I suppose that adventure is all in how you look at it. I was describing my saturday to a friend, and she said that I always have such adventures to share. That I should write them out. You know, I used to, but the only thing that made them an adventure was by highlighting the rather asinine parts – which EVERY day has. So, with that sort of thinking, I suppose that every day is an adventure, even if we never leave the house. It’s all in how we look at it.
With that in mind, I realize that I could be writing more often and hopefully more interestingly. Life is minutia, and I suppose I forgot that sometimes we like to connect on the stuff that isn’t important but is familiar to all of us. Our worlds have somehow become very small, and I think that connection makes it feel less so.
In truth, I did get out of the house on Saturday. That’s pretty rare, nowadays, so maybe it was more like a real adventure. It started with -5F weather, and our truck not starting. My son needed to change out his queen size bed that was taking up his entire space in his apartment room (shared with 5 other people, so his room is really his only space) with a twin we have.
My husband came inside, stomping his feet like a disgruntled, over-bundled-up bear. “The truck won’t start.” *huff* I asked if it was possible that the battery was just low, maybe a light got left on or something (he’s done that before.) Maybe we should try jumping it? “NO! It’s just too cold! The darn truck just won’t start!!!”
Ten minutes later, I peek out and he’s trying to jump the truck. I know you’ll all be shocked to hear it started. So shocked. Unbelievably shocked. I did get a gruff, if sheepish “…okyouwereright…” as he passed by, and we started loading the bed up. My snickering probably didn’t help, but I feel I was reasonably entitled.
The hour drive up was supposed to be sunny, so we hadn’t covered anything. This, of course, means it started snowing. By the time we got to my son’s apartment, we had to dust off wet snow from the mattress and apologize… or, I would have, except my son came out into the now -3F (weather app said “feels like” temp was -11F) weather in shorts and a thin t-shirt.
This is where I started contemplating the level of brain damage a 20 year old must naturally have. At least he wasn’t barefoot. He didn’t have socks on, mind you, but he had bothered to kinda put shoes on.
Once we had the furniture strapped in we left, and while getting onto the busiest highway in the state the furniture violently shifted and almost toppled out of the truck. That led to us pulled over on the side, with cars and giant semi-trucks whipping by at 65mph+ on black ice covered roads while the truck was left rocking side to side as they passed. I just knew I was sitting in the middle of a cautionary tale meets News at 11.
It was actually pretty scary, but luckily we got moving again. We finally got home, and pulled the truck around so we could move things into the house. Moments after I had stepped up onto the front porch with one side of a mattress, ice came crashing down behind me in huge chunks from the roof!
This was the moment when I decided I was getting into my pajamas and not leaving for the rest of the day. DONE. I was over it! By the time we finally sat down in warm clothes and an agreement to not tempt fate any further this day, my son sent me a text “Mom, the bed is SO SMALL…”
He either has brain damage, or a death wish. Maybe both. (He’ll learn to deal with it. We’re done.)
It felt like a hard day, but in truth we made it all the way up into town and back. We did NOT get hit by anyone on the side of the highway. I did NOT get taken out by ice falling on my head. One could say that I had a rather lucky day, all things considered. Sometimes luck isn’t winning the lottery, but rather NOT getting hit by a truck.
Luck, adventure, what have you. It’s all in your perspective!