Yesterday morning, I started out from Charlotte to Richmond to see my friend Pat. I got a little bit of a later start than I’d planned because I wanted to finish up a little project to take up to her. However, I still felt I had a good chance of being able to see her while she was awake.
WRONG!
On the near side of the NC/VA border, right in between no and where, I swerved to avoid a giant piece of metal in the road. As you may have guessed from the picture to the right, I didn’t swerve far enough. I zipped along for another half mile or so before the telltale “kathunkathunkathunk” sound alerted me to the fact that something was up. Yep. Flat tire.
Let me tell you, those lug nuts were superglued on there. I saw my hopes of making it to Richmond at all start to go up in smoke. But kindness and generosity are not dead! For lo! A trucker stopped! And not just any trucker, but a trucker with a can of WD-40!
It didn’t look like he was going to be able to get the tire off either, but this guy just would not give up. With a burst of strength that would put the Hulk to shame, he muscled the last two lug nuts off. YAY! He got the doughnut on for me, reminded me that it was only rated for about 50 miles per hour (which is good, because I’d forgotten) and let me know which exit to take to find a mechanic.
Things I know about this trucker: he’s from Hickory, where he lives with his two daughters and his wife, who has fibromyalgia. He was driving from Winston Salem to southern New Jersey, a destination he had to make by morning. He was hauling empty bottles up to the Arizona tea company.
Things I don’t know about this trucker: his name. Thank you, anonymous good Samaritan.
So I crept slowly up the highway to exit 12 on the other side of the VA border. The service station there did indeed have a tire for me.
Them: You want that new or used?
Me: As long as it rolls, I’m okay with it.
Them: Okay, used it is. I guess we’ll getcha one of them round-shaped tires, then.
Heh. I passed the time petting the gas station kittens, which they tried very, very hard to foist off on me. The lure of “free kitten with every tire” didn’t work on me. The mechanic joked, “I keep saying, if we just start putting ’em in people’s cars, they’ll get attached to ’em and keep ’em!” I promised to pass along that they had free kittens, which these brusque guys have gotten their shots, litterbox trained, and named. So I’m passing it along. There are very sweet free kittens at the garage off of exit 12 in South Hill, VA.
I called who said that Pat was sleeping now. Well, at least I would still be able to sign her book. I got in to Richmond after dark and went up to Pat’s room. She was indeed asleep, but I wrote her a note.
I also left her a little something. Pat gave me some roving on our trip to Raleigh last summer. I had dyed it and spun some of it up. And so, knitting straight from the bobbin, I made a small gift for her from the gift she’d given me. I attached it to her book. I hope she’ll like it. At the risk of being corny, there’s a lot of love in that heart.
When Emily was a toddler, she loved Clementine oranges. Couldn’t get enough. I had to limit them or she’d get diaper rash from all the acid. Somewhere down the line, though, she stopped eating them. As she’s gotten older, her diet has gotten more and more limited. I’m working to reverse that. And so, I pull a page from the Mom Trick Book. It’s called “Food that looks like stuff.”
