November Days

   

     Have I mentioned how I love November?

     The summer months kind of blend together in one big long stretch of work and play and non-stop action, and then comes along November -- that bronze, dignified month that brings rest and cold and envelopes you like a big warm fuzzy blanket.

     We often get Indian Summer days in November, like this one; I was riding my bike in just a thin shirt, no jacket. Last year I was barefoot at this time. It's like one last taste of freedom before a cold front sets in and drives us inside.

    Speaking of driving (well not really)....Last month I bought a truck.

     

There it is!

     It's the smallest truck you ever saw. It's twenty-seven years old and it was originally owned by an old man in Virginia, so I'm calling it the Virginian. (Which is a good book, by the way.) My dad and I found it almost on accident and the way it worked out was super unexpected, but it's a good little truck and so far it's served me well. It's an '89, so it's a stick-shift, and I'll tell you -- learning to drive stick was the hardest thing I've tried in a long time. I don't even know why it was so hard; but I think it was because everyone told me it would be easy and then it wasn't, and when I couldn't do it right off my pride was just about crushed and I didn't even feel like trying. 

     One night I was trying to get the hang of starting and stopping it in our driveway and I kept stalling it, so I just gave up and laid down on the seat and cried. That night I felt worse about myself than I have in a while. That's how I am, I'm noticing more and more -- when I can't get something right off I get so frustrated I can't even think straight. It's pride, I know, and it's bad. This little truck crushed my pride. But my teachers were patient. And then I turned the key again and tried once more, and it got better. And you know what? They were right. I did get the hang of it. And when I drove it to my grandparent's house Hallowe'en night, I had hope again; and the other night when Sadie and I rolled into the rodeo hall parking lot going to a dance in our little red Ranger, I felt so proud, a wholesome kind of proud, and it was all worth it. That darn little truck.

     Owning a vehicle makes me feel more like an adult than maybe anything has before. I'm surprised how much I like it. :-)

     ...Not that I'm too adult yet. I spent most of Saturday sitting around talking about movies and I still sing Veggie Tales songs and the other night I played a human version of PacMan, so we've still got a ways to go.

    What do you love about November?

    Do you drive a stick-shift?

      ~Emma