Ya Gotta Laugh – Carolyn
Yesterday afternoon in the rain, George and I were driving sedately down the parking lot aisle at Kroger’s, when a half ton pickup with a steel flatbed backed out of his space—hard—and into my side of the Expedition. Hard. We weren’t hurt, thank God, but the whole left side of my car is smushed in. Both doors and the back quarter panel will have to be replaced. The guy was insured, not always the case in these parts, and had a driver’s license and everything. The car got us home in one piece, but they can’t begin to repair it until next Monday!
And on next Wednesday George’s two sons, Kevin and Kendall, arrive for five days. The prospect of feeding two giant (one is six six) young men, when I have been feeding us out of the microwave division of the grocery store is daunting. I’ve forgotten how to cook!
This is simply the latest chapter in The Great Disaster Saga. And since survived disaster is funny, in retrospect I suppose this is—or will be.
If not for the rain, we would have been to be driving my mare, Zoe, with other carriages through a charming ante-bellum town called La Grange that was having its annual blessing of the animals. Good thing we didn’t go. Zoe doesn’t appreciate raindrops falling on her head.
I wonder how the Amish manage not to get themselves run over. I would no more dare to drive Zoe and my carriage on the highway in front of my house than I would dare to pilot the space station—do they pilot that thing anyway or just let it whirl? I can just see us trundling along when an eighteen wheeler comes flying around the corner doing fifty miles an hour. Assuming he didn’t hit us, Zoe would probably levitate and overturn us both in the nearest ditch. On the road we carry a ‘slow traffic’ orange triangle attached to the back of us, but you have to be fairly close to see the darn thing. By then it’s too late. Let’s face it, my Expedition held up pretty well against the assault. It hit us on my side rather than George’s. I’m glad of that. He might have been hurt.
And it didn’t give a hoot whether somebody clipped it or not. It looks awful, but it’s not in pain. If anybody hit Zoe, not only would she be hurt, but she’d be really annoyed. And I’d turn into a homicidal lunatic.
So, I guess I’ll spend the next couple of weeks driving my disreputable farm truck, and continue to do my carriage driving off road where we’re safe at least from murderous vehicles. Besides, driving through the autumn woods behind a horse is just about heaven. I recommend it.