Just call me grace

We have had two super crazy shenanigans around here this week. Here's a description of the first one. Yesterday evening my Dad came by our farm with a new toy. This type of event is commonplace. We were inside after dinner cleaning up and I heard a motorized vehicle pulling up. I don't know the names of these things, but it looked like a mini-motorcycle with off-road tires. Two wheels, required balanced, smaller than a motorcycle, fatter wheels. Any way, he said it would be fun to have in our new barn down by the fields in case the tractor ran out of gas. I immediately told him to, "Hop up and give me a turn!"

I am not a super adventurous, free spirit...except when it comes to go-carts and atvs. I just love them! And there's plenty of them to go around at our house. So without further instruction, I hopped on (in my short dress) and revved the engine. Note to self: figure out how to apply the brakes first next time! At the first little twist of the handle bar it didn't move. So I revved it...big time. It all went so fast, but I remember trying to find the brakes on that same handle bar. I didn't know the only brake was on the other handle bar. And I drove straight into an electric pole surrounded by a rose bush!

I have ALWAYS hated this pole. I have been so spoiled with the luxury of underground utilities in Atlanta. The look of a pole, right there, with draping electrical wires connected to our house chaps my hide. And on top of the aesthetic, I hate mowing grass around it. Also, I wasn't a big fan of the rose bush as I got up, covered in blood dripping from the 50 or so thorns embedded in my face, arms, legs, and hands! But I see now that the pole and the entangling thorns saved a big accident, as I would have gone down the big hill in our front yard and into the road! I will never look on the pole with detest again!

Well, I immediately began laughing hysterically. First of all, it was like an episode from Funniest Home Videos. Very funny, very foolish! And second, I peaked over at my Dad and thought he was going to have a heart attack. He is very over protective of me, and he doesn't handle blood well. So I knew I had to laugh, for his sake. I ripped my arms out of the bushes (ouch!) and said, "Hey Dad, are you gonna come get this thing off of me?" And while he woozily walked over, I just sat and laughed like a buffoon. In the end, other than scratches and a burn, the only damage done was to my pride and my poor daughter's emotional stability. She cried for an hour. Lots of blood makes her turn pale. Poor thing.

Here's the damage to my arms. Silly me!!