Sorry I haven’t posted in a couple of days. A trucker fell asleep at the wheel and ran into a telephone pole in front of the Tumbleweed on Sunday evening. The phone company finally got us up and running again this morning.

Mercifully, the trucker wasn’t seriously injured, and no one else was involved in the accident. His rig was pretty messed up, though, and he wound up staying at the Tumbleweed a couple of nights while Hank worked on his truck. Nice guy. His name is Ed, but he said everybody calls him Mouse. (I assume this has something to do with the fact that he is roughly six-foot-four and weighs about 250 lbs.)

He kept apologizing to Joey and me for knocking out our phone service and putting ruts in the front yard. I told him I was just glad that he was OK and that his truck didn’t end up in our lobby or anything.

Mouse is from Springfield, Mo., and knows a friend of mine who used to be a dispatcher for a trucking company out there. He’s a second-generation trucker. His dad used to drive for the famous Campbell “66” Express, and Mouse inherited his collection of Snortin’ Norton memorabilia. Joey, who drinks hot chocolate from a Snortin’ Norton mug every morning at breakfast, thought that was pretty cool.

Mouse thought my Firebird was pretty cool. I told him he could drive it if he promised to wait until he got back to his room to take a nap this time. He looked pretty embarrassed for a second, but he got over it when I laughed and handed him the keys. He took it out to Sangre Mesa and blew the carbon out of the engine, which I’m sure it needed after being parked for several weeks.

After he checked out this morning, I found an envelope on the nightstand with my name on it. Inside was an incredibly generous tip and a note promising to come back later this spring and smooth out the ruts in the lawn.

What a sweet guy.

— Sierra


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