I drive a truck; I’ve almost always driven a truck since I got my license seven years ago. This particular beater truck has fallen apart and gotten me stuck in some startling situations. About half of these situations involve snow. Audience, before you start heckling that I’m a woman driver, let us look at the facts, this beast of a vehicle has over 300,000 miles on it, with the original engine and transmission. I can no longer provide an exact number because of all the things to give out on it one of the more resent items was the mileage counter. Another, fact usually when I get stuck in the snow, it’s related to a parking space. After years of experience I typically keep a shovel and sometimes rock salt in the bed for such occasions.
When I got stuck today while at a local library that was not the case. Despite living in the state shaped as a mitten warning others of our weather, and it being January, this particular winter the snow hasn’t stuck for more than a few days. During such a time period I sometimes don’t even manage to leave the house. So, I was stuck in a little dip, with my left rear tire spinning, and what did I have in the bed of my truck? Tree branches. My father during one of the warmer days trimmed one of our trees, loaded the truck to transport them and well obviously they didn’t get far.
Just as I was about to take a stick and start digging myself out the guy parked in the car next to me offered to help push me out. I don’t care if you are Arnold Schwarzenegger (I was unaware of this site until now) now or 30 years ago; I’ve never seen one person be able to get my truck to budge. Not because they aren’t strong, I just know pushing in snow you have little traction. So, when another more elderly man offered his services, I was grateful, but I could only think if I reverse too fast this guy is going to fall and break his hip. And it's going to be my fault.
No one got hurt, that man knew exactly what he was doing, thank goodness. By now I should know better than to underestimate people. I thanked them heartily before I left, and was happy to know people still come together to help each out.
Not long after my brother and sister-in-law arrived with their 50 lb dog, Roxi. Today, we were celebrating my nephew’s fifth birthday at my sister’s house. It was a day filled with one energetic little boy, a 3 year old dog, and my sister’s new 8 week old puppy, Belle.
Regardless, of the fact that Belle could curl up and fit in her own food bowl, she wanted to play with Roxi. Even when Roxi, growled and barked to make the smaller dog leave her alone, Belle had no problem barking in her face right back. She is a scrappy little thing, although I admit the quicker she learns Roxi’s tail is not a chew toy the better off she’s going to be. Belle, even when faced with little odds of success was determined to play with her doggy cousin and didn't give up. I respect that.
The evening ended with a minor indoor flood back at my parents house, resulting in a water leaking to the basement as well, so there was twice the mess for the effort of one. I couldn’t help but laugh, I reminded myself this is what happens, the unexpected. There was no plan for the flood, but as my favorite quote goes “Events are what happens when our plans fall apart.” I always love a good event.
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