icon caret-left icon caret-right instagram pinterest linkedin facebook twitter goodreads question-circle facebook circle twitter circle linkedin circle instagram circle goodreads circle pinterest circle


Anticipating a Car That Smells Like a Tiny Wee Corpse

Hey kids, ain't country living the BEST? So I'm setting out this morning on my 4ish hour drive to Turning Stone, and turn on the heater just to take off the morning chill. Rattle, rattle, rattle, burning smell. Hmmmmm. Pull in to Thad's to ask him what he thinks is up. "I think you've got a mouse nest in there," he says. "I have to take care of that all the time. It'll probably take me an hour or so to open it up, dig out the nest and put the blower back." I'm kind of on a schedule - because of course, I'm leaving an hour later than I had hoped to because of course I HAD to have one more drink before bedtime last night.

So we figure, what the heck, I'll just bring it by on Monday when I get back. Ah well, I think, as I set off; it's going to be a little bit of a chilly trip, but at least winter hasn't really arrived yet. But I'm not always the sharpest knife in the drawer. I'm a good 90 minutes into my drive when I suddenly realize that Mickey (or Minnie) was probably in the nest when I turned on the heater, including when Thad and I turned it up to full blast to check it out. In which case, we probably chopped him (or her) up real good. In which case, I'm going to have a cold and stinky journey home. And I am going to have to tip the hotel valet sooooo much money. Stoopid nature.
Post a comment