Driveways and the hazards thereof

We all make decisions in our lives that affect positively or negatively. Sometimes we do a good thing that turns out badly. I did that today.

Cory's driveway is steep and I've skidded up it in the winter when it's covered with ice. I've schlepped stuff up it when it's all hot and humid outside. Missionaries have filled the driveway and sung to the family after Hector's death. They've also shoveled 'WE LOVE YOU" in the snow on the grass beside the driveway that is as steep. At one time or another, we've all backed down the driveway, swerving our way down trying not to get on the grass or hit the brick retaining wall. Quintin took a door off when driving down that driveway. I'm sure someone has hit the mail box at one time or another. A goat has even strolled up and tried to eat Cory's flowers, turkeys routinely visit as do deer, squirrels and chipmunks.

Today, I believe I did something that will be hard to beat. I went over to Cory's to let Chester the dog out to go to the loo. Before I went up the driveway I stopped and picked up the mail and reminded myself to get the newspaper that was lying in the driveway when I left.

I let Chester out and had to chase him around the backyard because he raced out before his leash was hooked on the door knob. We played with his shoe in the house for a while until Chester tired out and wanted back in his room with a treat. I obliged and headed out the door.

At the bottom of the driveway I drew as close to the paper as I could, opened my door and reached down to get the paper. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my face with the back wheel of the car missing my left arm and face by centimeters. I was repeatedly yelling, "Oh, my gosh, oh, my gosh!!!" as I watched the car meander across the cul de sac and towards the curb and grass, gully and trees beyond that.

I ran as fast as I could towards the runaway car, terrified that it was going to go straight into the gully and me having to call a tow truck and explain to Kris what an idiot I had been; that I had nearly crashed the car and been run over too.

I managed to thrust my right leg in the car and slammed on the brake just as the car slowed down when it hit a pile of old, dead leaves and tree trunks. Tree trunks is a relative term. The thickest one was maybe eight inches around, there just happened to be several of them together forming a kind of fence. My brain was going nineteen miles to the dozen, prayers shooting up with thanks as fast as I could say them out.

I backed off the grass, thrust the car into drive and shot away, so thankful that nobody saw my act of stupidity except for the angels that helped rescue me. Do you think I'll put the car into park when I have to pick something up out of driveway?

My back hurts. So does my pride.