Crash

While I was talking to Mom (sharing the big news) I heard a terrible sound--the sound of a vehicle smashing into something. We live on a very bad, blind almost-180-degree curve and there have been lots of accidents.

I put the phone in my purse (with my camera), grabbed a bottle of water, and Zippy and I climbed the ridge to scout things out. It probably wasn't wise since I've had some kind of flu for a couple of days, but you don't hear a sound like that and not check it out.

I couldn't see anything from the top of the ridge, so we slid down to the driveway and walked to the road. Somewhere between the top of the ridge and the driveway the phone fell out of my purse. Oh well. I don't feel well enough to climb back up to look for it. It wasn't the cell phone; we don't have any service here anyway. I'd brought the phone in case I needed to call 911. While I was out climbing, Tom's daughter had called, so the house phone signal reached that far.

Sadly, a bunch of people from the DC area were out motorcycling the area and one had somehow lost control and flipped over the guardrail and way down the hill. He was caught against a cedar tree; his bike was not in sight. It must have continued way on down; the state trooper was climbing around taking photos. There were two rescue squads with paramedics working on the poor man; they'd gotten bags of ice around him (I couldn't see if it was his head or feet, but there was lots of blood) and were talking to him, finding out if he had any medical conditions, what prescriptions he took, had he lost consciousness. He said he hadn't; if it were me, I'd have been out and not planning to wake up any time soon. He was in great pain.

His friend stood next to me and told the story. They'd stopped in town less than a mile away and eaten pizza, then got back on their bikes to continue the trip. He said that as he came around the bend, he could see dust everywhere, then realized that his friend had wrecked. Poor guy could hardly talk. The injured cyclist's helmut was halfway down the hill; I don't know if it had come off or if the paramedics had tossed it there. They were strapping him to a backboard when I left. (The state trooper shooed us away.)

I hope that the poor man is okay. I can still hear bangs and crashes from that area; our driveway is dead in the middle of that awful curve, and the two ridges funnel the sounds right up to the house. People are still talking. I haven't heard the rescue squad leave yet.

That's the first accident there that I've actually "witnessed". About a year ago, a man hit a bear just around the corner, but we weren't home. Took out the bear, and the man wasn't expected to walk again. His son was just bruised, but evidentally the man wasn't wearing his seat belt and was thrown out. He's actually doing well now, still wearing braces, but he's walking.

So, is it worth it for me to go back out and look for the phone? No, I didn't think so either.

I'm lazy

Or maybe I should be kind to myself and say I've been unmotivated to blog.

Nah. Lazy is the correct word.

Let's see what I've actually done in the last week:

1) Spent a couple of days online comparing cell phones and plans. I am done with Ntelos and their non-customer-service service. I've finally decided on a Blackberry Bold, whatever that is. It seems to have good customer reviews and it can be tethered (through AT&T) to my laptop (for an extra $60 a month) when we travel, and I don't have to keep that tethering for a two-year contract. The monthly plan includes unlimited internet access with the phone and--the big draw, besides being able to access the internet with the laptop when desired--Geez. I got interrupted and I cannot remember what the big draw is. *sigh* Oh yeah, AT&T's minutes roll over if they're not used. I rarely use even 200 minutes a month, and my current plan is for 600 minutes, and if they're not used, they're gone. Forevah. The new plan will include 450 minutes, which will be more than plenty.

2) Read a lot. I finished Stephenie Meyer's The Host. It was really really difficult to get interested in it, but after trying several times (and having nothing else within reach that I wanted to read) I finally got into it. It's an unusual story that I won't even try to explain. It's defintely not Twilight (many would say that's a good thing).

3) I won a contest! Barbara Bretton (if I were at my own desk I could link you, but I'm not so I won't; you can google her name and find her website) chose me as one of her winners and sent me two signed books. One is her last one, Casting Spells, which is about a town of--get this--vampires, werewolves, fairies, and all kinds of supernatural beings (there's even a screaming banshee) and the half-human owner of the best yarn shop in New England for two years running. What could be more appropriate for me to read after being caught in Twilight's spell? I've only read the first few chapters, but it's a light-hearted, fun book. The second in the series (this woman has written tons of books) is due out in June and is about the same town and people and knitting store. I'm looking forward to it.

The second book is Just Desserts, which sounded so familiar, because I already own it, but written by someone else. I guess there's no copyright on titles.

Barbara has several websites, one of which is this one; I think another one is here. You know my memory. I hope that you'll check her, and her books, out. Free books are one of the ways to my heart!

(Hmmmm. It looks like those links will work; if not, blame my brain.)

3) What else have I done. Oh yes, we went to my oldest grandson's first race on Saturday night. First race driving with the big boys, that is. He's 9, the youngest ever to race at that track. One man in his class is 66--how he got into that tiny car is beyond me.

B is an impressive young man. He's been driving in go-cart races since he was maybe 5, and he's quite good. He's done well practicing with the older guys. Fortunately we got there a little too late for his qualifying run; I called my son when we pulled into the parking lot to see where we were supposed to go, and B's brakeline had failed. Failed. As in no brakes. He's 9 years old. What did he do? He calmly zig-zagged around a few cars and aimed the car into the grass, where it stopped on its own.

I would have freaked (both as the driver and the grandmother watching this happen). K said it scared the piss out of him. My boy is eloquent, like him momma. But not B. He handled it well and moved on. I'd still be shaking if I'd done that.

Also, when they first got to the race track, his car wouldn't start. No problems during the practices, but on race day, they came in multiples. They got it going again, then the brakeline blew out.

So the races started (and, thank you, God) it was the first race of the evening. 25 laps, approximately 23 seconds per lap. B started out in the back of the pack since it was his first race, but by the time his clutch burned up on the second lap, he had moved up two spots.

I mean, poor kid! He very calmly aimed the car into the pit area and talked over his headset (this is like professional racing, with full burn-proof gear, the works) to his dad who told him to stay in the car until he could get over to him. B was devastated, but he didn't show it other than being very subdued.

It was just as well that he didn't finish the race; the whole thing was under the yellow flag except for a lap or two, with one car spinning into the wall and the rescue squad and wrecker heading out on the track; fortunately the guy was okay; then the race was called five laps early because it was starting to rain.

We left after B and his mom and dad came back over to the grandstand (and after paying $30 to spend an hour or two there, but some things you do because it's your grandkid even though it scares the crap out of you). Let's just say that I'm not a racing fan. My ex, the bastard, loved racing, and the last one he took me to (over 20 years ago) he told me how "disappointed" he was that he'd gone to the trouble of taking me out and all I did was sit there and read. Instead of being grateful that I'd agreed to go to something that bores me to tears, he was "disappointed". Well, guess who took a book and read this time? Tom, that's who, while I knitted. So HA!

(Yes, I'm childish and vindictive and still hold quite a grudge, thankyouverymuch.)

4) Then Sunday it was pretty and sunny and I spent some quality time in the sun. Ahhh, the warmth of the sun. I know it's not good for the ol' skin and I'm looking like my grandmother much sooner than I think I should, but it's something that I crave.

5) I'm turning the heel of my second Buckeyes/Eclipse sock. I'm loving the yarn.

6) One of my prescriptions finally showed up today. One. There are two or three more that haven't arrived.

As you can see, I've been terribly productive lately. And interesting.

I need to get a life.

Going public

Okay, people, this is it. This can go on no longer.

No more buttered popcorn. I weigh more than I've ever weighed, and I don't like it. I bought a cute pair of shoes last week that have buckles, and I almost cannot reach around my gut to buckle them.

So, in front of God and you guys, I'm vowing to lose weight. 30 pounds. Then I'll look at "things" and rethink it all. By the end of the year. (I vowed in January--not a resolution, since I don't keep those hahahahahahahahaha!--that I'd lose 24 pounds by July. That's only 4 pounds a month, totally doable, but only if you don't sink into a deep dark pit that's only scaled by mounds of buttered popcorn and lots of medications.)

I just weighed myself here at school (my skinny boss keeps them here, damn her skinny ass) and it's appalling. I'll write down the amount and hide it in my desk drawer, and I'll keep track of it and share it with you (if it happens. Yeah, yeah, think positively and all that.) I'd post a photo but it would scare the children and animals.

So, keep me on my toes, will you? I'll need all the help I can get.

Mothertrucker

The roads were wet last night as we headed home around 6 p.m. It's about a 30-mile drive over a two-lane road through a national forest along a river, gorgeous in daylight no matter what time of year it is. After dark, though, it's just a two-lane road that we have to drive twice a day; this time of year, both drives are in the dark.

We were behind a couple of slower vehicles, not unusual in this part of the county. There are three nice long straight stretches, though, where it's usually easy to pass someone who wants to take his/her time. Last night we passed these slower vehicles, legally, I might add, on the broken line, with no oncoming cars in sight. Those are much easier to see at night (as long as they have their lights on, of course).

At that first straight stretch, after we passed the cars and were back in our own lane, the passing lane ended. There was a car coming toward us in the other lane. So, naturally, the tractor-trailer that suddenly appeared behind us, bearing down on us at about 80 mph (the speed limit is 55) decided that it was the perfect time to pass us. On the solid, non-passing-lane line. With a car rapidly heading toward us.

Tom could see that the truck couldn't possibly safely pass us and get back in the right-hand lane before the car hit it, but the trucker didn't care. Horn blaring, he sped up and continued to try to pass us. With a car rapidly heading toward us. Tom sped up so the truck could get back into the lane behind us before he hit the car head-on. Mr. Big Trucker didn't appreciate the gesture; he swerved behind us and turned on his high-beams, sped up, and stayed right on our tail for several miles until we hit the mountain. (Not literally, of course.) Several times he tried to pass us, but by that time we were both kind of irritated with him (I was much more irritated than Tom, and much more vocal. And louder.) and didn't allow him to do so.

The trailer must have been empty, because I figured that we'd lose him after the first or second curve on the mountain. Those curves are short and sharp on the Virginia side. Trucks (and cars) have to slow down.

Nope. Mr. Big Trucker was right on our tail halfway up that mountain, full-beams on the whole way. I'm proud to admit that I flipped him the bird.

I was almost hoping he'd pass us illegally so I could get his license number and any identifying marks on the truck. At that point it occurred to me that he had plenty of time to memorize our license, too. Whoops.

On the West Virginia side of the mountain, just over the top, there's a pull-over for trucks. All trucks are required to stop there to check their brakes (evidentally Virginia isn't as interested in her drivers'/passengers' safety, as there isn't anything like that on that side), and often slower cars will pull over to allow more impatient drivers to pass, even though farther down the mountain there are a couple of legal passing lanes.

Last night we left Mr. Big Truck behind before we could see if he stopped to check those brakes which he obviously hadn't used too much on the way up. I'm betting he didn't stop. But there was a small car in the pull-over area, inside light on, doing something, trying to find something, I don't know. But it took so long for Mr. Big Truck's lights to appear on the WV side that I'm thinking that Mr. Little Car pulled out before he came around the curve, slowing him down. Because driving down a mountain certainly wouldn't have slowed him down any.

Didn't matter. As soon as he could, he passed the car and the milk truck that was ahead of us, which meant that Mr. Big Trucker was right behind us when we pulled into our driveway in the middle of a sharp, long curve a couple of miles (by road) from the bottom of the mountain. He barely slowed down.

Mothertrucker.

I didn't do it, and the bear is okay.

So this is how our week (June 3 - 9) was.


1) I was sick all weekend, really sick. I missed work Friday and Monday, thereby using up all the sick leave I'm allowed for the year. (We can bank days, but I used them all up anyway.) Bronchitis, sinus infection, fluid behind the eardrums.

2) Tom went to Richmond for the press conference announcing a reward for information leading to etc. in his brother's murder case. They got a lot of tv coverage, even in our area, and are hopeful that it's enough money to make someone think about turning in his "buddy".

3) I took Zippy outside that afternoon off-leash. He does very well when he's with Tom, but he tends to ignore me. I walked around and looked at flowers and he disappeared. About 15 minutes later he came tearing back. I didn't even notice that he'd rolled in something, but it must have been pretty good, because he was coated with some incredibly stinky goo.

4) Tom came in. I still hadn't noticed Zip's new hairdo (nice and spiky) and immediately noted the fragrance. Evidentally it was pretty rank. I stuck the dog in the tub (still running a 100+ fever, feeling really rotten) and it took about 10 minutes to get all the "stuff" off him. The water ran brown the entire time. I scrubbed him as best I could, still not smelling a thing, so I guess it was good that I'm the one who washed him.

5) Tom can still smell the stink. I'm just starting to be able to get a tiny notion of what it was, but his nose is working. Seems that Zippy had rolled on the carpet after his roll outside, so the stink is permanently with us. Febreze has not touched it. UPDATE: Tom gave Zippy a bath this past weekend and reports that Zip is much more pleasant to be around now.

6) I have cell phone service with NTELOS, which is evidentally a Virginia-pretty-much-only company. They don't put much value on customer service. I've been with them for at least six years. I've been fighting them since I changed my plan at the end of March; they never credited me with that month's payment, instead they charged me for the plan I'd had for four years and changed on March 26 to a less-expensive plan. Half the price. I paid the bill in full when I bought my new phone that day.

For the past two months, I've received bills that still didn't reflect the change in rate. I went into the store, disputed the incorrect amount, and waited a week or two. My next bill still didn't show any change, so I called "customer service". The guy there was very helpful and agreed that I didn't owe the extra amount and put in another dispute. The first one was never recorded on my account, so nothing had happened. He said that after March 26, someone had gone into my account and changed it back to the higher plan; he had no explanation for that. He said to wait a couple of weeks and things should be fine. I paid the $50 that I owed and disputed the rest.

Got the bill for this month. It showed a past-due balance of $40. So back to the NTELOS store and another "customer service" rep. They never have the same people in there twice. I don't know if there's a big turnover or just schedules are different, but there's always someone new. I brought my contract, the last bill, and my impressions of it. After an hour of waiting while the cs rep went over my last three months' bills with some guy, I don't know if he was the manager or what, but he never spoke to me. They agreed that I owed the money, that they'd refunded it.

It just didn't sound right to me. I'm really really bad with numbers, but I knew those bills were wrong and they owed me $40 and an apology. However, that didn't happen. We left and I mentioned to Tom that I pay for this service in advance, not after the fact, and somewhere in those bills it should show where that money was refunded. Okay, now he realized what was going on; he thought that it was like a regular phone bill, paid for what I'd used in the last month. So we turned around, he went back in and spent half an hour going over the bills with Mr. Whoeverhewas, and pointed out the mistake. Slowly and painfully. He came out with the printout with Mr. W's signature that the money had been taken off my bill. It took over 2.5 hours to get that straightened out.

Whew. All that for $40. But it gets better.

7) So we were late going home. It was a beautiful evening, first really clear day in ages. We live on the far side of civilization and take a two-lane road 30 miles across the mountain into West Virginia. A few miles from the mountain we rounded a curve and lo and behold, there was a big old black bear running down the center of our lane right toward us. You don't fight a bear with a car and come out in good shape, and we didn't want to hit it, so Tom stood on the brakes. Thank God for ABS. We stopped in time to leave the bear in good health, he scampered on up the cliff by the road, and WHAM. A pickup truck crashed into the back of the car. To his credit, he skidded trying to avoid us, but it pretty much did in the left back end of our car, which we'd just gotten (used) in August to replace the Camry that died in a driveway while we were in Europe.

I jumped out of the car with my camera and started documenting the drama. I've always got my camera with me, and this is twice I've used this one to document an accident.






We waited for the state police to make his way that far off the interstate (fortunately, no one was badly hurt; we both have sore necks; I was twisted around in my seat watching the bear), he interviewed both Tom and the poor boy driving the truck, exchanged insurance info and off we went. The car is driveable, but the alignment is definitely a leetle bit off.

So, who knows. It's a 1999 Camry (and I can't say enough good things about Camrys; this is the third I've had and has over 154,000 miles on it; the last two were comparable), only cost $6000 last August and is possibly totalled. It'll cost thousands to repair, so it might be totalled.

*Sigh* I hate car-shopping.

UPDATE: The car goes in on Wednesday to be appraised or whatever it is they do to wrecked cars. We went to the ER the day after the wreck just to check things out; no damage from the wreck (although Tom's trapezius was in spasm from the crash), but I have arthritis in my neck. Great. And I'm finally feeling much better after the bout with bronchitis, but poor Tom has the crud now.

Talk about quaking.......

The flight from BWI to DFW was uneventful, thank goodness. I read and knit my way there. Tom read and maybe slept.

In Dallas we switched to a jet heading to Belize City. As we travelled, more and more clouds popped up until we were flying through something from a Stephen King novel. As we slowed and dropped for the landing, the fog parted and I got a glimpse of trees. As in very close. As in no runway.

At the time, it just sort of passed through my thick skull that it was odd that there didn't appear to be an airport nearby. Right about then, the pilot pulled up and laid on the fuel. That's about when I started to suspect that we'd had a near-miss, an up-close-and-personal interaction with the jungle.

He got it right on the next pass.

My grandson, the racer

My oldest grandson, B, has a race car that he actually drives in actual races. Scares me to death! Like his daddy, my son, it's in his blood and it's what he likes to do.

This photo is one that I think is just darling. He'd stopped driving (at 30+ mph!!!) around the school's track and of course I aimed my camera at him. Look at that salute. Isn't that precious? And so grown up?




He's only 6 and a half! He's been driving tractors and lawn tractors for years, just like his daddy did. He drives better than I do.

Watch out, NASCAR!