Mrs. Trusty

         The time had come. It was a bittersweet day in December that I finally said goodbye to Mrs. Rusty. She is still alive, the dear soul, but her ability to stay in the center of the road was becoming questionable.

Mrs. Rusty

I have said farewell to her, and she is now in old folks care: sitting in the driveway at Mom and Dad’s. Her faded blue suit and crotchety old cackle will be missed. Her loud, roaring, constant farts will not.

                 I met Mrs. Trusty on a cold blustery day. She was well groomed, and besides a scar on her forehead, there were no blemishes or skin spots anywhere. She isn’t super young, but she isn’t an old granny yet either. I took her home, and she now has the honor of carrying my hide to wherever I need to go.

Mrs. Trusty

∞∞∞

                Today is a really frigid day, one of those days where you feel like you might as well be in Antarctica, since the whether isn’t any different. The snow banks are huge, the roads are pure white and slick, the skies are a greyish white, and the air is filled with blustering white snow. Basically if you were to go outside and paint a picture of the outdoors, the only color paint you would need is white. Maybe I’ll get a white canvas, do nothing to it and call it Winter. It’d be really modern…you know, like those paintings that are just a red line or dot that are supposed to display emotion.

                Whatever. Back to the topic.

                I am coming back from town with Mrs. Trusty, when the person in front of me slams on their breaks. I do have some room in front of me, but I must’ve hit an icy spot as I press my own breaks. What do you know; Mrs. Trusty decides to do a half ballet twirl, and spins slowly to the right. Thankfully she doesn’t shmuck anyone and no one shmucks us (though it is close—sorry Green Bean).

Green Bean

                

                So now that I find myself sitting in the opposite lane with the probability of a car coming to give a crunchy face smooch, I decide that maybe I should get off the road pronto. My only choice of escape is to go up the hill right next to Hardee’s (since I’m positioned right beside its scrubby neighbor—a bar—on its left.)

                Of course the road isn’t plowed properly. What’s the point of plowing the roads in the U.P. if they’re just going to get covered in snow again, right? So the going is tough—and only wide enough for one car. This becomes an evident problem when an SUV starts coming toward me from the opposite direction, with no intention of stopping to let me get by.

                I pull over closer to the side like the good little Samaritan I am, and slow down. (By the way, slowing down in snow = Get Stuck.) The 4 wheel drive SUV—which is going down the hill—passes by. Of course it’s a Sherriff. I hope he goes and arrests himself after that, because he sure didn’t make things easier for me at all.

I continue my attempt to chug up the hill. No such luck.

                When I press the gas to go forward, I slide backwards. I try again. Whoop-dee-doo, I start to descend down the hill like Jack and Jill. Only picture them going backwards down the hill—in the winter.

Ok, sweet, I think. My back window is all fogged up, so it’s up to my incredible intuition and ESP to guide me.

I make it down the hill, manage to turn around like a blind beetle lying on its back, and then pull correctly onto the road and wait at the stop sign. And breathe. And wait some more.

When my heart beat reduces from 65 beats per second to a suitable speed, I pull out onto the road and continue my journey home.

Nope, I decide. I don’t need to get gas today. I don’t need to go to the bank, and I don’t need to do anything but get home and strangle some pillows. Thank goodness and good golly Jehoshaphat I have lots of those!

And so it went. I am just glad Mrs. Trusty is just as shiny and trusty as ever.

Love, 
Linnaia