I’d had a cruddy week. I hadn’t cut off three fingers dicing vegetables but still, it had been stressful. It was Friday and I’d just gotten off a 48-hour shift with a demented client who feels the highlight of her day is torturing her caregivers by roughing them up. God gave me padding to glance off the blows and a light-on-my-feet way of sidestepping trouble, thus I have no black eyes.

A few weeks earlier, the charging warning light went on in my vehicle, then went off, as though it had been telling a little joke. My repairman said the alternator may need replacing but since it all seemed right as rain at the moment, I could drive it and see if it was just a glitch.

On this day, knowing we were headed up camping as soon as I got off work, I got groceries, the mail and fuel. I filled the gas tank and as I went to start my vehicle, it didn’t. I called my repairman, who came and jumped it, wondering not for the first time how he got the bum end of the stick in dealing with me.

With my buggy started, I told him I’d go home, unload the paraphernalia and bring the truck to him. Gar got home and I asked if he noticed my car was running? He said it wasn’t. I said it was and he said, “I promise, it’s not.” I went to check – balderdash!

I called my repairman again. By now, he might possibly be considering jumping off a high bridge to keep from seeing me again. He tells me to go camping and he’ll get the truck.

We are camping and Gar has had a long week too. He has a job that entails dealing, not with abusers of the flesh, but of the mind. I have no mind so I wouldn’t actually know what he goes through but I use my imagination. Also, Gar feels the cold weather is his nemesis and fall means winter. He’s just not happy in the knowing.

He’s a little cranky that evening but just getting away is helpful. Saturday comes and he asks if I want to take a ride and look for a deer. Good idea. After unloading the cooler, the day before, the tailgate was left down and we meant to put it up but forgot. Thus, as we start up a hill, the 350-pound generator slides right out the back of the truck and onto the road. It’s right about now that someone in the truck has a conniption. I’m taking the high road and not telling who it was but it was not the person on the passenger side. But that’s all I’m gonna tell you except that I was not thinking, “Life is so great and love is in the air.”

We hop out and somehow muscle that machinery back in on an incline. Then, since I’d had about as much malarkey as I could stand, I decided I didn’t want to re-enter the cab and was going to walk back to camp. Gar pulled alongside and asked me to get in. I said what my grandbabies say, “No fwanks.” He asked again and I told him, “Go hunt.” He did and I power-walked the tundra. I wasn’t pig-biting mad, I rarely get like that, I was just in no mood for tomfoolery. I was trekking at a good clip when I remembered we’d seen a cow and calf moose back by the road. Now I wasn’t so brave and more like, “Gee I’m dumb.” I promise there’s an ending to this story.

The moose remained out of sight, for which I’m thankful to Jesus, the academy and my family for always standing by me. (Am I at the Oscars?)

The only other animals I encountered were cows, who regarded me with awe. A person … walking? Wow. They silently watched as I passed, except one. She stepped forward, apparently to get a better view, then turned with a shake of her head. I heard her mumble, “No worries. Low to the ground, wide in the hips. She’s one of us.”

I walked the 4 miles back in slightly over an hour. We’re still wed. Don’t throw a good marriage out due to a bad moment. That’s the moral of the story for newlyweds. I’m still stubborn. That’s Gar’s sad tale of woe and he wishes he could have a six-month vacation from me … twice a year. n

Contact Trena Eiden at trenaid@hotmail.com.