Something to appreciate

Sometimes life comes at you hard, well maybe not you, but for me, sometimes I feel like a toothless bait dog thrown in the fight I was never meant to win.

While I’m not convinced these days (weeks, years) are making me stronger, they are giving me a stronger appreciation of the friends and family I have.

This past Sunday I was particularly grateful for my friend Andy.

How we became friends, I’m not entirely sure. He was a student looking for a job and I had a student worker position open. Now years later, we still talk often even though he’s graduated and recently moved to a new city.

Not far from his new residence is where the driving belt tension arm in my 2000 car went out, as 11 year old cars are wont to do.

Our roadside assistance didn’t assist us much. $50 toward a tow is apparently just a few miles and the tow company only wanted cash in the hundreds.

My handy hubby was sure he could fix the car if we could only get ~22 miles to an auto parts store.  And like angel, Andy answered his phone and drove the ~40 miles to rescue us and the dogs from the cold side of the road. He took us to the auto parts store twice and helped D in the dark, in the cold, in the misting rain install the part.

Andy with his handy dandy flashlight and other tools he had to assist us. It saves us from having to buy a second set of tools we had at home.

 

In the middle of nowhere on a narrow road in the dark in the cold fixing my car. Good hubby. Good friend.

 

Though he resisted, he let us fill his tank and buy his dinner, probably all the parts plus his gas and food costing us what the tow would have.

Believe me, this turned out to be a week I needed something to be grateful for. Though we didn’t get home until after 10:30 when we should have been home by 4:30 at the latest. Being stranded and then rescued was not by far the worse thing that happened these last couple of days.

Sadly, something killed and partially ate one of my hens on Monday, so our flock is down to 7 ladies. I know it’s remarkable that for a free range flock that I raised 8 of them from a day old that they all survived their first year and I’ve now lost two in their second year, but it still breaks my heart to lose any one of them.

That along with some other bad news has made me more stressed and unhappy than I would care to be normally, much less 32 weeks pregnant. It’s left me feeling raw, abused, and battered, and yet but not alone.

I am definitely not alone. That is something always to appreciate.

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