Thursday, January 19, 2012

How I almost maybe kind-of died. Again.

This winter, Rachael and I have been CURSED. Well, maybe only I have been cursed. Or maybe Rachael is arranging meet-ups with me, then informing a hit-man/woman of my route in order to get me killed. I don't know. Rachael, did you put a hit out on me? Is it because we accidentally buy and make the same clothes?

The first time, I was driving to Rachael's house so we could go to Fort Wayne to go to several yarn stores, Biaggi's, and as many bakeries as we could find. On the way, it was snowing. It wasn't bad enough for me to descend into raw panic, but it was bad enough to cause some slippery road issues. The solution was to drive normally, but reduce speed for turning and also to not slam on the brakes like one would when stomping a spider into oblivion. No problem.

But then, as I drove past the Happy Horse Farm, which Mom named because the horses there looked well cared for and...happy, a dude with some kind of top-of-the-line Chevy truck pulled out of the Happy Horse Farm Driveway, pulling an empty horse trailer. And while the truck had awesome traction and what-not, the horse trailer may well have been the FIRST HORSE TRAILER EVER, it was so beaten and abused, and it did NOT have traction at all, resulting in the trailer swinging back and forth behind the truck like a toddler with one of those duck pull-toy things. You know the ones.

That would not have been a problem, except I was in the opposite lane and suddenly a ginormous truck-plus-trailer was heading directly toward me, poised for a head-on collision. And I had nowhere to go, except off the side of the road, which was elevated, then down into the ditch where I would be trapped until my car could be drug back out, if my car did not flip and roll several times.

Mercifully, the truck regained control before I had to choose between the two.

Then I met up with Rachael and Katherine, and we ate lots of pastries to make up for the near-death experience. And we also bought yarn. To cushion us in case of a deadly, deadly crash.

Today, I was meeting Rachael for lunch, because we do that sometimes. And on my way, as I drove through yet another snow storm, I came to a stop at a light. It was a red light. Then I looked in my rear-view mirror.

In the mirror, I saw a giant Mack truck. They are bigger than the Chevy ones, and are often used in road repair to carry around gravel and things. But this one must have been empty, because it was not heavy enough to avoid the fact that it was going too fast to stop for the light where I was stopped. Much too fast.

But the driver tried to stop anyway, resulting in the entire truck veering to one side, then proceeding down the road, sideways. So, I was about to be rear-ended by this truck, or rather, the truck's side. If I was lucky, only the top of my car would be sheared off as the truck slid over my car.

Have I mentioned that I just finished paying off my car? This is why people keep trying to destroy it.

The light changed, so I drove forward, hoping that my slow acceleration would allow the truck enough time not to kill me, and I was RIGHT. The truck corrected and proceeded behind me at a safe distance, and I met Rachael and we ate BLTs. This was much better than being subjected to the jaws of life.

And now, I have the extreme pleasure of driving home on the questionable roads this evening. I am planning on a night covered in the heating blanket I got for Christmas, and maybe even a cup of hot chocolate before bed. If I survive the drive, that is. Wish me luck.

And here is my favorite snow-driving video, for entertainment purposes. I was not driving any of the cars in this video.




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6 comments:

  1. That video is scary. Glad you survived your drive to a BLT, and Hope you made it home safely.

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    Replies
    1. A BLT might be worth a near-death experience, but I would still prefer to have one without thinking I am about to be crushed.

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  2. Replies
    1. I am working very hard to prevent my death, Kate. Promise.

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  3. TWO cups of hot chocolate. For SURE.

    Food and yarn heal all. So sorry for the trauma.

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