Ann's First Tow Truck Ride

The high point of the day our the ride in the tow truck. At least Ann enjoyed it. She kept asking me what to call the thing we were riding in. "Tow truck," I said a few times. "Like my foot," she said. Close enough, I thought. "This is awesome! Awesome!" she also said about the ride. Guess so. Just when did that term become so popular? It wasn't something anyone I knew in school said much.

Our older Toyota woke up yesterday morning with a flat tire. I didn't have anywhere to go on Monday, so it wasn't until this morning that I replaced it with the emergency spare tire, that little doughnut of a tire that many cars have. Mine was original equipment. I intended to drive on it to the repair shop, but the doughnut had other ideas. After nearly 15 years, it didn't care to do the one thing I've ever asked of it, and soon it was flat too. But at least I could park it on a side street and walk back home, about five minutes away.

So a tow truck was called. Ann had to go with me, since no one else was at home. Later, at the shop, it turned out that the big-tire flat was unfixable, and a regular tire replacement that would fit my car is such an old style that a new one needed to be ordered from Vulcan's workshop. Actually, Ricky the helpful repair manager didn't quite put it that way, and they might get one as soon as tomorrow. We shall see.

If nothing else, it got me out of the house. The tinges of yellow and orange on the trees are advancing further every day.