Today, in the middle of prepping vegetables for pressure canning 42 quarts of turmeric chicken soup, I had to figure out how to pull a transmission (Caleb's) from the edge of the road where the delivery guy left it. Our driveway is 1/8 of a mile long, and there are no across-the-street or next-door neighbors.
I understand people slowing down to see what was sitting next to the road. BUT, the man in the pickup truck who stopped made me concerned for my son's property. I told Caleb if I couldn't move it, I'd sit beside it and protect it.
I don't play the helpless female, and I do love a challenge. "Gotta problem? Yo, I'll solve it!" I'm with Yoda in that there is no TRY. Do or do not. The transmission was going to be secured, hopefully in a way that allowed me to get back to my work. (I leave in two hours to a home I'm occupying for the owners' until Saturday night. The family will be there with me Friday and Saturday.)
Emily, Bethany, and I moved the transmission about a third of the way up the driveway until Joshua can get home and help get it the rest of the way to the house. A pallet, a lawnmower, a rope, a carabiner, and a good dose of female determination did the trick.
