The house was a chilly 44 degrees this morning (that’s about 6 measly degrees for the non-Fahenheit among us, if my math is right. And that’s a big if) and barely 32/0 degrees outside.
I put on the heater before I even fed the cats or put on the coffee. I was just sipping my first little thimble of much-needed caffeine when the phone rang. It was 6:45 in the am, and it was my sister.
She was calling from the side of the road on a lonely stretch of Highway One in the chilly, pre-dawn darkness. It was lucky that she was in one of the few areas that actually gets cell phone service.
The truck’s tire had basically exploded, leaving her stranded. As you know, her car has been non-operational since September, so Rob needed to borrow my car to go and get the spare truck tire from Jonathan’s place (I don’t know why it was there) and then go and get Megan, who had 4 hours of sleep before her 12 hour shift and had 8 ambulance patients over that time period, one of whom didn’t make it. It had been a long night for her.
He dropped Megan off at home and picked me up, leaving me at the jobette while he went to have a rim applied to the spare tire. Apparently he had a hell of a time trying to make this happen, and ended up having to order something which should arrive tomorrow. In the meantime, he’s locked up the truck, put a note on the windshield, and is hoping that it won’t get towed away before he can get the tire fixed. There’s always something!