Yesterday, Ian and I helped with a live nativity scene at my cousin Brenda’s church in St. Louis Park, a suburb of Minneapolis. I hauled about 40 bales of straw piled and strapped in the bed of our blue Chev truck, while Ian took the trailer over to collect 2 llamas and 2 sheep and their 2 owners. Straw piled high, I began my trek to the church around 11 a.m. and hadn’t gotten five miles from home on highway 65 headed south when a bale or two wiggled loose and toppled three onto the road. I saw this happen in my rearview mirror, pulled over immediately, hopped out and dragged bales off the road. Three cars stopped and helped too. I telephoned Ian, who had not left yet, and he came towing the trailer and re-stacked the straw and took a layer of bales off and stacked them in the trailer. Off I went down the road and arrived without further incident at the church around 1p.m.
While the nativity crèche was being built from the straw I went into Minneapolis and visited my Mom and younger brother Matthew. They followed me back to the church, where the parking lot had been transformed into areas that were ready to depict verses from the Christmas story. Brenda had been asking the church’s board members to do this for several years and this is the first year they said yes. It was lovely to see how teamwork was bringing it all together.
Ian went to Harris, MN to collect Robin and Gigi and their sheep and llamas. They arrived at the church in plenty of time to take their places before the drive thru parade of onlookers began at 4. The cast of angels, shepherds, wise men, Marys and Josephs rotated into the warm narthex for hot chocolate and cider, as the temps dipped into single digits. As cars exited the scene they passed a cozy bonfire kept burning by industrious young people. It looked to be a heartwarming success.
While the nativity was open to car traffic Ian and I took advantage of being close to a Fleet Farm store and went to shop, buying among other things 5-gallon heated water buckets for the horses that overnight in the barn and a smaller heated water dish for our chickens.
When the show was over and while the sheep and llamas were being reloaded, Ian re-stacked straw bales and tied them extra tight using bale straps we’d bought at the farm store. It looked to be a snug package on the back of the truck and we were off once again. I was heading north toward home and Ian headed northeast. I got about halfway home when, I think, a bale broke in the stack and as many as six bales tumbled onto highway 65, only this time in the dark! I pulled over immediately, put on the flashers and watched horrified as drivers dodged or hit the bales. THANKFULLY no one was hurt and the light bales were bumped or blown onto the median in less than a minute. I telephoned Ian, who was a good 30-minutes away, dropping off the animals. I limped to a side road not dropping any more bales and waited. Soon a county sheriff's deputy pulled up. Deputy Franklin asked if I was OK and asked what had happened. I told him about the live nativity, that I was about halfway home, that Ian was coming with the trailer and could put bales in there. He took my license and insurance info telling me that one of the cars that hit a bale had caught on fire and was at a gas station just down the road. Its front grill was melted and it was being towed. The deputy let me know that no one was injured but that there would probably be a claim to my insurance company. He looked at the straps and said it was apparent that the bales had been tied down very well and that this was truly an accident. He did not ticket me, but asked that I wait where I was until Ian arrived. So, there I sat listening to a book on tape or talking to Donna on my cellphone until Ian arrived with a warm hug. We stacked the bales in the empty trailer and headed home. I emailed my insurance agent and we’ll see what happens regarding any claim.
Yesterday was a long day and our bed felt particularly good last night. This morning we awoke to a covering of snow! Everything is white and looks clean.
E-I-E-I-O
