I'm baaaack!
I said that in a sing-songy voice in my head and that is how you should read it to yourself.
Yes, it's true I'm updating again. That makes it 2 times since I said I wasn't going to update over the summer. To be fair, Maria wanted me to update after our weekend at Cardinal Hill (I told her only if I had a story to tell!)
Moving right along.
I really don't know how to start this, so I'm just going to jump right into the most recent story that I quickly decided would be blog worthy.
I had a near death experience last weekend.
That's right.
Near. Death.
Now, let's get a key word re-defined (for the purpose of dramatic flair and all that good stuff that comes with a thrilling story).
When I say "near", I mean like when Grandma used to tell us at Easter or Christmas dinners that we weren't allowed to eat too much candy because it was "nearing" dinner time when in fact dinner was yet an hour (at least) away.
So near (essentially) = far.
It all started when the Martin family decided it would be a nice idea to spend the July 4th weekend at Cardinal Hill.
Being a part of the family, I tagged along up to the boonies.
Cousin Maria was only going to be there for a day or so, and I wasn't about to stand her up.
Saturday afternoon the whole family was just kind of relaxing, doing 3083947092 different things yet somehow all knowing what the rest were up to.
After hitting up some pretty dead yard sales, Maria and I decided to head over to Colonel Denning State Park for some good fresh air and a scenic place to read.
We should have known the moment we asked for directions that maybe it wasn't such a good idea for two blonde college students on summer break to be gallivanting across (what was it...) Perry County (???). We had a bit of a rough start after missing our first turn (without realizing it) and doing some back-tracking on the road we finally turned off of.
To be honest, I wasn't paying much attention to the directions my father was giving me, because I assumed my older cousin with more driving experience under her belt would probably have a good idea where we were heading.
She informed me later that she's pretty much as directionally challenged as they come.
So after taking about a 10 minute detour, we arrived at the park. With the adirondacks in sight and books in hand, we headed for the sand! lol.
First we tried out the gazebo. Didn't last long though- there was a huge daddy long legger directly above my head. A bit disconcerting if you ask me.
He was totally planning to get me. Totally.
Anyway, we lasted longer than I expected we would. There was a lot of entertainment from the locals. A girl beside me was wearing a camouflage bathing suit that was to-die-for! (kidding), another man was walking around with one of those ankle tracking things that they give to criminals, and then there were the two guys who were both very much out of shape with their cracks sticking out atop their suits. Yuck.
After a bit, we decided to hit the road again.
As we were winding around these back (back, back, back) country roads determined to find our way correctly, Maria mentioned how nervous hilly roads made her. We laughed it off and decided to focus our energies on the song that we (FINALLY) found on the radio.
I'm free. Free fallin'. Yeah I'm free. Free fallin'.
Just like that, Maria causally broke from the familiar song lyrics and calmly said, "oh, wow". Without hesitation, a young deer decided it would be cool to play chicken with our vehicle.
Out of no where this deer came barreling across the street, attempted to leap over the car and failed. She managed to somehow roll across the front of the car, did a few flops on the side of the road, and jumped up with a bit of a limp and throw herself over the bank and into the bushes.
Somewhere in the mix, Maria muttered "shhh-nikes", and stopped the car. According to a certain eye-witness, I was all tensed up and had braced myself for impact.
I do great under pressure.
When it was all over, Maria said, "I guess I should pull over". So she did, and quickly jumped out to asses the damage, leaving her door wide open in the process.
The diagnosis was not nearly as good as we were hoping, but not too shabby considering what had recently transpired.
A car then came around the corner, and I called out to this wise, older cousin and said, " Hey Maria, maybe you should close your door." We weren't parked on much of a shoulder, and I didn't think leaving a door open would have yielded very nice results.
When we kind of got ourselves together, Maria looked at me and said, "I guess you have something to write about in your blog now, huh?"
I made a promise that day that I would write about our traumatic experience.
Looking back, I'm not really sure who won that game of chicken. The deer walked away with everything aside from her pride (and the full use of her back legs), and we drove off with a busted grille and slightly dented hood.
Near. Death.
If we really want to talk about winners, I would have to mention this quickly. I have succeeded in answering that age-old question: who in the world did I inherit my cliffy-toed gene from?
My great-aunt Mary has cliffy toes, JUST LIKE ME.
My foot is on the right, and hers is on the left.
I mean, they're not identical, but considering mine were the freak feet in the family for the past 19 years, I'd say that's a pretty good match.
It's suddenly past my 11 o'clock bed-time goal.
Shucks!
Discipline Caitlyn, discipline!
Oh, maybe one day.
