The day started early.
Before sunrise, sometime around o’dark thirty, we awoke to the sound of a car in need of exhaust work revving its engine, dying and starting up again. Then we heard the loud stream-of-consciousness yelling.
“That’s not good.”
More engine revving.
“Now I’m in trouble.”
“Oh, now what do I do?”
I looked out he window and saw the guy who delivers the Sunday paper with his car teetered between the steep ditch and road. I looked at Linda and knew it was a job for me. “You stay in bed, I’ll handle this one.” Better to have someone able to call 911 when the crazy guy who almost rolled his car in the ditch go ballistic on me.
I went out to survey the situation and knew what would need to happen. It was nothing a chain and tractor couldn’t handle. I went out and greeted him.
“Glad I didn’t wake you up.” He said.
“I was just getting up to empty the bladder, you didn’t wake me up.” “Looks like we’ll need the tractor and chain,” I said, and started walking back to the shed.
All the way back to the shed and until the roar of the tractor starting in the dark shed, I heard him stand on the road and tell the details of his predicament and how it came to be. I’m sure Linda and the neighbors down the road heard every word.
It’s always a bit dicey getting a car out of the ditch with a chain and avoiding a roll, but he was more than willing to take the chance. The front a back lights on the tractor were a nice bonus as morning’s first light found us. I got him pulled out and told him to stop and help someone else further down the road sometime.
Then it was off to Ames, where Linda was the guest minister at the Unitarian Fellowship of Ames. Last week she did the same thing in Des Moines.
As usual, her message was well-received, even gathering a rather rare immediate applause upon conclusion.