Life’s Pickles …
This past weekend I got in over my head. I was preparing the Traveling Writing Room aka GERP for a week-long road trip. Let me stop right here to tell you my set up. GERP is a teardrop travel trailer/camper, a tiny little buggar, so tiny, I am able to keep him in my garage and still have just enough room for my car. It’s a tight squeeze and I’ve been known to drive into my garage and not be able to get out of my car.
The first day I brought GERP home, was my first experience at backing up a 15-ft. trailer. Needless-to-say, about an hour into the learning curve, GERP was finally snuggled in the garage; of course, I couldn’t get my car in beside him because even after all my maneuvering, I still hadn’t positioned the trailer far enough over to the right side of the garage. Here’s something cute, GERP has handles! On the front of him are actually two handles, that in theory, one is supposed to be able to, by hand, position the trailer anywhere you want it. Did I mention GERP, the Traveling Writing Room, weighs 3,000 pounds? I ain’t pulling and yanking that thing anywhere it don’t want to go. Anyway, that first night, the camper was in the garage, the car slept outside, and I drifted off to sleep that night trying to figure out how I was going to patch the hole I had gouged in the wall of the garage. That my friends, is putting one’s self in a pickle. A pickle is a mess you have to find your way out of.
Okay, back to this weekend. GERP was in the correct position, to the far-right side of the garage and politely sharing space with my car. When it came time to hook the Traveling Writing Room up to the car, all went well. I’m now a pro at backing my car just so and hooking GERP expertly up to the vehicle. Words like hitch, safety brake, tow bar, and ‘No! You’re other left!’ are brand new to my vocabulary, but I’ve mastered them. What I haven’t mastered yet, is backing and pulling and backing again and straightening the steer wheeling and then correcting it enough to get GERP out of the garage in a timely manner. When the neighbors start watching out their front windows through a slit in the curtains and those walking their dogs start gathering on the sidewalk, you know you’ve given them at least a 30- minute sit-com. Finally, I had the camper at such an angle it’s left outside panel was only a hair’s width from the wall. Yep, I was in a pickle.
These days when I find myself in a pickle, I call my rescuer, my son, Matthew. He and his family live only a couple of miles from me. I unhooked the trailer and waited for him. With his help, we grabbed those ‘handles’ and together pulled and tugged until we got GERP away from the wall and in a better position to hook back up and take off. Thanks, Matty!
Have you ever been in a pickle? It’s becoming, for me, what some might call a charming personality trait. Matthew’s help the other day reminded me there are those who tend to get themselves into pickles and those who rescue those who get themselves into pickles. And at any given time, we may be one or the other. That’s how God planned it I believe. And He should know something about pickles and rescuers, don’t you think? People need People, plain and simple.
By the way, this time I did not leave a gaping hole in my garage wall; but if anyone’s interested in a squished metal trash can that would make some dandy yard art, for free, give me a call.