup. Delish!. I sat alone in a booth, watching the cars go by & reading from the fourth edition of a great zine called "Hwæt!" (the famous first word of "Beowulf").
I ate a bit before realizing it was almost sunset (~ 4:45 PM), so I packed the rest away & went back to the mill to look for the falcons once more, although still to no avail.
I found myself in a driving mood, & I wanted to drive when I could before the snowstorm which has started as I write this at 11:47 PM. I found myself on Route 202, then up Court St. on Goff Hill, then the usual loop around the airport in Auburn. But, here was a new variation.
At the side flank of the airport, I usually go right onto Lewiston Junction Road & back along Hotel Rd. from whence I came, & back across Minot Ave. onto Court St. & either off around the lake, or back home. But this evening, I went left, just for shits & giggles. I went along a while until taking a right onto Empire Road, from there a shockingly long while until back right onto Minot Ave. & onto familiar territory.
The rest from here was variations of my classic routes (for the most part). I went up Hatch Road, then down past Wallingford's Fruit House, then around Lake Auburn as has recently been a favorite of mine. I considered taking the ramp up off Center St. to go to Walmart for a new toothbrush, cuz mine's been scraping the shit outta my gums. But, I figured I can just get it next time I get groceries, & I really had to pee, so I went home & went about my business, then got back on the road.
I got some gas at Cumberland Farms & squeegeed my grimy rear-windshield (the guy at Prompto had done the front already). I love those squeegees; I use them almost every time I'm at a petrol-station & I get irrationally upset when the basin is empty. Carson accumulates a lot of dirt on the backroads to Avian Haven.
From there, I proceeded to a less-common extension of my routes. I went left off Rte. 202 onto my beloved Meadow Hill Rd. just before the Gowell's shop in Greene (used to be an IGA). This is not abnormal. I've often gone to the boat-launch near the Riverlands State Park in Turner, or the opposite direction along Allen Pond Rd. & through to the Circle K back on 202. That stretch is some of the finest, smoothest asphalt to fly along in the warm months.
As I've done a couple times, I went past the boat-launch & into the center of Turner where the schools are, & along to a right onto Bradford Road. Right onto General Turner Hill Rd. is a long, stark, & beautiful stretch of farmland & industry. Seen many deer along that way, in contrast to the warehouses & silos & machinery.
Although I'm not as completely familiar with this route as others, my philosophy is that rights onto larger roads will eventually, necessarily get me back to Rte. 202, which is true. At a junction along Howes Corner Rd./Rte. 219 at North Leeds is an incredible railroad machination of some sort, which I got some cool photos of.
It reminds me of the cover-art of "Turn On The Bright Lights" by Interpol, which is probably my favorite album ever, & is great & treacherous to listen to when sad.
In that same lot, I also snapped a nice pic of a halo around the moon, foreboding the snow to come.
It reminds me of one of my favorite paintings, which is "The Empyrean" by Gustave Doré.
Looking at them together, I think it almost certain Gustave was inspired by such a moon-ring.
Past that junction, the rule of rights still applies. It's a long drag through Wayne, & eventually back onto 202 on the merge-lane in Winthrop. Heading back towards Lewiston, I went left onto Norris Hill Rd. at Highmoor Farms in Monmouth, where I was moored on the side of the road late one night a few years ago when I flooded my engine while looking for the northern lights.
This got me to the beautiful Cumston Hall on Rte. 132 in that town, where Theater at Monmouth perform. I've been in one of their shows, & worked crew in others, as my mom & brother have. Down through Wales along the flank of Sabattus Pond got me right-turned onto Sabattus St./Rte 126.
I stopped to piss at Cumbie's in Sabattus, then took right onto Lisbon Rd. there, which we take to get to Jillson's Farm & Sugarhouse every Maine Maple Sunday. Instead of left onto Jordan Bridge Rd. where the farm is, I kept right on Lisbon Rd. which got me to the plains at Robinson Corner. Left onto Crowley Rd. here gets me on the exact route I took in that entry when I saw the meteor, so I'm not going to explain all that again.
After getting back to the area with Cumbie's and the House of Pizza & Dunkin' & that bar, I went right onto Sabattus's Main Street, which is another common route for me. Left onto Greene St. in the center of town got me onto lovely Sawyer Rd. which goes along the other flank of the pond, & to the intersection by the railroad-crossing which ends the forested segment of my standard double-loop routes, in Greene.
Instead of going right home, I went right at Gowell's all the way along Meadow Hill Rd./N. River Rd. again, just so I could take that right along the nice tar on Allen Pond Road, as previously described. It was nice, but the roads are still messy from the last snow.
Then I finally went home & smoked one last cigarette in the car after I popped inside to piss again, because as my brother says for food & concerts & myself also for cigarettes, "I can't truly enjoy it if I have to pee!". Which is very true. It stinks (literally & figuratively). I was quit for just over a month (admittedly, replaced by vape for much of it), but I'm back on that shit.
I listened to some good music, today. I put on an XTC mix on Spotify. My brother introduced me to them years ago, & I've recently been on a kick for 'em. Curated specifically by me via queuing were a couple particular songs in recently frequent rotation: "Complicated Game" & "Day In, Day Out" by the aforementioned band, & "Cities in Flame" by Siouxsie & the Banshees. When I stopped to take those pictures in Leeds, I changed the mix to one of New Order. A Spotify mix is automatically created by the program when you search it up, & puts together a variety of music with a majority of whatever artist you choose, as well as other music that sounds similar. My brother dislikes them, but I've discovered lots of good music this way.
It's 1:05 AM on Sunday 02/09, so I think that's about enough of that. I haven't eaten dinner, yet, though I'mn't slightly tired anymore (I pass a certain threshold when I stay up long enough & surpass tiredness).
This has been therapeutic. This is probably the longest entry on this blog to date (maybe rivaled by that meteor one), & is the most I've written in a long time. I've selfishly made myself a dull & depressing dunce for the past almost year-&-a-half, even though the only source of my sadness is the consequence of my own stupid actions.
I need to create. Not to be morbid, but I could die in my sleep tonight, or in a fiery wreck during one of these drives, & what writing would I have to show for it? Fuck-all. I have so much within me, or mixed-up between scribbled notes, & I swear, by Yeof, they will be put to light. I just need to stop making an ass of myself & fucking do it. Life's too short, my friends, & nothing is guaranteed. I will write these stories, inshayeof.
Be well, my friends. Stay warm & cozy. Drink some hot cocoa & put a movie on, if you can. In any case, let yourself be as well as you can be.
Until the next, your friend,
- Jacob "Yeof" Morin
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