The Trucks

Years ago some friends and I were sitting around a campfire drinking beer and telling stories. A campfire stories tend to do, they drifted toward the supernatural and the macabre. When his turn came around, John said, “The story I’m about to tell is true. It happened up 36 near Brenham, before they widened it.”

“Oh, crap,” said Chris, “Is this about the trucks?”

“Yeah,” said John, “Now shut up before you ruin it.”

“This is messed up,” Chris said, “I remember when this happened.”

“So, what’s with the trucks?” I asked.

“So this buddy of mine works for the Bellville police department but lives in Brenam.” John said as he added another log to the fire. “One night he gets off duty and is driving home. He comes over the hill and has to slam his brakes. Like, he turned his car sideways to keep from hitting the back of an 18-wheeler that was stopped on the highway. No flares or anything and right over the hill in the middle of the road. So Larry pulls his car back around, calls it in, and sets his car back with the lights on to warn other drivers. The ones coming from that direction anyway.

It was a really bad accident. Two semis had crashed into each other head-on. One of the drivers was dead. They think the other one lived for a while but he was trapped in the cab and died before they could cut him out. Both cabs were crushed into each other so badly, burnt and fused together, so that they couldn’t pull them apart. What they ended up having to do was unhitch the trailers and winch both trucks onto a flatbed to get them to the junkyard.”

“Damn.” I said. “What a way to go.”

“It gets worse from there.” Chris said. “This used to give me nightmares.”

“So they got the trucks to the junkyard and everything was back to normal.” John said, “Except that after a few days, the trucks started to smell. After a couple more days, it got worse. Texas summers and all. The guys at the junkyard thought that maybe one of the drivers had had a dog or something in the sleeper. The odor finally got so bad that they decided to cut into the trucks to see what they could find.”

John stopped for a moment and stared at the fire. He lit a cigarette and slowly reached into the cooler for another beer.

“So, what did they find?”

“They found a family.” John said. “Mom, Dad, and a little boy. In a Miata; crushed between the trucks. Somehow the car got between them and when the trucks hit each other, the little car just got crushed into nothing. I mean, you can imagine the force of two semis going opposite directions at 70 miles an hour. They never knew what hit them.”

“Damn.” I said as I lit a cigarette of my own.

“Yep.” said John.

The three of us sat for a while, just staring at the fire..

 

Where have I been lately?

absent

 

I know, I know. The projects are few and far between and the normal everyday chat sessions are getting rarer too. I promise it’s not because I don’t love you. It’s just that…

Well, first of all, I’m in the middle of writing a book. I normally wouldn’t talk about something like this at this stage in the game, but I think I owe my readers and explanation and to say that I sit down and write every night. Whether it’s here or the book, or a feature for Dumb White Husband, or a short story or a forum post or something; I’m getting it done every single night.

Where am I going with this? Well, Sequel and Spawn have been keeping me busy for sure. If ever someone tells you that it’s possible that one plus one is more than two, let me tell you that they are, in fact, correct. Two kids is a lot more than one. Not that I’m complaining, you see, because I enjoy all the smiles and the cuddles and the puzzles and all, it’s just that I only have so much time in an evening to do anything and so, unfortunately, I can’t do everything.

Well, that’s not exactly true. I am still doing everything, just not with the same frequency as I was able to accomplish before.

Just wanted to let you all know that I’m still here and I’m still doing what I do. There is, in fact, a method to my madness and that method is, “Do everything you can. As much as you can, as fast as you can, in the little time you have. Every day.”

So, that’s what I’ve been doing. If you want to see more Scarydad posts, we are always accepting submissions from writers who want to write. I would love to get a few regular contributors if anyone is interested. Hit me up if you are.

And with that, I must go heat up a bottle. Farewell for now.

 

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Spring is here. Or is it?

I think it is. I hope it is. I’m tired of composting expensive dead plants. And that’s what we’re talking about today: the planting season.

Last year I planted some grapes and the vines are busting out all over. I’m not sure but I think I should get some production off them this year. Homemade wine is in my future, and I’ll be sure to share the experience.

I’ve also got various berries coming up so that should be fun.

If you like to grow your own pumpkins, you should get them in the ground now!!!

I plan to plant an elderberry bush in a few weeks. Elderberry tea is what Hershel used to cure the sick in The Walking Dead. Too bad elderberries don’t cure decapitation, right? But anyway, it’s got medicinal properties and helps fight off sickness. Good stuff.

I’ve made many dishes, including Christmas dinner using herbs and spices grown in my garden. We also used Everclear to make Lavender and Rosemary tinctures. The Bride made some really cool bath bombs and scented them with the tinctures.

Gardening is badass and it gives you a chance to get your hands deep into the cool moist earth. You get to see bugs and snakes and stuff. Then you can make stuff with the things you grow. I recommend a garden or at least an herb bed to anyone and everyone. It’s very rewarding, and you never know when you might come across a skeleton or something.

I want this.

41RMWTLNKRL._SX425_

Hello my fine feathered Minions. I realize it’s been a while since we talked. I assure you I haven’t forgotten you. We’ve had a series of sicknesses followed by events followed by very important thing to do followed by hangovers and chores and such. It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s that even the dead have to sleep sometime.

I also realize it’s been a while since I showed you some of the wonderful items that would make acceptable offerings should you wish to please your master. First up tonight is this Badass Tactical Tomahawk. I’m not sure what I might need one of these for, but I figure if I have it and then discover what I might need it for, that’s better than not having it at all.

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