Welcome to my world.
I have done a number of dumb things in my life. There appear to be some idiots laws involved, not unlike and often including Murphy’s law… which I am sure you know. “If something can go wrong, it will.” I have my own little amendment to that famous law… “When something goes wrong, there is always a witness.” Another of my favorite idiot’s laws is the “Wrong me once, shame on you! Wrong me twice, shame on me!” But I skip the first part and just call it the “Sham on me!” law. We seem to be constant partners. Want another one? “The more ridiculous the situation, the more likely I am involved.”
My stuffy grandmother used to call them “common sense” laws and had no trouble pointing out that I seemed to have a loss of common sense and her disappointment that I failed to use my excellent brain. Her favorite law for me was the “Look before you leap!” law. I do look. But I also have a grand capacity to ignore the little voice in my head when I want something. Though that little voice is loud, it says “Warning… you are about to do something stupid!” So even my little voice knows better than to think I might use my common sense and walk away.
Allow me to give you a prime and recent example. As you know, I have been involved in a torrent of car disasters… leaving me dependent on the kindness of others. I loath having to depend on other people and imposing my troubles on them. I’m old enough to remember wearing my skate key on a string around my neck night and day. I should be old enough to solve my own troubles. If only I didn’t created those troubles too!
So one car died and is living at DH’s house. Lovely. The other is up on blocks without a clutch. Very rural Oregonian looking… a car on blocks in your yard. Things are bad because everything here that you require is in one town or another to the right or the left. You cannot walk there to get it. At least not without a good pack and a sleeping bag. Another important point is that it RAINS here all the time and that plays havoc with a simple stroll to the local over priced market where you can spend twice as much and get half as much as if you did have a car to get to the next town over. It is a royal pain.
Desperation and impatience set in. There should be a word, a term for the type of claustrophobia of living carless in a tiny town in the middle of not much of anywhere. Here’s another law… “If you have to get a ride to the market, you will forget the toilet paper… or the clerk will leave something out of your bag.” All I can say is many blessings on the head of Rocket J. Squirrel for driving this Bullwinkle around for the last few weeks and having the sense of humor to answer his phone cheerfully with “B’s taxi! Where are we going this time?” and for his attempt to keep me from doing the very dumb thing I did last weekend. He even felt bad for me after… a kind man.
Okay… I’ve set it all up and too many words are in this post already. Stay tuned… Bullwinkle is jumping out of the airplane with Boris’s faulty shute… how will she escape this new peril? And how the heck did she get into whatever mess it was anyway? Tomorrow the event and the conclusion.
There is nothing like a good Boris in this world to make life interesting.