Vonette and I struck out for Anderson
Vonette and I struck out for Anderson before 8 a.m. Saturday with Gracie, the happy pit bull/retriever, only because my sisters thought our mother’s 80th birthday was a big deal.
My sister Linda wanted me to pick up my mother about 1:30 p.m. and get her to a church fellowship hall, where celebrants would surprise her. We had it timed out so we’d arrive in time to change into more festive clothes and tell her some lie to get her into the car.
We were heading up Interstate 95 at a pace well below that covered by Georgia’s Superspeeder law but making good time when halfway between Darien and Eulonia, Vonette’s Ford just started slowing down. The motor was humming, but the speedometer was dropping.
We coasted over to the side and, because we stopped, Gracie wanted out to chase a squirrel. I raised the hood and saw absolutely nothing wrong, no smoke, no steam, no terrorist yanking wires. Nothing.
