Raindrops keep falling
hope will keep us from drowning
waiting for the sun
Wendy ❀ 2015
My garden and I have been waiting for the sun.
I keep my camera in my pocket while I do garden chores (aka: labors of love),
so I won’t miss a single opportunity to snap a photo.
Even while I’ve been teaching our two sons to drive,
I can’t help but notice the gardens we pass by.
These pictures I’m sharing with you are from my own cottage garden.
In the previous post I introduced you to my inner Crazy-lady.
I believe all writers have a spunky character living in their mind—
the kind of person who ignores the critical voices and naysayers.
Crazy characters live outside the box.
The trick is to allow them to venture outside your head and onto the paper.
You can always edit them later.
Here’s a sneak peek at what happened the last time I took one of my sons out for a driving lesson:
Sane-self crossed her arms and glared at Crazy-lady. “Get with the program.”
“Huh?” Crazy-lady asked. “Just checking out the gardens.”
“I noticed.” Sane-self nodded. “You’re supposed to be teaching your son to drive.”
“I am teaching him.”
“Then how come you didn’t remind him to come to a complete stop at the last two stop signs?”
“I didn’t? Wait a minute. You never come to a full stop either .”
“So. You’re a hypocrite.”
Sane-self clenched her teeth. “We just want the young man to pass his driving exam. Alright?”
“Whatever you sa… oh, look, those daffodils are about to bloom.”
“You’re blooming crazy.”
Train a child in the way he should go,
and when he is old he will not turn from it.
Since my husband and I are teaching both of our sons how to drive,
I can talk about our adventures without you knowing which son did what.
As in, let’s just say, we’ve run at least one red light and hit one structure.
No sirens sounded.
And the structure was on our own property.
And we have not told either son about the driving misdemeanors of the other.
Only you know (they don’t read their mother’s blog—ever).
I don’t like driving.
When I wanted to learn how to drive,
it was out of necessity.
At the age of 18, I’d secured a good paying job that was way out-of-town.
I needed a car.
But who was going to teach me to drive?
My parents were already experiencing turbulence in their life,
and didn’t want to add driving lessons to the list.
So my boyfriend volunteered.
During our first and only driving lesson together,
I hit the brakes
(It was better than hitting the driving instructor).
Then I turned off the engine.
I was mad at the car (mostly).
And it wasn’t just any car.
It was my boyfriend’s 1966 Corvette that sported a 427 engine with a racing clutch.
If you so much as thought about lifting your foot off the clutch,
the vette took off like a rocket.
I jumped out, slammed the door, and stormed down the road.
My boyfriend yelled, “Where are you going?”
“Home! I’m not driving that car.”
It was years before I attempted to drive a standard again.
But my boyfriend’s dear mother offered to teach me to drive an automatic,
using her sedate sedan,
and what a gracious teacher she was.
I passed after failing the first test (Did I tell you I hate driving?).
The sweet lady, who taught me to drive,
even co-signed a car loan when I picked out a
sensible Toyota Corolla.
I didn’t miss one single payment.
But I loved that little car. ♥
So I know all about the fear factor when it comes to learning how to drive.
And now I’m learning about how scary it is to be a driving teacher.
It would help if I’d remember to keep my eyes on the driver and the road
at all times.
And not on those darling gardens and cozy-looking front porches with wicker and …
“Yoo-hoo?” Sane-self nudged Crazy-lady.
“Ouch.” Crazy-lady rubbed her arm. “That hurt.”
“Well stop jamming my foot into the floorboard.”
“I can’t help it. His driving scares me–and besides, it’s my foot too.”
“He’s improving. Focus on that–would you.”
“Look out!” Crazy-lady clung to the dash.
“Relax. He just clipped the curb. You need to cut back on caffeine.”
Crazy-lady dug her nails into her palms. “Can I stay home next time?”
In case you’re wondering,
I didn’t marry the boyfriend with the wonderfully patient mother.
I married a patient man who also has a patient mother.
And now I’m trying to be a patient mother without going crazy.
I am crazy-in-love with my family.
Have you got a driving story you’d like to share ?
I’m all ears.
Please say a prayer for us regarding teaching our sons to drive.
Pray that we’d make good memories.
And that we wouldn’t make too many mistakes (red lights etc).
And feel free to add your own prayer request in the comments.
I’ll pray for you before I post my reply.
Crazy Love Blessings ~ Wendy ❀
~ ♥ ~
P.S. — Beware of getting rear-ended by other drivers
when you come to a full stop at a stop sign.
Most people don’t expect the person in front
to actually obey the rules.
“Whew!” Sane-lady said. “That was a close call.”
Crazy-lady smirked. “I guess that’s why you don’t usually stop.”
53 thoughts on “Driving Mrs.Crazy ❀ (teaching teens how to drive)”
Greatstory and what a lot of nature photos
Thank you, Marylou. ❀
Great this really put a smile on my day. My garden right now is a nice blend of snow and ice but it is still my garden. Blessings
I’m happy to hear I made you smile. We’ve been doing a lot of that around here these days. ❀ Blessings on your week, Pastor Pete.
Beautiful photographs. Loved them all. Good luck with the kids. LOL Been there done that:)
It gives me hope to see that you survived it all. 😉 Thank you. ❀
Making memories is a lost art. Your story of learning to drive reminds me of when I was in college in Knoxville, Tennessee, a very “hilly” and mountainous area of the U.S. A “brother” of mine just arrived from Kenya and bought a car and asked me to teach him to drive. He’d never driven before. He bought an old Toyota Corolla with a manual stick. I told him a “stick” isn’t probably the best way to learn to drive especially in the hills of Tennessee with stop lights and stop signs at the top of many hills. Before we ever got to the hills, we practiced on flat ground, experiencing all the joys of learning to drive a stick shift, jerking, jumping and killing the engine. He jumped out of the car, frustrated, angry and in 100% seriousness said to me, “MY BROTHER, THIS CAR HAS A DEMON!!!!”
That’s hilarious, Brad. ❀ I remember being traumatized trying to drive a standard. But I eventually learned (when I was in my thirties) because I fell in love with a Toyota Celica (which ended up getting stolen and totaled by a 14 yr old).
I admire you for trying to teach someone to drive a standard. You must have nerves of steel & tons of patience.
The fusion of words and gorgeous images is wonderful…I to am anxious for spring.
Thank you, Charlie. I enjoyed perusing your garden posts and learning more about Solomon’s Seal. ❀
When I was ready to learn to drive I paid for Young Driver’s of Canada to teach me. My dad also let me drive his car and he gave many good tips as well. He was very patient with me and when I passed the driving and written test for my learner’s permit, he treated me to a McDonald’s breakfast even though he hates McDonalds!
Diana, I’ll bet that was your ‘happiest meal’ ever at McDonald’s. Seeing dads and daughters together always melts my heart. I enjoy seeing my husband spending time with our daughter. ❀
Wendy, your photographs are stunning! What kind of camera are you using to take the close-ups of the flowers? I don’t think it’s so crazy to be noticing the gardens while teaching your son. Contrary to my nature, I was a laid-back driving teacher for both my children. I think there really is tremendous value in simply being a positive, reassuring energy in the car. You can give confidence just by being there, without having to nitpick over all the rules. They are learning a new skill, and their mind and body need to learn it. Praying for you and your sons as you all learn something new. My prayer request is for healing. Thank you for your prayers, too.
Prayers sent up for you, dear Cheryl. Thank you for your encouragement. I’m relaxing more and more as their driving skills increase. Our sons thank us for helping. They read on the internet about parents who gave up on teaching–so that made us feel special that they appreciate our efforts.
Blessings of healing & peace. ❀
P.S. My camera is a humble Olympus FE-20. I set it on super-macro for closeups. Usually I have to take several shots to get one that’s clear. xo
Love your “crazy lady”! My mom had a ’52 Plymouth, although I learned how to drive at school in a ’57 Chevy. Being behind the wheel of that car was like being on an aircraft carrier compared to Mom’s car. One day, as Mom and I were going somewhere, she pulled over to the side of the road and wanted me to “take over.” Oops! The Chevy was an automatic. I had no idea how to drive a stick shift. Mom was a little annoyed. To this day, although the Ranger I have is an automatic, I’d rather have a stick-shift. I had a little Nissan 5-speed that I could down-shift almost to a complete stop. Saved a lot on brakes. I suppose now, though, if I actually had one, being 74 years old, I might think otherwise about having to do all that extra work!
Clarence, your ‘aircraft carrier’ description made me smile. Those big classic cars really do feel enormous to drive. And having a standard does require more focus (which I tend to lack during flowering season) . Thank you for the re-blog. ❀
Yeah, they don’t make ’em like they used to!
Reblogged this on nightlightblogdotcom and commented:
This for my daughter and son-in-law, who have fledgling drivers on the edge of the nest!
Oh my, been there, done that – four times. No wonder my hair is greying. I survived it with most of my sanity intact. All my four children passed their driving tests – a miracle. Now they are better drivers than their mother.
Wow, four times! Mollie, no wonder you can write such deep and emotive hymns. You’ve truly been through the valley of death (I’m not totally serious about the death part). And I expect my sons to easily surpass me in skill. My husband is a great driver, and his influence is good too. ❀
A P.S. One thing about being a driving instructor – it does improve your prayer life. By the way, my Dad and my boyfriend (now my husband) tried to teach me to drive. I was so nervous, I immediately called the local driving school. Best idea I ever had.
That’s how my husband learned. The school focused on defensive driving–so we’re passing that knowledge onto our sons. ❀
As someone who has spent a decent chunk of his life teaching others to drive (when I use the term ‘others’ it must be deemed to include some human beings) I have a thousand stories…
Frederick, I can imagine a driving instructor writing books as fully engaging as James Herriot’s wonderful stories. Facts are often funnier than fiction. ❀
It is a thought, although I’ve never done it. Pure terror sometimes defies description…
I appreciate that you used the word terror. It’s truly apt for those first few lessons in traffic. 🙁 But I survived. 😉 And I see that you did too.
Lovely photos, Wendy! It’s nice to vicariously experience spring via your post. (It’s 3 degrees F here this morning.) One advantage of living on a farm is that our kids could get driving practice by taking a truck out in a field (before planting or after harvest). Nothing to hit.
Prayer for you: Lord, please, help Wendy to have patience and wisdom as she teaches her boys to drive. Keep them safe and sane.
Constance, I truly appreciate your prayer. I can’t wait to celebrate with my sons. How lovely that your family could practice on the farm. That’s ideal. ❀ Thank you.
I’ll definitely add an apple to this bowl! Wendy, you had me in stitches. Because I’m going through this very thing. I never realized how scary teaching a child to drive could be. We’ve gone through a red light. I said, “If that car hadn’t stopped, you realize we’d be dead. Right?” I have so much respect for my high school driver’s ed teacher. Mercy me! Pray for me; I’ll be praying for you!
Dear Shelli, we’re in the trenches together in so many ways. Prayed for you. I prayed for joy, peace, and safety (& laughter). <3
I cried, secretly, tears of joy after the first time I took one of my sons out for a lesson. There's a story behind that–but it's for much later.
This week I was spying on a driving instructor and student while I was parked in town. My heart went out to both of them. Nope–I wouldn't want it as a profession unless I was paid a big bundle. Too scary. But it feels right and good to be teaching my own sons.
Blessings to you and your family. ❀ So glad I made you laugh.
You bring back so many memories, Wendy. I remember when my daughter got her license and drove away in our car for the first time without one of us, I felt as if there was an invisible umbilical cord attached from me to her and dragging my heart and my mind (and my worries) all over town. It took a few trips on her own to get over that! Then one day she called me from university to tell me she had gotten a speeding ticket. Pulled out and passed a cop, she did! lol She was a smart girl, though, calling me and giving me time to calm down before she came home from classes. She still had to pay the ticket herself though. 🙂
Your flowers are absolutely beautiful!!! <3
Jennifer, I like how you worded the “invisible umbilical cord.” My daughter has a couple of years to go before driving lessons start. It’s going be tough to let her go. But letting go will be good for both of us.
The RCMP must be mellower in BC. I only got a warning for speeding. But that was way back in 79. It taught me a lesson, nonetheless.
❀ Hugs. <3
Loved the photos and the narrative. I really do love your Crazy Lady because I so identify with that. My daughter and my husband have been convinced that I will get hauled off to jail one day for wandering up on people’s property to take pictures or for snipping off a seedhead from gardens I visit. And my daughter frequently will say to me when she thinks I’m not listening, “Mom, what did I just say.” And generalizations don’t earn me many points for sure. The other thing she does is really kind of cute. She knows my propensity to follow my nose, as it were, and wander off in pursuit of something other that the task at hand. So now, she comes after me and holds my hand to keep me going in the right direction. Her children often keep an eye on me too. Life’s so much fun and I kept my nose to the grind stone for so long. Now that I own my own time, I seem to have lost my restraint upon
occasion. But I love it and will no doubt keep being the crazy lady and the eccentric one as one of my sister’s calls me. We have so much in common. I sure wish we lived close to each other. Love and hugs, N <3 <3 <3
Dear Natalie, we could be twins. And your daughter reminds me of mine. I can only imagine how crazy I’ll be by the time I have grandchildren. I love your spunky spirit and I love you.
My lavender plants originated from seeds I’d saved from in front of a library we’d visited in a different city.
Keep all of your eccentricity, and I’ll keep mine too. Crazy ladies rock. And because we trust in the Rock–we get to carry on with this fun forever. After all, the Lord did say we’re to be as little children. Hugs, sweet poet friend. <3 I wish we lived closer too.
I think perhaps we are twinkies, Wendy!!! And I couldn’t choose a better sister than you. Not too long ago, my now 13 year old oldest grandson, said he loved the way I used to get down on the floor and play with the kids. What he probably doesn’t know is that I did it as much for me as for them. I love your expression “spunky spirit” and I think you and I should most definitely keep our “craziness” because as you so aptly said, “Crazy Ladies rock,” and I will add “like no other.” So here’s to spunk and being “still crazy after all these years.” Let’s keep each other young at heart and in spirit!!! Love and hugs, N <3 <3 <3
<3 Praying that your spunky spirit will be flying to Paris with your family this year. ❀
Thanks, me too! 🙂
I remember those days when my kids were still in their teens and I had to teach them how to drive. I am praying for you and your family. Please pray for mine, too.
Theresa, prayers sent up for you & yours. Nothing blesses a mom more than knowing her children are walking with the Lord. This is my heart’s desire–and I know it’s your desire too. Hugs. <3
Wendy I am dreading that time when it arrives. At least I live in an area that the kids could practice up and down our driveway without any traffic. Good luck on this nerve racking journey. Might I add those captures are divine, each one should be on a card for sure.
Kath, you’re super blessed to have room without traffic for your future young drivers to roam. It gets easier pretty fast, and it’s so rewarding to see them progress (but I still press my foot into the floorboard whenever we’re approaching stop signs).
I appreciate your idea about the cards. I’ve bookmarked the idea and am considering using Etsy for my handmade purses as well. ❀ You inspire me with your beautiful art.
Sounds great Wendy look forward to seeing your handmade purses too.
What a fun and interesting post. the craziness of driving – or teaching someone to drive on the road – combined with the serene beauty of spring flowers.
Thank you, dear Cynthia. I had crazy fun with this post, and it was cathartic writing it too. The lovely and distracting flowers are increasing by the day. But our sons’ driving skills are growing as well. ❀
Loved this post, not only for the fabulous photos of your cottage garden but for the driving stories. It took me back. My husband taught our eldest son the basics before we gave him six lessons from a driving instructor. This birthday present put the final polish on his skills. Our youngest son was my responsibility and I loved the quality time we spent together, with Peter at the wheel. We ended each of our driving lessons at a little cafe where I had a coffee, he drank a Dr Pepper, and we shared a sweet. He too received the final lessons for his birthday. Both boys had a minor accident in their first car, (everybody does I’m told) and both today are good, steady drivers. Those were the days!
Dear Mary, thank you for sharing your lovely driving story with me. ❀ Having one on one time with each son is definitely a bonus when it comes to giving lessons.
My, my, you are brave to teach your boys to drive. I handed over the responsibility to a driving instructor. However, I think that was a good decision because I only learned to drive in my mid-forties. Up until that time I was too scared to drive. Now I enjoy it, most of the time.
Thank you for telling me I’m brave. I’m like most mothers in that I do what I need to do to make ends meet. Besides, I’m going to need some good stories to share at their wedding receptions. 😉 I love my sons.
This will be a great story for future purposes.
Smiles & prayers… 😀
Bette, I’m glad I made you smile. Thank you for sharing this on Facebook. <3