Ambushed...or bushwhacked?

Well, I have to share an interesting event that have happened during the past couple of weeks and provide an update on another piece I wrote...

That’s no bull
I wrote a column entitled “The Trouble with Cows.” It chronicled my husband’s and my adventures locating a loose cow’s farmer. Realizing the guy must have thought I was deranged, I stopped by the farm with a copy of the paper to better explain my sense of urgency in getting him out of bed that night.

He started reading, he started laughing (with me, not at me, I’m sure), then he turned to me:

“That wasn’t a cow.”

What, then? I wondered. I was pretty sure it wasn’t a goat or a llama…

“It was our bull.”

“Well,” I said slowly, as I processed this new information. “I guess I’m glad I let my husband talk me out of going over to comfort her.”

Post-treematic shock syndrome
I’m not very happy with Chittenango right now. I was driving through the village on Route 5 when an enormous branch leapt to its death…and landed on me.

For those of you unfamiliar with Chittenango’s historical significance in the area of foliage, it is the birthplace of L. Frank Baum, creator of the violent trees that attacked Dorothy and her friends in “The Wizard of Oz.”
I guess I should be grateful I wasn’t pelted with apples.

Instead, the branch, with an 8-inch diameter, hit the roof of my car just behind my windshield, scraped its way across my roof, down my rear window, across my trunk lid and down the passenger-side rear quarter panel.

I had the presence of mind to not panic and stopped safely in front of Tacoma’s Restaurant, where I assessed the damage.

“What happened to your car?!” my husband asked, astounded, when I got home.

“It’s for sale,” I responded.

I can’t figure out if I’ve been ambushed or bushwhacked, but I’ve developed a nervous tic now, and every time I see a tree, I curl up in a fetal position. This is not good for two reasons: first, there are a lot of trees between Cazenovia and Chittenango, and Cazenovia and Canastota, and Cazenovia and Oneida, and…you get the idea; second, it is difficult to drive safely when you are huddled in a ball beneath your dashboard.

Reprinted courtesy Eagle Newspapers, Syracuse, New York.