It has been pouring rain here since yesterday evening. It might not be noteworthy to some, but around here it's been a while since we've had more than a sprinkle. So understandably, I couldn't resist splash'n the puddles this morning - with my Mom's SUV. They were more like small lakes, really. I had thought about taking my car as it hydroplanes so nicely - it's a lot of fun. But since my parents will be back tonight, I thought I should take full advantage of the perks of taking care of their house, yard (which is HUGE), cat and two horses. Oh, and also their neighbor's place for a weekend (on occasion, I'm a bit of a push-over).
I miss my SUV (except when I fuel up), many times I have kicked myself for trading it in for the car. I mean, my car does have some fun features. For example: the sleek sporty look, and the sweet little 4 cylinder, twin cam that can take you for a surprisingly hair-raising ride. Of course, neither of these features are lost on my insurance company - or the state patrol.
However, I get a little misty-eyed when I see a SUV, jeep or truck completely covered with mud. Or when I pass a muddy field just begging to be tore up. Or when I purchase "assembly required" furniture that comes in a big, 300 lb box, and the certified team-lifting, cart driving professional looks at me after seeing which vehicle is mine and says, "Are you crazy lady?"
**WARNING: beginning of rant**
Those guys have no sense of humor, at least not the ones I've met. And maybe I would not have been such a smart ass, if he hadn't given me a lecture on the importance of team-lifting before he called for "back-up" on his walkie. As a veteran of Retail, I understand the mental and physical stress the job can have, and am sympathetic when I realize a cashier is having a bad day, or it's their first day and they've rang up 1,111 boxes of tampons when I wanted 1 box. Or when you ask a stocker coming off the night shift where something is, and they look at you like you just demanded the for cure for cancer. However, wasting my time by being an idiot, is a different story.
So after Mr. I'm-so-cool-cuz-I-have-a-back-support, finished reciting a good portion of the safety & hazards manual, (I'm glad he skipped over "What to do when a "guest" pukes in the isle" section) I asked if a person needed an associate or a bachelor's degree to be a certified team-lifter. Or, if it was difficult to break into the field (yes, I really did ask). Needless to say, my sarcasm was lost on him. This happens to me a lot, though... In all fairness, I should provide the fact that he caught me starting to place the item on the sacred, employee only, flatbed cart.
However, when I innocently replied to his question of whether or not I should be on meds for my sanity challenged mind (jury is still out on that one) with, "You'd be surprised what you can fit in my trunk" THEN he laughed. Pervert. The truth is, after folding down the back seats, you can put a lot of crap in there (my car - sicko).
And I happen to know the dimensions of the "cargo space" (almost most peed my pants laughing after reading that, and the "towing capacity" in the owner's manual) of my car. This knowledge - of the cargo space, not the towing capacity - is helpful in determining if I need to bribe one of my truck-owning friends. Usually, this is a simple task that requires purchasing beer or food, or both depending on the item needing to be hauled, and team-carried into my house.
Well, it seems the sun has come out. Bye-bye puddles. Oh well... But wait - that field will still be nice a gooey at lunch - just kidding Mom! Sorta...
**Note: the Willys Jeep in the pic belongs to a guy named Chris Olsen. I came upon his site while doing a "What I would buy if I won the lottery" search. Check it out at: http://www.bc4x4.com/tech/fv/2000/colson/colson.asp