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We have an older F100 Ford pickup truck. This isn’t a brag point, it’s just the vehicle we drive.

If you aren’t familiar with this style of truck, relax, close your eyes and envision a gun rack. Slowly let the truck form itself around the gun rack and a tattered John Deere baseball cap in your minds eye. This is one of those machines that if it gets in a serious wreck you just hose the old driver off the dashboard, fix the chrome, replace the radio antenna, and you’re good to go.

Ours is just that kind of truck, sans gunrack (we believe in keeping our firearms out of the reach of redneck teenager social deviants, thank-you-very-much.)

My darling husband is giving me driving lessons in this thing. I see the little white Kias and Toyotas with the “student driver” sign on the top of the car and I want one of those signs– except my sign should say something like “Caution: *You* are my crumple zone” or “WTF!?” or “How good *are* your airbags?”

It’s really nice to see that so many drivers on the road are completely at peace with their maker. Those of us that aren’t quite ready to hear the sweet song of the choir invisible would appreciate it if they’d mind not taking us along for the ride. I’m certain of my salvation and all, but I’ve still business in this life so I’d like to stick around for a while.

Speaking of which, is it a bad thing that instead of seeing my life flash before my eyes I see my unfinished knitting projects? Just curious.