Roadside Jesus Doohickies and Defenestration.

Favorite words.
I have a lot, but this is top of the list. I took Latin in H.S, and made all my kids take it too [hell,we all had the same teacher! TYVM, Mz Nilsestuen! ] but I *do* have have one favorite word, it just tickles me. I have blogged about it in relation to things jumping out of the fridge at me :o)
Defenestrate
[n, tr.v]: To throw out a window, to be caused to be thrown out a window

I was dusting the window sills Sunday, and sashayed my ass into our bedroom. As I dusted under the a/c unit, I realized there was moisture under there. Not Good. We have the original wooden unpainted windowsills. Doubly Not Good. I call to Steve, and he determines that the unit is not canted properly for the moisture to run off. And decides on a Rube Goldberg type of wooden ruler solution. As I am placing the ruler, for the umpteenth time, in the position he scribes, it happens.....the a/c unit DEFENESTRATED itself. Right out the window, onto the roof of the "Library" [the 3 season room, with separate electric heat, that we have no clue how to use yet, and Won't have said clue until we go thru a winter with it, to calculate the heating costs. *I* want that room for a studio, but if it costs too much to heat......]

OMDDG. I thought it was hysterical, but I was trying to guard Steves feelings, I didn't want to burst out laughing if this was gonna piss him off. But, he looked at me with the same thought in his eyes. And we both burst out laughing, with the a/c unit on the lower roof, in the rain. I will NEVER forget the sight of that unit sliding out the window, it happened so fast we just couldn't do anything about it.

After we got done laughing, we were able to pull the unit back up into the window and secure it properly. Steve says, glad the kids weren't here to see that. So I promptly FaceBooked it, and am reporting in to you too.

That was Sunday. I think you all know how I feel about Mondays. [not only from de Debbil, but from the lowest bowels of Hell] This Monday was no different. A rough start, a nasty commute,... but God was looking out for me.

Epiphany
[n]: a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

I think you've all seen 'em......those roadside doohickies that say "This is the speed limit, and THIS is the speed you are traveling at" ....well, I met one of those doohickies on my way home last Thursday. In the area where the sign says "USE TWO LANES". And my result? I was doing 72 in a 40 mph zone. It doesn't ameliorate the damage to say, we ALL were, and I am NEVER an aggressive or unsafe driver, but, well, there ya go. I was HORRIFIED. It's one thing to joke about it, it's another to SEE it. And I decided that I will do better in the speed department.

Fast-forward [hahaha] to Monday morning.
I come to a "Y" in the road...on one side. I come down Rt 32 to Rt 17, which in a few miles takes me to work. A Co-worker approaches the same *Y* from the 17M side, and continues down Rt 17. I am stopped, and I see her vehicle go thru the light. She is due is at 7:30, and I am due in at 8am, so I know I am right on time.

This is my hometown, my stomping grounds, no surprizes here, right?

I am deciding whether or not to pass a truck. The truck is in the slow lane, in front of me and to my right. There is one car in front of me in the fast lane. I looked up to see if any fast groups of cars were coming up behind me, in which case I'd move to the slow lane. Nope. I look down at my speed, I was laughing a bit, nothing like a reformed whore who found Jesus in a road side doohickey, right? I was doing 55 in a 55. The car in front of me put it's directional on, to move over so I could pass, but the car was still in front of me.

And then.

The big rig [think huge garbage truck, that's what it looked like] in the slow lane TIPPED OVER. The fucker TIPPED OVER. Toward the shoulder, and part of it came right out.....into the fast lane. We were all fine. Rush hour drivers can be assholes, but when the shit hits the fan, you do what you gotta do without thinking. We all stopped, no one else hit anyone else or was hurt.You could SMELL the brake pads in the morning air. And the DEAD silence in the seconds after the screeching. And, in the opposite direction, here comes a local cop car.

Here's the thing. If I hadn't seen Jesus in a roadside doohickey, I would have had my lead foot on. And I would have passed the other car. And when that truck tipped over, it would have swatted me off the road like a pesky mosquito.

My co-worker was horrified, she saw the truck tip in her rear-view mirror, and knew about where I was. The cop on the scene talked to the drivers behind the truck, and the one in front of me, and then turned us all around, and I used back roads to get to work.When I called to say I was gonna be late,.....the pure joy and relief in my co workers voice was evident.

I've never had an hour commute in my Life, and this is a whole new world for me. I will admit... I HATE IT. I hate it. I am who I am, and I am NOT a commuter. But that's what I gotta do right now. HOWEVER.......I am done with letting pods of traffic dictate my speed. I am 48, and acted like a teen at a pot party, oh WOW, everyone ELSE is doing it, and I'm ashamed of that.The local paper says, the cops expect and will ignore up to 10 miles an hour over the limit, during rush hour in safe situations. And I think I'll stick to that.

You know, I have never had a ticket in my life. When I told Steve about the Jesus doohickey, he said, a LOT of them are camera-equipped, and you might wind up with a speeding ticket in the mail. You know what? That sounds pretty good to me right now.

I am so glad to be home.