Stuff in the Road
We have potholes in the roads here in Kentucky.
Now, I realize this isn't really news, if you're from Michigan. In fact, true news would be something along these lines:
"Y'all, there's road here among the potholes! Actual honest-to-goodness road!"
But down here in Kentucky, for this Michigan girl, there really aren't potholes in the roads to speak of.
So, you can imagine my surprise ... how flabbergasted I was when, the other day, I had to dodge not one, not two, but three sizable potholes.
Yes, I realize that, again, this is nothing compared to the washboard effect that your pitiful, poorly aligned cars back in the "north country" must endure for the great majority of a year, but to be honest, I'd almost forgotten what a pothole was!
I did remember last July, when I hit my parents' road, during a visit back home ... and my teeth nearly rattled out of my head as I bumped along my way.
I was all, "Oh yeah! Potholes. I remember these. I remember I didn't like them."
I mean, for the most part, my truck has been in alignment for nearly six years. Back home, that alignment you spent a pretty penny or two (or eight) on lasts all of six minutes.
So, the pothole ... yeah, the first one, I completely hit ... I wasn't expecting it. I mean, I saw it. I saw its ugly, gaping blackness, but since it's been so long since I've seen a real live one, my reaction time was delayed, and I hit it going a full 35 miles an hour, a sure sign the alignment is heading south quickly.
But here's the sad detail of the story. The part that gets really pitiful. I've hit this same pothole three times since then.
Apparently, my learning curve has flattened a bit, living down here in the land of mild winters and eight months of mowing season.
And speaking of a mowing season, I fear it's inching ever closer. I discovered a dandelion in my yard the other day. This might explain why some young kid from WEED MAN showed up at my door yesterday, wanting to know if I'd like a free weed and grass consultation.
Nope. I wouldn't. I am not interested in solicitations. Thank you.
But I am not soliciting, ma'am. I just want to give you a free consultation.
See, this is where kids these days need to get their heads out of the video game screens and into a dictionary, because I am pretty sure that offering a free consultation is soliciting something from me, and I've already told this joker two times that I am not interested.
I was so busy saying no thank you over and over again, that it didn't occur to me until after he left that what I should have said was, "Listen! I like my weeds and would hate to spend all that money to get rid of them!"
Filing that little gem away for the future, yes I am.
Now, I realize this isn't really news, if you're from Michigan. In fact, true news would be something along these lines:
"Y'all, there's road here among the potholes! Actual honest-to-goodness road!"
But down here in Kentucky, for this Michigan girl, there really aren't potholes in the roads to speak of.
So, you can imagine my surprise ... how flabbergasted I was when, the other day, I had to dodge not one, not two, but three sizable potholes.
Yes, I realize that, again, this is nothing compared to the washboard effect that your pitiful, poorly aligned cars back in the "north country" must endure for the great majority of a year, but to be honest, I'd almost forgotten what a pothole was!
I did remember last July, when I hit my parents' road, during a visit back home ... and my teeth nearly rattled out of my head as I bumped along my way.
I was all, "Oh yeah! Potholes. I remember these. I remember I didn't like them."
I mean, for the most part, my truck has been in alignment for nearly six years. Back home, that alignment you spent a pretty penny or two (or eight) on lasts all of six minutes.
So, the pothole ... yeah, the first one, I completely hit ... I wasn't expecting it. I mean, I saw it. I saw its ugly, gaping blackness, but since it's been so long since I've seen a real live one, my reaction time was delayed, and I hit it going a full 35 miles an hour, a sure sign the alignment is heading south quickly.
But here's the sad detail of the story. The part that gets really pitiful. I've hit this same pothole three times since then.
Apparently, my learning curve has flattened a bit, living down here in the land of mild winters and eight months of mowing season.
And speaking of a mowing season, I fear it's inching ever closer. I discovered a dandelion in my yard the other day. This might explain why some young kid from WEED MAN showed up at my door yesterday, wanting to know if I'd like a free weed and grass consultation.
Nope. I wouldn't. I am not interested in solicitations. Thank you.
But I am not soliciting, ma'am. I just want to give you a free consultation.
See, this is where kids these days need to get their heads out of the video game screens and into a dictionary, because I am pretty sure that offering a free consultation is soliciting something from me, and I've already told this joker two times that I am not interested.
I was so busy saying no thank you over and over again, that it didn't occur to me until after he left that what I should have said was, "Listen! I like my weeds and would hate to spend all that money to get rid of them!"
Filing that little gem away for the future, yes I am.
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