Big Bang Baby, It's A Crash Crash Crash

I should have just written about this here instead of posting a provocative "status update" on Facebook. The power of Facebook! Instant sympathy with no details needed!

Yesterday I had to drive to the town an hour away to pick up Tonks. Beau and I have been in Auckland for over 4 days, and there are only 2 two-hour windows each day to pick her up which is kind of impossible to make when road tripping by night. I picked her up, she went SUPER spazzo like I expected (she's still a puppy, she's still a puppy), and put her in the back on the car and we were off.

It was a great day. I got to stop at the pottery place I love and buy 2 bowls and one coffee container. We are slowly accumulating all our dishware this way, in two's, like Noah's Ark, but at a bit of a slower pace.

I picked up some groceries, got the good dog food from the vet for Tonks, and even filled up the gas tank -- I felt immensely responsible and headed for home after a couple hours. Tonks had her head hanging joyously out the window.

I had only gotten about 10-15 minutes out of town. I was rounding one of 10,000 corners on this road when the car swerved a little. I immediately tried to correct it, and suddenly it was as if car was alive, and I was driving Christine. The car was violently careening back and forth, while I made desperate attempts to control it. With each jerk, out of the corner of my eye I could see Tonks being flung around the car, letting out a sharp howl each time she hit something. It's amazing how in just a few seconds, so many things fly through your head. It's not like they say -- "everything goes in slow motion" -- it didn't. It was so fast, and I was just barely reacting to it all. But it was like my thoughts were matching the lightning speed of the events around me.

I thought about how bad I felt that Tonks was being thrown around like a rag doll. I thought about how I couldn't believe I couldn't get control of this car. I thought about how stupefied I was that the car had gained a life of its own like this, I saw the embankment coming and thought that I was about to be in a lot of trouble... or worse.

Supposedly, I hit the embankment full on (about 12 feet high) and then spun 360 degrees to hit it head on again. The seatbelt locked in and the airbags deployed. "It's a miracle you didn't flip," said the ambulance worker, "Cars always flip in these situations."

Immediately after the final head-on hit, I stared at the hood, which was now smoking alarmingly. As if I was in a Hollywood movie, all I could think of was, "It's gonna blow! It's gonna blow!" I scrambled to free myself from the car. The seatbelt was stuck. The key (the car was still running) was stuck, the door was stuck. "The car's going to explode!" was all I could think of. I finally got the key to turn off, though it wouldn't come out. I got the seatbelt off and the door open. I turned and grabbed Tonks's leash (still attached to her collar) and led her out with me. I staggered away from the car...my hips and chest aching, my neck and arms burning.

Within seconds, people started appearing. A large Maori man with his eyes like saucers stared at me. It was his large place that I had crashed near. "It was so loud," he kept saying. Others started pulling over, including a woman who had just minutes ago annoyed me in the grocery store. *blush*

The trunk had blown open and all the groceries were strewn across the road, including the expensive bag of dog food. I just stood there, holding onto Tonks's leash, stunned, shocked. "Beau's going to kill me!" I thought over and over. He always thinks that I go too fast and I had no idea why it might have happened except for the fact that maybe I had come around the corner too quickly. It all just seemed too weird though.

A young girl had called the police and ambulance, and they arrived from town rather quickly. There was now quite a crowd, and I was feeling a little awkward. The girl let me use her phone, and for the second time in as many months, I called the school and told the woman who answered, "Get Beau, it's an emergency."

Everyone was very nice, and what was left of my groceries and dog food was picked up off the highway and placed on the side of the road. The onlookers, police, and ambulance workers unanimously stated that the back tire had blown out and been the cause of the accident. I felt immensely relieved by this. I knew I hadn't been going over the speed limit (100kph), but I was wrong. Sort of.

It seems awhile back there had been a 30kph sign posted. About 3 feet in front of my accident sight was the 100kph sign. The 30kph signs are used for construction which is frequent on the highway between our place and town. Usually this involves a group of burly and burnt men standing on the side of the road while we drive by at a crawl, gravel crackling and popping around us. In the area I had been in there were a couple of cones on the side of the road, but no construction. This had annoyed the police officer at the scene who grumbled that construction crews often left their signs around when there was no real work in the area anymore.

I felt Tonks all over her body, pressing into her muscles and feeling her legs, but besides a little shock, she seemed totally fine. I couldn't believe it, especially since she had been thrown around the car like a rag doll.

I was then led into the back of an ambulance by a very nice EMT lady, and Tonks was allowed too! I was quickly checked, and after several "tsk's" at the sight of the seatbelt marks across my neck and chest and some mysterious welts in other places, it was determined that I was merely banged to shit, and had nothing broken. "You're very lucky, you know," she said, "Air bags don't deploy without quite an impact."

I have no memory of the air bag, none at all, though it's shriveled afterbirth is still stuck to the steering wheel.

The police officer took my statement, and after investigating a bit, determined it wasn't my fault *phew* He looked up and chuckled. "They sure clear out fast, don't they?" he said. The onlookers, ambulance workers, fire truck, other police officer, and tow truck (with totaled car attached), had all vanished. It was just the two of us now. He let Tonks and I sit in the back of his air-conditioned car (it's still the edge of summer here) and wait for Beau to arrive.

Then, after what seemed FOREVER, Beau pulled up in our now only remaining vehicle -- a beat-up ol' 1987 truck. Seeing him emerge and walk toward us was a wonderful moment.

I know I'm lucky. My injuries, though painful and colorful, are all superficial. The biggest reason though? Just a few miles further up is when this "coastal highway" does just that -- hugs the coast. The view is impressive, not just for its beauty, but for its drop-off that makes your stomach somersault with just a glance. I had no control over that car whatsoever. If it had been just 5 more minutes into my drive, I'd probably be dead.

This morning I feel like total shit. My entire body is stiff and the few remaining places that didn't hurt yesterday are screaming in protest and pain today. I walk around like I'm wearing a neck brace and do the Playboy bunny squat when trying to pick things up. The most amusing though is literally rolling out of bed and then pushing myself up from all fours until I can stand. My entire torso is too sore to pull myself up from any kind of position.

And so today I putter around the house like an old woman, and soon the call to the insurance agency. Hopefully, I'll have as much luck with them as I did with my crash.

Tonks Sucks, I Suck

My "puppy" Tonks is 7 months old, which Beau keeps reminding me means she's "still a puppy" but I'm pretty much fed up with all the puppy shit and think it's about time it ended. I'll go through about a week of totally loving this dog -- she'll be perfect! Fun, funny, a good companion, obedient, etc. Then the next week, she'll chew the shit out of 5 favorite things, bite the cat's head, and the one that makes me the craziest -- takes off from our "land" and runs off down the highway. Yes, the HIGHWAY! I know it's a 2-lane country highway, but it's mad curvy, sees a very small, but steady stream of traffic, and ... it's a HIGHWAY!

This is a big bummer for me, because when we moved here, one of the best things was that Tonks could just basically live outside all day, running around the hills and different yards of our place. Spending most of the day inside, I'd occasionally see her trotting happily around, tail high and slightly wagging, face looking jolly.

Then we figured out that she had not only figured out how to make it down to the highway (which is actually not all that easy since we're in a dense forest area), but that she had found a dead hawk on the road and... WAS EATING IT! I know! Gross! She brought it back up to the lawn around the house, and there were brown feathers and hawk guts EVERYWHERE. Totally puke-inducing.

So, I started going outside more often, at least once an hour, and I'd call her name to make sure she was around. After a few bellows, she usually would bound up to me at 100 mph, tongue lolling out, all expectant. I'd usually give her a tiny treat for her obedience.

But we let her into the house in the evenings, and just the other day, just around dusk, we let her out to go wee. After about 15 minutes, we noticed that she hadn't returned on her own, as normal. We went outside and starting calling and calling, whistling and whistling. No dog.

"She went to the highway," said Beau. I knew he was right...and I was scared. She'd never NOT come back before, even when it was clear she had been up to no good -- coming back after several calls, drenched, and covered in mud.

So, we got in Beau's shithole pickup and started down the highway looking for her. Beau looked out one side, me the other. We got all the way to our neighbor's place a few kilometers down the road.... no dead dog on the road....phew, but still, no dog.

We turned around and started driving back, and halfway there, she popped out of the bush on the side of the road -- the OTHER side of the road by the ocean, a couple miles from our house. And this all in about 15 minutes!

I was slightly relieved, but a lot more pissed. She jumped into the back of the truck, and we went back, before I killed her on her own.

So, more and more often, she's been spending a lot of time hooked on her long chain. Of course, even though it is rather long, and she is under an enormous car park shelter, she hates it. Better than having her splattered all over the highway, but I still hate keeping her chained up so often.

And how does she show her dissatisfaction? By chewing the FUCK out of anything she can possibly reach. Bags of soil, shoes, garden tools, plants, etc. It's like a little kid -- you try to remove anything you think they can possibly reach, and yet, they still seem to get to stuff...

Yesterday, I came out and was surprised to find Beau's NEW swim fins on the ground, near the guilty-looking dog. They had been hanging in a net bag on a hook up on one of the carport's wooden beams. Tonks had chewed through the net bag, the fins had dropped out, and she had then proceeded to chew on the fins themselves, taking them from shiny and new, to shitty looking. After smacking Tonks on the butt with one of them, and giving her a few choice words, I placed them on top of the car's trunk to get them out of her way. Then I went to feed the chickens.

A couple hours later I had to go to the local medical clinic to get some blood drawn. It's approximately a 20 minute drive to the clinic, and when I had called them from home, they had told me if I had to make it there within the next 30 minutes. Naturally, most of the way there I was behind a slow car, which can be rather maddening when you're the ONLY two cars in the universe, which is what it feels like out here. Finally, we reached a straightaway, and the car sped up a bit, hooray! As I was singing along to my iTunes player and speeding up a little, I looked into my rearview mirror. I saw two bright blue shapes explode into the air behind me, flutter gracefully, and then disappear out of my view.

FUCK!!!

The swim fins. I had totally forgotten they were there. And I had already been on the road for 15 minutes! I immediately pulled over next to an old tractor, then turned around and drove as slowly as I could up and down the road. Didn't see them anywhere. Lots of yellow brush grass on the sides of the road. I looked at the clock -- I had 10 minutes to get to the clinic. I was about 5 minutes away. But I did have a small dilemma -- you leave something like that out here for more than a few minutes, and it's probably going to be happily claimed by someone as their new prize.

Well, I decided I had to go get the blood drawn (immigration thing) and then I'd come back and do a better search. I walked back to the car and saw the old tractor, which I thought was just a piece of junk on the side of the road, pulling onto the road. A man, who looked like he was about 126 years old, was driving.

I got in the car and pulled slowly up beside him. I tried to talk to him through the window, but nothing could be heard above the rattle of the tractor. We pulled over.

"Hi!" I said, "I live here...over at the river...at Dave's place..." I was trying to establish that I wasn't the typical white devil that many Maori can see us as, but as a legitimate local. I was okay!

The man opened his mouth, which appeared to be lacking any teeth, and kind of moaned. Uh oh. It was quite possible that he was a local who only spoke Maori. I immediately went into my ESL-Teacher mode, gesticulating with my specialized language-barrier-beating sign language and talking slowly and clearly. He made a few more moan sounds, and I wasn't sure if he was getting any of it. Then, he began to speak English to me, and the more I talked, the more aware I became that yes, he spoke English, and yes, idiot that I was, probably understood every word I was saying. I told him about the fins.

"Ohhhh, someone probably picked them up..." he said. This almost made me laugh, since like I said, a few more minutes and yeah, I could probably kiss them goodbye.

After a few more awkward moments, I just let him know that if he should see them, they were mine, and I'd be back ASAP. Then, feeling a little more stupid, we both got back on our vehicles and were off.

I returned from the clinic about 20 minutes later, and parked the car on the side of the road. I got out, and started to walk, searching the side, peering into the bush. After I rounded a corner, and the car was out of sight, I started to wonder if leaving the keys in the car, even in the middle of nowhere, was really such a smart idea. Well, must have been, because I continued walking up the road, searching searching.... I got pretty far, and crossed over, to come back. Uh oh, this didn't look good.

Finally though, after passing a couple farms and a perplexed cow, I came upon one dusty fin sitting in the brush. Yes! Okay, the second couldn't be too far off, right? I know I never took Physics, but still. I didn't see it at first, but finally spotted it....down in a ditch about 10 feet down. Of course.

After a humorous descent through brambles and bushes, I reached and retrieved Beau's poor fin.

The ride home was surprisingly without incident.