Today I had to travel with the hood up on The Handbag (my Mazda MX5 roadster). The car is small at the best of times but when the hood is up and I am in the driver's seat there is not much room left for even a handbag (hence its name). I set off from Gisborne at 0900. Some 40 ks into the journey travelling down a long straight at 100 kph I suddenly became aware of something large on my left leg by my ankle. Being a sports car one cannot see one's feet when driving at speed without endangering one's self or others. I involuntarily moved my leg and a cicada suddenly flew up and over my leg onto the right hand side door. (The car is right hand drive). Now cicada's don't bite nor do they sting. But with a wing span of about 5cm they are not the best things to have sitting in the car making cicada noises and flying around. The problem was that as this incident occurred I had to slow down into a sharp bend preceeded by a sign saying that there were sharp bends and steep hills for the next 7 ks. And I am supposed to share this fairly demanding driving experience with a cicada which by this time has gone up the leg of my shorts. By definition there is not a lot of leg up which to disappear and I became less than a happy bunny.
As providence would have it although there were no official passing places I came upon a pull-off which had been used for road maintenance and managed to leave the carriageway without doing any harm to my suspension or underneath: sports cars are not generally noted for off-road capability. After a while I located the cicada which had crawled down the side of the driver's seat and managed to evict it from the car.
All in all not an experience to be recommended. However in line with my tendency to play The Glad Game I gave thanks that it hadn't been a wasp.
We may be apart but when I look at the sky and remember that we are standing on the same earth, looking at the same moon, somehow you don't seem so far away after all.
Life isn't about dawdling to the grave, arriving safely in an attractive, wrinkle-free body but rather an adventure that ends skidding in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, totally worn out, screaming "Yee-ha. What a ride!!"
Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… It’s about learning to dance in the rain. (With thanks to shabby girl of A Travelling Fish )
Feeling young is fabulous but growing old is a blessing!!! (A comment on this blog by Jaz of Treacy Travels.)
The trick to pushing 70, GB, is to push back -- hard!!! (A comment by Carol aka Canadian Chickadee)
Like a Godwit I migrate. I live in New Zealand during the Southern Hemisphere's Summer and I live in Scotland's Outer Hebrides in the Northern Hemisphere's Summer (See Eagleton Notes). In both places I also live in Blogland which, for me, is as real a life as any other.
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