A Tale of Two Beasts

Let me tell you a little story...about 2 beasts.

This morning, as I was laying in bed, hoping that the coffee would make itself, Duane nudges me and says:
"Hey, there was a deer out front, a deer. Isn't that cool???"
I reply with:
"He wasn't eating everything in my garden was he?"

I was assured that, no, the deer was out front, by the road, my garden is fine.

After he is gone, I get up, put the coffee that did not make itself on and looked out my window...at my decidedly barer than yesterday garden under my birch tree...that stupid deer mowed down ALL my hostas...every.single.leaf. Except one. He left JUST.ONE.

Thanks.

And I hope that your relatives thank Duane for this:



Because, while I am not a hunter, the other person who lives here is...and he.will.kill.you.

Now, while my coffee is brewing, and I am sitting down to my usual routine my cell phone rings...at 6:45 am. That never happens.

It is Duane. His truck, his big, black beast of a truck, his baby, is broken. He is not happy. Could I come bring the jeep, because he thinks there is a tow rope in the back, and he can't leave the truck in this parking lot all day...So, I get in the jeep, and drive the 2 miles down the road. Thinking to myself the whole time...how are we going to tow this big, black truck home? WHO is going to DRIVE the truck and WHO is going to DRIVE the jeep.

Apparently, in Ohio, they don't call tow trucks. They use a rope and one person drives the car that works, REEEEEEEEEEEEEEAL slow.....while the other person drives the broken truck....and if you do not do this JUST right...mayhem can break out.
Well, I am not one to take chances, but it was pretty early and I did not have time to protest, and get all stressica'd out and worry about the legality of what we were about to do. So, we tied the truck to the jeep and off I went...every once in a while getting lurched forward when the tension between the two trucks gets too tight.

We finally make it to our road, and as I turn down the road, we get a little too much slack in the rope and the trucks tire runs over it...yeah, like I am supposed to know how to do this? In NH, as a female, when our car breaks down...we CALL A TOW TRUCK! D'uh. So, we get out of the car, Duane gets a little cranky and I get back in and hope that I can pull the rope out from under the truck. I am successful and we are on our way back down the road...

The last thing I need to do is to turn us into our driveway, well, I THOUGHT I was going slow enough...apparently, I am no expert when it comes to towing another truck with a ROPE, and I was going a teensy bit too fast...oops. I feel a GREAT.BIG.LURCH and I see Duane raise his hands in frustration. I know this cannot be good. She comes to her final resting place, I get out of the jeep, shaking from the adrenaline and then we see it. The bumper of the truck. The bumper that was attached to the rope. It is not where it should be...oops.

So, the moral of the story is twofold. If your truck breaks down, call a tow truck. Or, if you don't want to call a tow truck, have somebody other than your girlfriend drive the other vehicle, because she is all set.



I think the bumper looks fine. Don't you?