Yvette Arts

My grandma used to tell us that she would hear helicopters approaching her occasionally as she drove along the road between our two small towns. We wondered what she meant because we knew that the road wasn’t patrolled from the air, and we never would see any helicopters when we drove along the same road. I don’t know how we discovered the “truth” about those “helicopters” that were bothering her, but the sound she thought was a hovering helicopter turned out to be the combination of her car tires hitting the safety grooves in the pavement between the edge of the road and the road’s shoulder. (Sometimes those cuts are even in the center of the road.) I’m sure most of us wander into those warning zones at one point or another as we drive.

Rumble Strip

Since that time of Grandma’s discovery, I have lovingly referred to those cuts in the pavement as “helicopters.” I have never known what to call those safety features put in by the makers of the road. And I suppose the grooves remained a mystery to me because they had no real name in my world. I just reveled in the pure delight of knowing my grandma thought she was being followed by a helicopter! My grandma passed away a few years ago, yet I still think of her often and get that familiar smile any time I happen to veer off to one side of the road and hit those grooves.

So, it seemed fitting to me that I discovered the real name to those helicopters on my way to a family reunion last weekend. As we were driving with all eight of our children to meet up with the family, I noticed a sign along the side of the road that said, “Center Rumble Strips.” I had never seen a road sign like that before, and I had no clue as to what it could mean. As I repeated the sign over and over in my head, it dawned on me that I was being alerted to the placement of “Rumble Strips” in the center of the road and not just on the side as is usually the case. RUMBLE STRIPS! What a great name for Grandma’s helicopters! And here are two definitions:

Rumble strips are grooves or rows of raised pavement markers placed perpendicular to the direction of travel to alert inattentive drivers. As a vehicle passes over the rumble strips, noise and vibration are produced, alerting the driver they are approaching a hazard. Citation

Rumble strips (also known as audio tactile profiled markings) are a road safety feature that alert drivers to potential danger by causing a tactile vibration and audible rumbling, transmitted through the wheels into the car body. A series of rumble strips is usually either applied in the direction of travel along an edge- or centerline to alert drivers when they drift from their lane, or across the direction of travel to warn drivers of a nearby danger-spot. Research has shown that rumble strips are highly effective (and also highly cost-effective) at reducing many types of accidents. (Wikipedia)

Well, there you go. Rumble Strips are safety features, pure and simple. Apparently they are quite effective at reducing accidents. As I continued to drive with my family to the reunion, I couldn’t help but think of my family and friends who serve as Rumble Strips in my life. 

Thanks, Grandma, for alerting me to the helicopters in the first place. I otherwise may not have been taught this lesson.

I have been inspired to write again. How did this happen? Well, two of my friends have very prolific blogs and I find myself so delighted by their words that I want to tell everyone about their blogs.

My friend, Sarah, writes the first blog I want to mention. When I first met Sarah, it was in the context of seeing her for the first time as someone I agreed to “hire” when I was the project manager over a new Web site at Brigham Young University. Sarah needed an internship and she came highly recommended by the professor over the project. I agreed to bring her aboard because we so desperately needed some help with writing. And well, I really couldn’t refuse, because Sarah came “free.” Her internship was a non-paid one.

Our office was like a janitor’s closet, so there wasn’t much room for the computers and desks and chairs and people. I had talked with Sarah on the phone about work but had yet to talk face to face with her. When I opened up the door to the office one morning, there Sarah sat with hair so red, pulled back in barrettes; glasses a bit thicker than mine, and a stuffy nose. (She happened to have a cold that morning and wasn’t feeling her best, hence the glasses, barrettes, and nose.) I knew I was seeing Sarah, although I had not pictured her with red hair. We became acquainted that morning and soon became friends.

Sarah was a quick learner and started to do the html for the site because the programmer always had too much to do to bother with all of the little changes that we needed. (He concentrated on the bigger issues and Sarah took care of the maintenance of the pages.) And well, over time, Sarah saved the site many times with her ability quickly adapt to whatever task was needed.

Well, Sarah moved on from that job to marriage and now has three redheads of her own. You can read about Sarah’s adventures at http://raisingredheads.blogspot.com.

Here is an excerpt from her entry of Sunday, June 29, 2008:

“As we were backing out of the garage, I looked back in the car and saw the kids back there, Gemma expectantly waiting for awesomeness, Ainsleigh and Donovan giving each other “5″ as hard as they possibly could, and erupting into giggles. And I looked at Joel and then at our house that I love. And all of a sudden I was remembering how, as teenager and pre-marriage Sarah, I envisioned myself in my 30s. There was always a nice home, a husband, three kids. And as I sat there in the car, heading to get ice cream, doing such a simple but familial thing, I felt very humbled by love and gratitude because I realized: I am where I always envisioned. I looked at my kids and thought, ‘Hey! We’re all here! We made it!’”

The next blog I want to brag about in this blog is by Holly. I also met Holly during my job as project manager for the same BYU Web site where I met Sarah. Holly also came highly recommended so I hired her. Little did I know that I would soon come to rely on Holly’s skills, just like I did with Sarah.

Holly and I also became good friends and I hired her again as my assistant when I changed jobs and started working full time for the Center for Instructional Design (now the Center for Teaching and Learning). Holly did a lot of writing during that time and I just loved her sarcastic wit that came through in her words. I told her that she could make millions from her writing. We made a pact that, whomever made it to their first millions, would generously share the wealth with the other. I knew that I would not make it, but was/am convinced that Holly would/will arrive at her millions just in time to save me from myself.

You can read all about Holly’s adventures at http://bosscox.wordpress.com. Here is an excerpt from a recent entry where she talks about all of the things she should never have to do alone:

“Yesterday we got a letter in the mail informing us that we don’t have the proper plumbing on our sprinkling system, and have 30 days to rectify this before the city turns our water off. Now, I could have SWORN we installed the backflow thingermajig when we put in the sprinkling system. That’s all up in the air still … but in the meantime, that means that my evening was full of fix the house-type things. Including a visit to the least favorite part of our house … the crawl space.”

The first real snow of the season is falling. The children immediately run outside into the crisp morning, wrapped in whatever they can quickly grab. I put a pan of hot chocolate on the stove. The front door opens and closes several times, wafting bursts of cold air into the house.

Faint sounds of laughter and pain (“Mom, Michael threw a snowball at me!”) drift through steamed windows. In one of my peeks through the frost I see snow and leaves and scarves and gloves and bodies all mixed together.

Red noses find there way back to me. Words are spoken through shivering smiles. I help cold arms and hands remove damp clothing. As I set aside the coats, my stocking feet absorb the melted remains.

I invite the adventurers into the kitchen. I stir the chocolate milk.

As I dip a cup into the pot, a memory of my mother touches my soul. My arm becomes her arm, mixing and pouring. My heart becomes her heart….embracing and loving.

I just noticed that my calendar on the wall was still on the February page, so I flipped over to March. I purchased the calendar at a 70% off sale at Hallmark. As I looked through the calendar, I saw that each month had the same smaller picture in the top right corner.

Something to Treasure by Jean Monti.
(Click on the picture to get to the gallery.)