pandemo (pandemo) wrote,


Julie, a good friend of mine, wrote:

Mark has been on 60 hours a week, and I've been having more back issues since I fell down helping him chore:( Mark rolled our Explorer when he fell asleep on the way home from work. He walked away (prayers have been working) but the truck was totaled.

Tell Mark I said to PULL OVER when he's tired! Men!

I've pulled over and slept in roadside parks, empty gas station alley-ways, field entrances, etc. from here to Canada and back. Once (up in Canada) at a rest area, someone came over to be sure I was okay. I'd unloaded a chaise lounge, stuck one leg on Sweetie's leash,and covered myself completely with a sheet to keep the bugs off and was just snoozing away. They were worried because the dog got up and moved, but I didn't. (The spot she was lying had gotten into the sun, so she moved behind the sheet to be where it was a bit cooler.

Oh, and when I put a full load of hay underneath the roof covering the first pumps of an old gas station when a light drizzle hit, a patrolman came and rapped on the truck hood to see what I was doing. (Yeah, I was robbing the place, with my head visible in the corner of the truck. I thought I'd hide out in the driveway.) Then he wanted a bill of sale on the hay.

I didn't have one, but I opened my little green journal and told him the address of the gal whose husband had traded it to me fresh out of his field on account. I had what his wife leased the horse for, how much cash had been paid, and the value of the hay, but he didn't want to believe it, so I flipped to another page and gave him their phone number, how big their house trailer was, the news that they baby was sick, and where the phone was located, and went back to sleep.

It was 3 am in the morning, and if he ever called them, they never said anything about it. I was only 35 miles from home at the time... BUT, when it is time to pull over rather than crash, I PULL OVER.

Once I pulled over at a little park that used to be at the Millerton turn-off... and that's only 10 miles away.

The gal (now dead -- cancer) who used to live in the little house just to the north of me lost her husband, who worked nights in Des Moines someplace, when he got killed by hitting a dear at dawn coming home one time, right after I bought this place.

So, PULL OVER. Please. I hate losing friends...
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