The Wheels on the Buggy go Round and Round and...Kerplunk!

Once upon a time in a far away time, I lived another life. I was Amish. But I was never a good Amish person. I wasn't made for that lifestyle. You know, horses and buggies, confining shawls and bonnets, and outhouses.

Well, to be honest, I never did grow up with an outhouse as a bathroom, however, I had the fun opportunity to use the outhouse at my neighbor's and there was not much more "fun" then to "go" with a slight breeze flowing over my arse. The aroma in that outhouse? There are no words, but as a kid, it didn't really matter what things smelled like. What mattered was the breeze...on the arse.

Shawls and bonnets? There is no blessing in something you have to do. Today when I see Amish ladies and young girls walking around with their big black bonnet and shawl I often pause for a moment and remember how it felt, boxy and confining and scratchy. It just wasn't for me.

Conversely, a horse and buggy were never "fun" for me. I was always tense and frightened around the horses. They were big, one or two had stepped on my dad's toe and he lost toenails because of it, they were skittish out on the big road. For me they were monstrosities, probably next in line to a dinosaur and I wanted no part of them. I remember riding in the buggy with my family as a kid and my foot would be shaking because I was so terrified of the beast pulling our buggy.

As I grew older, got married and having no money (at all) I sat home alone weeks on end, only seeing and interacting with my kids and my books. If I didn't have a new book to read I was pretty much sunk. That is another story for another day. There were times when I had to put my fright of horse on the shelf and actually use the horse and buggy for a mode of transportation because we didn't have money to pay a taxi driver to take me to where ever it was I wanted needed to go.

This day our children were staying with my parent's and I had the morning to myself, it was Fall and there was a need for new winter coats and pants for my husband and son and a winter coat for my daughter, so I braved the horse situation, hitched him up to the buggy, hopped on the buggy...(there is NO graceful way to get on a buggy...trust me.)...and I drove to a nearby town, to my friend, Katie's little fabric store and made a few purchases of wool and denim and quilted lining and snaps and thread and whatever else was on my list.

On the way to the fabric store my drive was pretty uneventful, there were a couple pretty steep hills to maneuver up and down on the way to the fabric store, but to assess the drive in to town, it went well and I was feeling fairly confident about my situation.

After making my selection of fabrics and paying for my purchases I walked back to my horse and buggy, dodging horse poop on the pavement, placing my purchases on the buggy seat, I walked to the neck of my horse, untied the tie rope and backed the horse and buggy up and away from the hitching rail, assuring a cleared distance. Ungracefully, I hopped on the buggy, grabbed the reins, clicked to the horse and away we trotted, through the town and up the first hill. It was a very steep hill, my heart raced a bit, I was always afraid the horse would slip going up the hill and we would tumble down the side of the hill or be tossed from the buggy. Imaginations run deep when you are anxious. (That might be a proverb or a wise saying somewhere, I'm sure I didn't come up with that on my own just now.)

At the top of the very steep hill there was a flat and then there was the down hill that I had to worry about next, the horse had picked up speed, I gathered the reins in a little tighter to stay in control of this animal that I was afraid of and we started to run down the side of the hill. It might have been fun except the next thing I know, there is this noise and there is a kerplunk! and I see sparks and my left front buggy wheel rolling away from my buggy and sparks were flying on the pavement from part of the buggy scraping the pavement. I was terrified and I started to yell and pull on the reins. Next thing I see an Amish lady come running through her yard and the business man beside her house saw what was happening and he also ran to my rescue. It ended as quickly as it began, but now, my foot was shaking and I was frightened beyond measure. The nice Amish businessman found my buggy wheel, did some assessing and told me that there should have been a pin in place to keep the wheel from falling off. He fixed it with a nail in place of a pin, then he helped me gather up my horse and buggy and assured me that I would be able to make it home.

I did make it home that day, but not without a ton of panic and anxiety. That night when my husband came home from work I told him of all that had happened during the day and as I was telling him about the wheel he became very quiet. After I was finished he told me that he had greased the buggy wheels and wasn't sure where the pin went so he pitched it not thinking he might actually need it!

This story has been told to a lot of folks over the years and everyone is completely entertained with the idea of how hilarious it "probably" was to see me flying down the road with my buggy wheel flying off. It actually makes me chuckle to think of it these days, but back then, not so funny.

If ever we did a movie of my life, or a fictional movie that I was a part of directing, this incident would be in the movie. It was a crazy experience, funny, a little bit sobering, left me more anxious about horses and buggies, and I lost a little bit of confidence in my husband, not always sure he knew what he was doing. I've tried not to hold it against him too long and too often, but it does come up on occasion. Wink, wink...we wives know when to use these things when it best suits. Can I get an amen?

See you soon!

Lue