Tuesday, July 08, 2014

Paul Bunyan I am not

So, there was this tree...

A small tree, mind you, but a tree nonetheless.

And I, driving, pulling into a parking space at work in my car...

And there was this tree...

There isn't a tree anymore. Not upright, anyway.

As I eased my foot from the gas pedal, intending to break smoothly, yet firmly, some disconnect occurred between my intent and the reality of it all. And the car leaped forward as I hit the wrong pedal.

Leaped over the concrete curb separating the parking spaces from the grassy area wherein was to be found...the tree.

I am well. The car is still capable of getting me from A to B, albeit with a snout that's going to need considerable work. The tree is no more. Uprooted, felled, flattened by three and a half thousand pounds of car sitting on its trunk. The tree's, that is.

Monday. I'm chalking it up to Monday.


  1. Oh, dear! I'm glad you're all right. Mondays are a nasty business...apparently, trees consider this to be true as well... ;)

    1. :D Thanks, River. Someone today said, "You killed a tree!' He was quite horrified.

      Rightly so, I suppose. What a karma deficit. I suspect I'll come back, in my next incarnation, as a tree—planted in the middle of a highway.

  2. Ow! Glad you're ok and sorry for the tree. I almost did something like that Sunday, so i don't even have Monday to blame. (All together now ... "What a draaag it is gettin' oooolllld"!)

    1. I'm right there with you, Janet.

      Glad you managed to avoid matching my escapade. You're the better for it.

  3. Replies
    1. damn auto correct nook should read noooo!

    2. Oh nook! That sounds like a useful phrase. :)

      Thanks, Helen. All is well (with me, not so much for the tree)—apart from a severe dent in my pride.