Since 1996 I have stayed home on New Year's Day. Here are two of several reasons why.
On a New Year's Day in the early 1990s we were that close to being towed away from a restaurant. Wenever park never knowingly park in spaces reserved for those with handicap parking permits. Never. Unless in the pounding rain on a black night the barely-there paint in the shape of a wheelchair was impossible to see. And unless there was no upright sign post indicating a handicap parking permit space. We parked. We ate. We exited in time to stop them taking our vehicle. Next time we drove by there were brand new upright sign posts but we never ate there again.
The picture. Of our vehicle. The passenger side. The smashed in side. That's where I was sitting. No. Hanging. Upside down. From my seat belt. After rolling two and a half times down a steep ravine. After hydroplaning in deep slush. Eight inches of snow melted very suddenly at midday. On January 1, 1996.
After a curve to the left, the road straightened out and Lionel steered straight ahead. The vehicle kept veering to the left towards a steep ravine. He managed to drive it almost all the way down the hillside; eventually the bumper dug into the hillside causing the vehicle to flip over. My head hit the windshield then my window each time. In slow motion. I thought I might die. We were so close to home we could see the sign post for our road. Elizabeth was home with her eldest brother. I thought I would never see them again.
Lionel and Shane were fine but shaken, also hanging upside down. My purse and keys were far, far away, I didn't know where. There was windshield glass in my hair and deep internal bruising with no external sign of injury on my knee. Our pit bull Duchess insisted on licking it better for months but it has never been right since except that it now allows me to predict rain.
Those were the two worst examples out of the lot. It's not so much that I'm superstitious, but any time the Universe gives me several strong hints a few years in a row, I pay attention. Yeah, I'll be home all day. Happy New Year!
On a New Year's Day in the early 1990s we were that close to being towed away from a restaurant. We
The picture. Of our vehicle. The passenger side. The smashed in side. That's where I was sitting. No. Hanging. Upside down. From my seat belt. After rolling two and a half times down a steep ravine. After hydroplaning in deep slush. Eight inches of snow melted very suddenly at midday. On January 1, 1996.
After a curve to the left, the road straightened out and Lionel steered straight ahead. The vehicle kept veering to the left towards a steep ravine. He managed to drive it almost all the way down the hillside; eventually the bumper dug into the hillside causing the vehicle to flip over. My head hit the windshield then my window each time. In slow motion. I thought I might die. We were so close to home we could see the sign post for our road. Elizabeth was home with her eldest brother. I thought I would never see them again.
Lionel and Shane were fine but shaken, also hanging upside down. My purse and keys were far, far away, I didn't know where. There was windshield glass in my hair and deep internal bruising with no external sign of injury on my knee. Our pit bull Duchess insisted on licking it better for months but it has never been right since except that it now allows me to predict rain.
Those were the two worst examples out of the lot. It's not so much that I'm superstitious, but any time the Universe gives me several strong hints a few years in a row, I pay attention. Yeah, I'll be home all day. Happy New Year!
glad you made it out of those prangs without too much trouble! Looks pretty scary!
ReplyDeleteI agree! (I had to look that word up, I'd not heard it before.)
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