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A honey of a day

To: "spitfires@autox" <spitfires@autox.team.net>
Subject: A honey of a day
From: "Livia I. Haasper" <wilivhaasper@sympatico.ca>
Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 22:42:03 -0500
Listers,
I swear, on my mothers grave, that every word of this story is true.


      A honey of a day

Someone asked the other day, after hearing about my enthusiasm for my
newly acquired  Spitfire:  Can she drive a standard?. Obviously that
person didnt know me very well.
Is the earth round? Does the sun set in the west? A little story came to
mind that happened a few years ago. Just remembering it makes me giggle
again.

We live in a typical country home not far from Ottawa, Ontario. The
luxury of a town drainage system has not yet reached this side of the
woods. We therefore have to rely on a septic and weeping system for the
drainage of our waste water. The maintenance requires, that every few
years the septic tank has to be drained, and the accumulated muck pumped
out. I had called a company for this job, and their truck, lovingly
called the honey wagon, was already on its way. It had snowed that day,
and due to a thaw, the conditions outside deteriorated to muddy slash.
Now, I have to explain, that the entrance to our driveway angles
somewhat to the left. There is also a gate that is framed by two stone
pillars. Usually people have no problems with the entry, nobody ever
complaint. Our typical Canadian unpaved country road has a rather deep
drainage ditch on both sides which, over the years, has provided the
neighborhood with many entertaining mishaps. Some drivers, for whatever
reason, simply can not stay on the gravel and find themselves down in
the muck once in a while.

The truck arrived, I could hear the engine noise, and I was already
outside to give directions. But something was not right. The large
tanker truck had somehow missed the entrance and gotten stuck in the
ditch. As I came closer to the scene of the accident, a dirty looking
young man dressed in ragged cloth, arms flailing wildly in the air, eyes
flashing angrily, came bouncing towards me. You stupid people, cant
you build a decent driveway! Now I got the .......truck in the
.......ditch. I have to call the .......tow truck to get me out of this
.......mess.
Hold on young man I tried to calm him down politely, It doesnt look
so bad. Can you not straighten out those wheels and try again? I
recommended.  His mouth contorted to an evil grin, showing of a single
yellow tooth in the process.   Lady, you know nothing of trucks, he
fired back, which, I must admit, was the truth. Now, where is
the.......phone? He was already walking toward the house. I was not to
keen on letting this wild man into my home, and I quickly came up with
an idea. Let me get a tow chain and my pick-up truck, Ill try to pull
you out. This said, I did just that. I connected the chain to my truck,
then somehow crawled under the evil smelling tanker and hocked it up to
its frame, while Romeo was standing idly by, watching my efforts. I
ordered him back into his vehicle, in the hope that he would make an
effort to try to move the tanker backwards. I was in my pic-up pulling
the load. We werent moving anything here. After a few tries I gave up
the attempt. Being a pretty stubborn soul I thought, why dont I try to
drive this thing out?  At first this approach did not go over very well,
but my determination finally persuaded Romeo. He was going to let my try
it. As I came into close vicinity of the honey wagon, the stench of
decaying human waste almost made me abort the rescue mission. But I
dont give up easily. I heaved myself into the filthy cabin, adjusted
the seat to my rather short and stubby legs, checked out the gear
pattern for the reverse, cranked the gears into motion, straightened out
the wheels, and slowly rocked back and forth, shifting wildly between
first and reverse, to find the best approach for the slippery, steep
ditch. Behind me, I kid you not, I could hear the honey swishing back
and forth while thick waves of stench filled my nostrils with every
breath. I asked myself why I had gotten into this situation. But I was
confident that I could get that job done. I stepped on the gas and, with
a jolt and a bolt, I managed to elegantly extract the tanker from its
muddy hole, passing wide eyes Romeo in the process. I continued in
reverse  through the gate, down the narrow drive way, and delivered the
honey container to the location of the septic tank.
I did refuse, however, to roll out the hose and pump out the waste
myself; and I tell you secretly now: I have never been more proud of
being a woman in a so-called mens world.
Later I found out that this company overcharged me by $ 25. I guess this
job was too much trouble for young Romeo.

Now, what do you think?
Will I able to drive and handle a Spitfire?



Liv
As always, entertaining the list
67 Spit in the making.

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