That I Can Drive a Stick-Shift

All my growing-up life, until 1997, my family only owned standard transmission vehicles. 

So when, at the age of 12, I convinced my mom I was old enough (and in my mind mature enough) to get behind the wheel of our van and practice driving in the empty church parking lot...  It was in a stick-shift.  So I guess you could say I got in my first car accident in a stick-shift (by not turning the steering wheel soon enough, and then -- in a fit of panic -- punching the gas instead of the brake, propelling the vehicle over the curb, nearly down a hill (with boulders at the bottom), and nearly into a tree.  And then my mom remembered the emergency brake.

My mom HATES this story.  I think we both learned the same lesson that day:  I was not old enough -- or mature enough.

But the time did eventually come when I was.  And my dad felt strongly that, though by that point we did have a vehicle with an automatic transmission, I needed to learn how to drive a stick-shift.  His theory was -- and still is:  If you can drive a stick-shift, you can drive anything.  And it's pretty true.

Because I could drive a stick-shift, I could drive the very first car my dad bought me:  a 1980 Ford Pinto.  He bought it cheap and then fixed it up inside so it looked really nice inside -- new seat covers, new carpet, new dashboard cover...  Because I could drive a stick-shift, I could drive a truck home from Georgia in the middle of the night on random back roads when the other driver was having a hard time staying awake.  Because I could drive a stick-shift, when my Buick died a couple years ago, I could drive my husband's 1988 Honda Civic to get myself to work every day until we found the vehicle we wanted (the van).  And because I can drive a stick-shift, I could go to my morning meeting at church today in the Civic and leave the van for my husband to bring our munchkin later on, rather than all of us being super early for church.  Plus, the Civic gets way better gas mileage. 

Of course, I'm not such a fan of a stick-shift in these Western Washington hills...  I mean, they are everywhere.  We live at the very top of a particularly steep one.  And since I don't drive a stick-shift very often, my skills are a bit rusty and I get nervous starting on a hill in the upward position...  I'm bound to kill the car at least once. 

But I'm still quite grateful that I can drive a stick-shift -- even in Western Washington.  Because, in a pinch, or even for convenience, it sure does come in handy!

What are you grateful for today?