A week ago we ordered a new dinette set. The chairs to our old set were showing signs of age by completely falling apart one by one. In fact we were down to just one good chair-mine. My chair had been protected from the abuses of those who really needed a ladder but grabbed the nearest chair instead, or thought they were in a recliner when they weren't. But be that as it may we decided to purchase a new set.

Our first mistake was not taking measurements. Our second mistake was ordering out of a catalog. Order we did though and then we waited for our new dinette set to arrive. One week later we got the call notifying us that it had arrived and we could pick it up at any time.

That was our third mistake. Instead of paying the cost of delivery, we decided to pick it up ourself. Or rather my husband who would be out on the road driving decided that I would pick it up. When the call came I stood at the door looking out at his old black pickup in the driveway. The straight drive that no matter how well you could shift you would still grind the gears. The one that stalled at the most inopportune times. The truck whose gas hand did not work, leaving you to guess at the amount in the tank. No, I was not driving this thing. I began making calls and finally managed to persuade my brother to assist me.

Becoming a two vehicle convoy -me, my son and my brother's daughter in my suv and my brother and his son in their truck and trailer- we headed for the store. I knew of a way to avoid the worst intersections but wasn't sure my brother wanted to try and cross the usually busy lanes of traffic to get into the store. So I chose what I hoped to be the middle of worst and best and led the way.

When we arrived and they brought out my table I was suprised to see instead of a flat surface with four legs protruding a flat surface in the form of a box. The table had not been assembled. As it happened I was on the mobile phone telling my husband that we were picking it up and low and behold it was in a box. Not only was it still in the box, the box looked as if someone had issues with it. The box was mangled beyond belief. All I coudl image was that the table inside had to look just as bad.  The store employee that was handing the box down to my brother over heard me and informed me that they didn't put anything together unless it was delivered. But that they could do it for a twenty-five dollar charge. Not wanting to wait on them or pay the fee I politely told the gentleman not to worry about it. We could do it.

He then proceeded to comment on the shape of the box by saying "You know how truckdrivers are".

I looked up at him, straight as possible in the eyes from my position and told him "Yes, I know. My husband is a truck driver."

The look on his face was absolutely priceless. He mumbled something about not all truckdrivers but their truckdrivers and disappeared into the building. We chuckled about that and proceeded to finish loading and securing my new box set of table and chairs. Just as we finished up the man reappeared to ask if I wanted them to put the table together it would only take about twenty minutes. My brother was on a deadline due to work he had left waiting so I thanked him but refused his offer.

Following my brother out of the parking area we made our way home. Getting the boxes off of his trialer and into the house we then sat and talked for a few moments about anything in general.

When I finally got around to opening the first box, the mangled one I saw immendiately that the table was much too small and had of all things a drawer in it. What is that for? A hiding place for the veggies you don't like? Then to further my displeasure, I found that they had sent me the wrong chairs.

Calling the store I was informed that I could return everything as long as I did it within ten days. As I type this I am waiting on the store to open as this time my dad has agreed to help me get it all back. Might as well start their Monday off right with a return immediately after the store opens.

I did learn from this though. When my husband gets back from this road trip and we start over, I will have measurements. I will know exactly what chair I want and make sure the store writes it down correctly and I will not order from a catalog sight unseen.

While I'm at it I'll probably get a step stool and anchors to keep all four legs of the chairs on the floor where they belong.

    I grew up right here in this house on this dirt road.  Because of that, the memories of my youth are never far away. Much to the chagrin of my teenage son who has to listen when I start to reminiscence. Since he isn't here-have I told you about the time that I saved the Dirt Road from foreign spies? No? Then get ready, you're not going to believe this.

It began as just another summer day, not unlike all the others before it. School was out for the summer. My brothers were occupied elsewhere. I was perplexed as to what I was going to do to fill my time when the call came in. There was possible trouble on The Dirt Road and it was up to me to find the problem and take care of it-or them-which ever the case may be.

I knew why they had called me. Besides being the best secret agent type spy they had, I was already on location. That meant they wouldn't have to pull another agent off of their current assignment and possibly move them  across country. So, gathering the tools of my trade I made my way  out of headquarters using the secret spy exit door in the back of the building. Glancing about for any witnesses I slipped quietly into the woods.

The difference was amazing. From the glare and heat of the summer sun into the much cooler, semi-darkness of the woods. My extensive training took over and I was as quiet as a ninja as I made my way. I knew where to place my foot and where not to. I left the spider webs undisturbed as I passed. Gently I made my way, not a branch must be broken or blade of grass trampled.  I knew these woods better than some know their homes. As out here I was home. So quietly did I move that the squirrels and crows didn't notice me as I passed within inches of where they played. 

 I stopped only once to watch a large King snake glide past. Its markings and movement a thrill to watch. Still I did not allow myself to become distracted. The future of The Dirt Road rested on my giving this assignment  all my attention and focus.

Following one trail after another I searched for the possible invaders. A foe here only to destroy what we knew to be good. The peace and tranquility of a land undistrubed for years. The same families living quiet normal lives in the same homes they have occupied for their entire lives.

Nearing the end of one trail I heard voices. Dropping to the ground I was going to attempt to move in closer. Ever so quietly I inched my way across the rough ground on my belly. Feeling neither the sticks or briars, I crept on. So  slowly that my muscles ached from the strain of being held back, I moved. Carefully I edged a high growing stand of ferns out of the way. I had to see if the voices were coming from my enemy. A high bank blocked my vision. Frustrated I eased my way to a crouch.

Confirming that it was not my enemy only the neighbors out for a walk I made an attempt to back away only to be seen. Calling my name they waved and walked on. Knowing I had no other option I meerly smiled and waved back. Operation blown I retreated to make my way back to the Dirt Road Headquarters and regroup.

Note to self....when sneaking about in the woods, in the summer--don't wear a bright red shirt.