We pulled into Princeton pretty much on schedule, having squeezed artfully between rush hour in Greater Boston/Providence and in Greater NYC. The driving went smoothly, apart from a wee complexity engendered by our efforts to repair the blown fuse. Our first crack at fuse replacement seems to have involved removing one fuse from where it was at home and reinserting it in a hitherto empty slot — that fuse turning out to have been the one that controls the windshield wipers. We didn’t notice, of course, until. . . the mist that had been hovering over the highway descended and started covering the windshield. (Margaret located a diagram for the fusebox in a part of the owner’s manual that I hadn’t seen before, which made diagnosis and recovery infinitely easier.)
We made it fine to the first exit with a truckstop, where we bought some replacement fuses and a needlenose plier (to substitute for the fuse puller, which had headed for a different horizon long ago, along with the cover for the fuse box); we replaced the wiper fuse (success!) and the mirrors/lighter fuse (success again!), grabbed some refreshments, and hunkered down for the rest of the drive.
Now we’re pretty worn out from travel, but comfy cozy in our Princeton digs. We’ll pick up Beatrice later in the day — assuming she’ll still deign to live with us — take out dinner from some congenial establishment, and fall fast asleep.