9:45 a.m. - 2003-01-09
Truck Stories
That trip up North really fried my brain, especially as concerns writing. I seem to have nothing to say, especially since my brain has been trying to wrap itself around the fact that Bruce and I are about to spring $2800 for a rebuilt truck engine. Yup, 2800 snappers to get the truck running again. Sigh.
A friend of ours put a rebuilt engine in her Ford and claims that after two years it's great and it was the best thing she could have done. Since the truck is basically in great shape, except for the engine, of course, and the windshield, it makes sense to put in a rebuilt.
Ummmm, the windshield. I guess I didn't write about this, but I cracked the windshield a few months ago. I know you all have this image of me wacking the windshield in a fit of hysterical temper, but just because I'm a Scorpio it does not mean that I love the sound of breaking glass!
I cracked it with my foot. So now you have this image of my doing a really acrobatic Bruce Lee type kicking thing! No, actually, we were driving in the country one day, way out in Limestone county where there are more cows than people, and I was happy and relaxed and had my foot up on the dashboard. As I remember I also had on a pair of Daisy Mae shorts and a tank top, too, and I smelled like a Blue Heeler puppy as we had been playing with one not 25 minutes before, but of course, all this is irrelevent.
What is relevent is that I had my foot on the dashboard when a cute little squirrel, obviously reeling from the breakup of his love affair or not being able to find his most recent stash of walnuts, decided to commit suicide by throwing himself under our wheels. At this point three things happened in quick succession:
1. I screamed: "Bruce!! Itsa' squirrel! Itsa' SQUIRREL!!!!!! AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
2. Bruce screamed:"JESUS CHRIST!!" and jammed on the breaks.
3. I screamed: "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" and jammed my foot against the windshield, bracing for impact.
There was a strange and sickening crunching noise as the glass of the windshield formed a sinister spiderweb of cracks under my foot. I had pressed my foot so hard trying to brace myself that I had actually cracked the glass.
So we've been driving around with this little spiderweb, which is actually not so little. Between that and the truck generally needing a paintjob (and for awhile it was actually missing a headlight, too) Bruce looks less like a college professor and more like he ought to be running moonshine with the locals. Though these days it's not moonshine, it's actually marijuana - Alabama's biggest cash crop!!
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In answer to the question I know you all have on your minds: The squirrel made it. He scampered merrily off as Bruce flipped him the finger. "That damn squirrel just cost me $300!!" he moaned.
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