Even Steven Said There'd Be Days Like This

I left home Tuesday in a cheerful mood, ready to grab the world by the tail. The temperature was 75 degrees, bright and sunny, the smell of dead leaves in the air, and hickory nuts thunking down on T-Hoe's roof as I parked to get the mail.

A dump truck sat by the creek, without a driver. Another dump truck was parked back across the low water bridge. A bright orange sign warning me, if I went up the hill, that there was ROAD WORK and OIL. I could see the workers at the crest of the hill, spreading blacktop, and stinking up the fresh air.

You know what? That didn't even bother me. I got the mail, and hopped back in T-Hoe, narrowly avoiding being concussioned by the hickory nut bombs. Not to worry. I had another route to town. I turned left, and went on my way. At the next stop sign, I tore open what looked like a bill from Farmer H's recent medical tests. Huh. $5,700-some-odd dollars! Whew! But his portion is only $70. So that's liveable.

On I went, winding my way out to the lettered county highway. Huh. The road was strewn with something. What was that? Sticks? Limbs? On I went. Around the last curve. There was the County side-mower, blocking my way on a little hill. He pulled over. I edged around him, hoping nothing was coming at me. MADE IT!

Okay. Now time to get down to business. Get to town for my magical elixir, some scratchers, and pick up lunch for The Pony and myself. 

My magical elixir was tasty from the sip I took as a sample. But they didn't have the new crossword scratcher that The Pony had given me money to buy him. Oh, well. On to Casey's to see if they had it.

Whoops! In the five minutes I spent in the Gas Station Chicken Store, the weekly semi truck that delivers Casey's merchandise had arrived, and parked along the front of their store. Taking up all the parking spaces. Huh. Guess Casey's was off the table for tickets.

I was still optimistic, on my way to the dead-mouse-smelling post office to drop a bill and a letter for Farmer H (he's welcome for the STAMP I fought so hard to get) in the outside mailbox. I left my window down, inhaling that autumn aroma, hearing the crinkled brown leaves skitter across the pavement.

Okay. Let's try the liquor store for those new crossword tickets. I parked and went inside. While waiting in line, it was clear that the new tickets were not in the case. So I left. Wasted trip. But I was still upbeat. I'd try Country Mart's machines.

Well. All my parking spots were taken. So I had a longer walk. No new crossword tickets. So I got The Pony a Bingo and a two-dollar ticket. Got myself two fives. Not a big deal. Off to Hardee's for the chicken tenders and fries The Pony asked for, and a taco salad for myself.

Gosh. Four cars ahead of me. Oh. I see the problem. Hardee's was extra busy, because Dairy Queen was CLOSED! So their business came across the road.

Of course I had to pull forward and wait for the chicken to cook. So I took a picture of the DQ parking lot pavers. So you can be entertained, as I was. Except you can't smell the stench of fresh blacktop.

There's my pharmacy drive-thru window in the background. Country Mart is down at the end of the road, to the right, but you can't see it.

These guys were remarkably efficient. It was like a choreographed ballet. I wish I'd had dinner with my show! Ten minutes later, the food was brought out to T-Hoe. Of course they'd stacked The Pony's foam container of chicken, and bag of fries, on top of my taco salad, thus covering its breathing holes, and further smothering it in a plastic bag.

Oh my gosh! It was the smallest taco salad I've seen yet. Even The Pony commiserated with me, and offered some of his chicken tenders. Nah. I added some extra shredded cheddar, and a tiny can of 2-weeks-expired sliced black olives, and took a bowl of salsa to add as I ate it. And scratched my LOSERS, after The Pony had already scratched his.

Such a beautiful day. Such a plethora of obstacles. It can only improve tomorrow...