Part 1:
I did not anticipate buying the house when we came out to look at it. It was at the highest end of what we had decided to pay and, from the pictures, it was unimpressive. It looked better in person though still in need of some loving care. It was a lot of house for the money (we made our realtor drive us to all of the "cheap houses") so we made a bid and bought the house.
I knew the roof was bad and needed to be replaced but I was surprised when, as I was inspecting it the next spring, it started to give way beneath my foot. Knowing as much about roofing as I know about the English Civil War (i.e. just enough to sound like I know what I'm talking about) I repeated that time honored moment between father and son when I verbalized what I had suspected for many years, he knew a lot more than I had given him credit for in the past and I needed his help. The first time he came to see his first grandchild became a work trip to replace my roof.
We took the measurements and did the math and concluded how many squares of shingles we would need. "That just doesn't seem right." He said but doing the math again we came to the same conclusion. I know he was just concerned about spending my money so he suggested that we get a smaller number of shingles and just go back to town if we needed more. I ended up making two more trips to town for shingles. The lesson I learned, just trust the math.
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Part 2:
For years I have wanted a truck but just have not been able to justify the expense. I only really need one a couple of times a year and for each of those times I have found a way to work around the problem. For example, I found a gentleman who, for a small fee, is willing to deliver small bales of hay twice a year, 30 bales at a time. The small extra expenses that I incur from not having a truck do not even add up to the insurance or the extra fuel expense if we were to exchange one of our current vehicles for one let alone if we were to add another vehicle.
Running out of hay this week I called our supplier. He was out for the year and everyone who advertises hay quickly runs out so a new plan was needed. I decided to rent a small moving van, still a lot less expensive than owning, and made a trek to get the hay today. The financial math still firmly on my side I was pleased with my thrift and creativity.
To say that moving vans are not that good on snow and mud would be an understatement. Once the hay was unloaded it took me an hour to get it out of the drive. The truck became stuck 3-4 times and I was constantly rocking it to get it moving. I finally got it out of the driveway though, to be honest, three times I was pretty sure I was going to need a tractor or tow truck to extricate it.
"Experience," I thought as I drove back to the rental company, "would have warned me that this would not work as well as I had originally hoped." The lesson I am taking away, sometimes math does not tell the whole story but must be informed by wisdom.
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Part 3
I was leaving for work tonight and while the snow is melting, making the driveway appear less ominous, the road pact beneath is water logged, making its navigation more difficult. Thinking about the days earlier activities as I walked out the door I told Kristi, "I'm off, if I can get out of the driveway one more time!" It seemed funny at the moment.
Driving down the temporary ruts of mud bordered with snow I began to think of all the times I drove down dirt roads not too unlike our driveway as a kid. Steering out of the rut, as I remembered the experience, made for better traction and an easier to control commute. "What the heck." I thought, so I pulled my car out of the muddy rut and up onto the snow. For a few seconds all the promises of better control and traction were met.
Without warning or time to compensate I was pulled to the right and into the snowbank which has developed over the numerous plowings this winter. My momentum drew me forward and up and over some ice, which has developed from so many freezings and thawings. Forty-five minutes of digging and rocking got me no where helpful, so I had to call in sick to work. Not only is my car stuck but it is blocking the drive so I cannot take Kristi's car.
The lesson I am thinking, "Sometimes the unexpected negates the best of experience." Or perhaps most important, "If something works, don't change it."
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Conclusion:
My muscles and joints ache in that manner peculiar to the aftermath of short-strenuous abuse and I'm trying to be philosophical about the whole days events. What I am realizing is that each body of knowledge is good for its own set of questions. Trust math to figure out how many squares of shingles you need and experience to tell you if you should drive a moving van down a muddy drive. For that matter, I did trust experience to inform me how to get the truck out of the driveway, even when I had given up reason and could only hope that I could get the truck out.
Concerning the unexpected I do not know what to say. Either I can counsel that one learn to accept the inevitability of it or that when faced with a challenge one should trust recent experience of what works over the old experience of what worked better. At the very least the former is a lot easier to practice within the scope of human events. The latter could also stifle creativity and experimentation.
Perhaps I should just listen to the words of my dad who has in recent years become fond of counseling, "Just go to bed. Every problem looks worse than it really is when you are tired." There will be enough time to sort out the lesson of it all in the morning... right after I get the car unstuck.