OK then. Larry’s knee was bugging him, so when I got home for our date night, he suggested I take Eric’s dog for a run up the canyon. Which I did and had a great time! Beautiful snow, beautiful, quiet canyon.
When I was finished with the 4 mile run/hike/snow experience, I drove to Iceberg, thinking that would be a nice treat for Larry and I—after all, I worked off all those calories, why not put them back in? I picked up shakes, onion rings, fries, and a chicken sandwich for Larry. (drool) One of my students waited on me, and did a great job. (sort of)
When I got home, Larry’s shake was chocolate marshmallow instead of caramel and he had onion rings instead of fries. I thought I could just trade him, but he can’t have chocolate, so I offered to run back down and buy new stuff. (He told me not to worry about it, but I said, "I don't mind", really meaning it. (This is where the ‘No good deed goes unpunished’ comes into play)
So…I’m driving on 13400 South in the dark, with some guy driving up my rear pretty close, and I see Kneaders, where I will turn in to go to Iceberg. I flipped my blinker and turned into what looked like the road at first. I found out quickly that I had turned too early, and ended up in an empty, very muddy lot. There were tracks from another vehicle, so I thought I could follow them and go out the other way. It didn’t quite work out that way in my little Honda Accord. I made a pretty good effort and ended up 7/8 of the way, probably from momentium until I stopped dead. I tried to rock, but it didn’t work.
I realized I left my phone home (because this was going to take 10 easy minutes-tops, right?), so I had no way to call home for my knight-in-shining armor to come rescue me.
I got out of the car and walked to iceberg, one inch taller than normal with the mud on the bottom of my shoes. The patrons of Iceberg were impressed with my muddy Nikes, I’m sure, with the odd looks I was getting.
My student let me use his phone to call Larry, then he made me an order of fries and the right shake and didn’t charge me—so I gave him a tip instead. I stomped back (kind of hard to walk with mud stuck to my shoes) to my sunken Honda and waited. And waited…and waited…until I thought Larry must have problems, and he couldn't call me, not realizing I had used another phone to call him.
Boy, did I recognize how dependant I am on my phone.
Did I mention I took the dog, who I left in the car while I made the phone call and who ate my onion rings. WITH the fry sauce... :-(
Just when I was ready to go back and borrow the phone again, Larry showed up (yes!). He wasn’t happy—who would be? He had to go buy a new tow rope because a certain child borrowed ours, that's what took so long.
But he kneeled down on his poor new fake knee and hooked me up. (Isn't love grand) He pulled with the truck, but my car was too steeped in mud for my engine to turn over. (sigh).
He got out of the truck and said, "Your wheels aren't even moving!", in that tone of voice that meant he believed I must be an idiot. He then pulled me backwards a ways, and the car started. It probably was good for the engine to be out of the gooey mire. Larry moved his truck around the car (thank goodness for 4-wheel drive) hooked up the rope, pulled a few feet, and the rope flipped off. I'm thinking 'there goes the bumper'. (Can you picture the fun we are having?) But it was ok. He did it again and towed me forward to the road, unhooked the car, and I pulled out, leaving a track of mud all the way home.
I lost my appetite, so the calories I burned up the canyon stayed burned, which is always nice.
Twas a date night to remember. Why do the same boring movie night, when you can do a bit of mud wrestling?
As much as I feel overwhelmed or guilty because I never feel like I'm organized enough, good enough, skinny enough, or smart enough, I really do like my life.
