Busy day includes trips through golden arches

Having grown up in a small rural town in southeastern Virginia, I never saw a McDonald’s until I left home and went to college near Riverside, Calif. Then, because I was a starving college student, I couldn’t afford to eat there very often. When my roomies and I could afford to splurge, it was a treat to get a Big Mac, fries and a drink.

Today, it’s an early Saturday morning, and the rain clouds part and sunshine floods my part of North Idaho. My husband and I have a really busy schedule today. We have commitments to help clean our church, clean our own house and go to the Car d’Lane on Sherman Avenue. Realizing we didn’t have any breakfast makings in our home, we decided that McDonald’s sausage egg-McMuffins would hit the spot. Besides, it’s cheaper than making breakfast at home.

A quick drive-through under the golden arches, and we’re on our way. Two blocks later I discover a missing Sausage McMuffin with egg. Whiff of white steam begins puffing from my husband’s ears and nostrils. I volunteer to go in McDonald’s lobby and collect the missing sandwich. The smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls hangs in the air. The teenage girl at the counter is polite and helpful. She apologizes and hands me the missing McMuffin, two packs of ketchup and a smile.

Back in the car my husband complains. “We’re going to be late!” He hates to be late – to anything. Our family has teased him for years. We claim that the only thing he will be late to is his own funeral, and that’s because he won’t be driving.

We’re only three minutes late for cleaning the church, but my husband apologizes. “Nothing to worry about,” we are assured. “There are plenty of cleaning opportunities still available.”

We sweep and mop all the white-gray tiles in the building. An hour later we’re finished and heading home, where more cleaning opportunities await us.

We get some of the housework done before the flu bug hits my husband. Wow! That is a nasty little critter! I get out the echinacea, vitamin C and Airborne and leave the house. My son is out with his friends, driving his new-to-him 1997 Chevy Blazer, so I take myself to the Car d’Lane.

Between moody bursts of rain and sunshine, I join the crowd on Sherman Avenue. We walk past a brushed aluminum 1981 DeLorean and a shiny red 1966 Fiat 500 that looks somewhat like an oversized roller skate with a roof. I stand for long minutes staring at my personal favorite, a deep-green 1973 Corvette Stingray.

I smile in awe of these beautiful machines. The mood of the crowd is one of joy and appreciation for the work and investments that have been poured into these beautiful dream cars. My husband and I enjoy this bit of nostalgia each year. I wish he were here with me.

My personal thanks go out to the owners, investors and organizers of this event. I love walking down Sherman Avenue among hundreds of friends I haven’t met yet, hearing the water fountains trickling and smelling the aromas from sidewalk restaurants.

Speaking of restaurants, there’s the San Francisco Deli. I am still missing my pickle from last week’s picnic. I go inside to claim one. Robert is slicing meats just inside the door, and I tell him I am here to pick up my pickle. He and the girls at the counter try to find me a pickle, but they are out and so I leave without my pickle, but I’ll be back.

The walk to the Coeur d’Alene Resort parking lot is short and uneventful, and I still have miles to go today. I will make a visit to the Aspen Nursery and the Wal-Mart in Post Falls, and in Rathdrum I will go to Chip Masters for compost and then to the Westwood Gardens Nursery for dahlia bulbs. I wonder how much it is going to cost me to get my son to help me in the yard later.

After doing all my chores, I am almost home when I pass the McDonald’s on Haney again. I’m hungry, again. Pulling under the same golden arches, I give my order for a bacon-cheeseburger with a soft drink. At the first window I check my order thoroughly. This time it’s perfect.

I eat it on the way home, savoring the crisp bacon and melted cheese. The iced cola slides down my parched throat and I am ready to face my son, plant dahlias and check on a sick husband. How was your Saturday?