February 5th was a dark and snowy day. Yet I was motivated to head west to Lincoln to rendezvous (those Pemsler French CDS are really working for me) with my Dad. The occasion was an awards banquet honoring Nebraska artists, including one of my Dad's coffee buddies a 92 year-old calligrapher, appropriately named, Art. After a mutually treacherous journey, my Dad and I both silently agreed that Mom was truly the smart one among us for deciding to stay home. She wasn't the only one homebound. For the honoree and appropriately fifty K-townies failed to appear after the bus they chartered was CANCELED! So, my Dad, myself and one other person sat at a table for ten, ate substandard banquet food, endured a program where our “man of the hour” that we had intended to salute was not there and the drive home was looming ahead.
If you read the title of this entry, you know where this story is headed. . . I lost control of the civic just west of the Platte river, and was t-boned by an Omaha Steaks delivery truck (note, the irony that I was t-boned by a truck delivering meat- guess who won't be getting a box of free steaks?) And then my car proceeded into a snowy ditch. Fortunately, I am past the experience without a scratch. I wasn't even sore the next day. My car was not as fortunate. It is still in the body shop and should be done with major re-constructive surgery on Friday.
2 comments:
OMG!! I am SO very thankful that you are OK. How terrifying. You should write Honda and let them know that you walked away without a scratch. Then maybe you'd have free steaks and a new car!? And Art totally owes you some of his best work! :)
Yikes, how scary! I am also very thankful that you escaped without injury.
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