ON THE PERILS OF LACKING THE CONFIDENCE TO DRIVE BACKWARDS ON OUR 2-WAY ROAD THAT'S BARELY WIDE ENOUGH FOR ONE CAR
Perils? What perils? What could happen to a reluctant designated driver who gets palpitations at the idea of having to back up en route to home after her husband with the pinched nerve got his last pain shot? Well, she could run into her best friend coming from the opposite direction on a piece of bumpy, curvy road barely wide enough for one car, and bordered on both sides by deep ditches.
Here's the situation. With J laid up and relegated to passenger-navigator/cheerleader status, that left me in the driver seat. So with him coaching me to "just stay on the road, dammit," when we saw another car approaching, he advised me as usual to stop and wait for the OTHER person to back up.
As I dutifully stood my ground and came to a halt, I was thinking how unfortunate it was for that other person to be caught in such a dilemma at such a spot. Then when I recognized my friend P at the wheel of the other car, I felt extra bad.
But P has more courage in her left thumb than I'll ever have anywhere. At first, like anyone else who drives our dusty road, she couldn't see out her back window. Undaunted, P hopped out of her car, glanced at the surrounding ditches, and did her best to wipe the window enough to get a glimpse of what was back there. Next, despite the burning rubber and smoke coming out of her wheels, she managed to back up enough to let me pass.
I know she'll forgive me, but even so...
Maybe in my next life I will learn how to back up and NOT fall into a ditch. If you read my post from March 2011,
you already heard me say that "to reach down INTO a ditch is better than getting stuck in one."
But on the positive side, I need to remind myself that despite the demoralization of having to be pulled out of a ditch by my contadino neighbor, the silver lining was that I made a new friend who turned out to be related to an old friend. This is part of the beauty of living in the countryside.
As for dealing with our perpetually "guasto" road, I'll be glad when J is back in the driver's seat. Greyhound Bus Lines in America has a great advertising slogan: "Leave the driving to us!" If only!!!
Here's the situation. With J laid up and relegated to passenger-navigator/cheerleader status, that left me in the driver seat. So with him coaching me to "just stay on the road, dammit," when we saw another car approaching, he advised me as usual to stop and wait for the OTHER person to back up.
As I dutifully stood my ground and came to a halt, I was thinking how unfortunate it was for that other person to be caught in such a dilemma at such a spot. Then when I recognized my friend P at the wheel of the other car, I felt extra bad.
But P has more courage in her left thumb than I'll ever have anywhere. At first, like anyone else who drives our dusty road, she couldn't see out her back window. Undaunted, P hopped out of her car, glanced at the surrounding ditches, and did her best to wipe the window enough to get a glimpse of what was back there. Next, despite the burning rubber and smoke coming out of her wheels, she managed to back up enough to let me pass.
I know she'll forgive me, but even so...
Maybe in my next life I will learn how to back up and NOT fall into a ditch. If you read my post from March 2011,
you already heard me say that "to reach down INTO a ditch is better than getting stuck in one."
But on the positive side, I need to remind myself that despite the demoralization of having to be pulled out of a ditch by my contadino neighbor, the silver lining was that I made a new friend who turned out to be related to an old friend. This is part of the beauty of living in the countryside.
As for dealing with our perpetually "guasto" road, I'll be glad when J is back in the driver's seat. Greyhound Bus Lines in America has a great advertising slogan: "Leave the driving to us!" If only!!!
YOU might be overwhelmed by your garden, but your vegetables look like they're VERY happy with whatever you're doing (or not doing).
ReplyDelete