...but that has nothing to do with why prettypammie
's Prius is in the ditch next to our driveway.
Let me explain...No, no...It is too much. Let me sum up.
Tomorrow is trash day. It has been raining steadily since last night. I was "incorrectly" using the two trash cans which were up at the house, one huge, one small. The other small can was still down at the barn site. [Who knew? Not I. We started the trash service after I broke my foot...this is the first week I felt game enough to try.] I had perched the big can on the trunk lid, but of course it fell off. So I got the small can down to the side, threw the other small can in the trunk, and drove up to retrieve it. Only being 50% up the driveway, I figured I'd just back down instead of driving up to the house to the turn-around. Mistake. Big mistake. Huge.
I started to "diverge" from the roadway, stopped and tried to pull back up. At this point I started to slide laterally, a la
the infamous Tractor in a Tree saga. Despite some protests from the neighborhood of my bifurcated fifth upper meta-tarsal, I wrestle the big trash can out of the car, up the ditch, and onto the driveway, lightening the load. Maybe I can now work my way back to the road, but use gravity as my friend and go down and back? Nope. More lateral slideage.
Crap. The cans were too big to use the crutch. My crutch is all the [expletive deleted] way up the hill at the house. Well, I can either shut the door, recline the seat, and wait for Pam to realize I never made it back and come investigate, or I can walk up the hill.
So I walk.
Regaining the house, my crutch, and the stairs, I relate to Pam in the best dead-pan I can muster: "Madam, the Office of Domestic Waste Management regrets to inform you that your car is in the ditch."