So one morning it was a snowing and a true white-out. Victoria just had to go to work to wrap up a project, so I went out to start the 4-wheel drive truck and pull it from the barn to the house so she could drive to work. Now, I should tell you, that we live on the side of a mountain and there 'ain't no level parts in these parts'. Needless to say, on the way from the barn to the house I slid off of the iced driveway and over the embankment into a very large oak tree, severely sideswiping one entire side of the truck. I stepped out of the truck, threw my hat in the snow and said a few choice words. Then, I did what every self-respecting man would do....I pulled the truck out of the ditch and back onto the driveway, parked the dented boy, and left it warm up. I walked the wife down to the truck, helped her in, said 'Be careful goin' down that steep driveway', and kissed her goodbye.
As I stood there are watched her go over the hill, I can even remember saying to myself - "Victor, what the hell were you thinking, this driveway is pure ice...?" Too late......All I heard was a horrible crash and all I saw was the snow shaking off of the trees down the holler as the truck skidded right off the hill and slammed into the thicket.
Well, Victoria was OK but the truck....Oh the truck. (Would you believe that the insurance company told me that was two separate accidents and two separate deductibles???) Anyway, that is how I almost killed my wife. I have learned to be much more responsible with her. Me...well that is another story...
