The Money Pit

How could I stay in my Zen Zone in front of the roaring(gas) fire with my gripping mystery book when the phone rang to tell us that our little blue pick-up was in a ditch twenty minutes away? So, instead of a relaxing Sunday night, Mr. Stargazer and I rushed away in our separate vehicles--him thinking he could tow the truck out with his van, and me wondering if the pick-up was even drivable. (he couldn't, and it wasn't) Everyone was fine, except the truck itself, the brand-new cell phone floating in the ditch water, and the soggy digital camera. I shouldn't think this was hilarious, but my very capable husband pulled off the road onto the shoulder, which was much softer ground than he thought. As I watched in horror, his fully loaded work van slid, and tipped--right into the ditch on the other side of the road. I remember thinking: This just CAN'T be happening! Then I laughed. Thankfully, a middle-aged couple had waited there until we arrived, and not too long after, we saw the lights of the police SUV. A certain teenage girl in this household was fortunate to only get a lecture, and not a ticket. The policewoman just happened to be a 1995 graduate of my high school, so we reminisced about teachers, administrators, and her former  volleyball coach. (high school and collegiate player--at U of Oregon, quack, quack) Then we happened to mention that one of my husband's classmates works for the county sheriff, and he turned out to be her sergeant. The adage about a small world can be quite true. Finally, the tow truck came to winch out the pick-up, AND the work van, then haul the truck to the mechanic. I don't know that I want to know the price tag to fix it...But no one in the family yelled at each other; we were supportive, when not laughing at our ridiculous predicament. Even College Daughter had to call up her dad to ask about "the interesting van parking." As for the non-adventurous part of our lives, I can't really discuss how sports are going around here, because that's a touchy subject. At school, I did have my talk with 5th period about their treatment of each other; it is quite rare to be able to express exactly how I think and feel to a class of 40+. But the words flowed, and they felt right; I even saw a couple of the guilty students drop their heads, and look ashamed. Since they are teenagers, it could all be an act, but I would rather believe that my message got through. Otherwise, it would be difficult for me to get up and go to work every day. I need my illusions.