It Was a Deer, Dear

There's a long stretch of road after you drive through Poolesville on the way to White's Ferry. A few houses line the road, but it's mostly woods; a nice scenic drive, especially on a beautiful sunny day. At night, the drive is a little tougher. Not many lights on the road--actually I'm not sure there's electricity out that way. Some things bother me: the cars in the opposite lane that neglect to switch from their high beams; people who go too slow when I'm in a hurry and too fast when I'm not. And deer who run right out in front of my car!

Last night I came around a corner and there was a deer jogging down the middle of my lane right toward my car. As I hit the brakes, the deer calmly moved to his left and continued down the side of the road. I think he waved at me as he passed. If he'd turned to his right, he would have been sitting in my car with me, at least whatever part of him made it through the windshield.

When I got home, the Missus saw that I was keyed up. She might have noticed that I was squinting my right eye like Popeye the Sailor. "Headache," I mumbled, and explained about narrowly missing the deer.

"Have dinner and then I'll rub your shoulders," she said, showing what a dear she is. Of course she's pregnant and fell asleep before I'd finished dinner, but hey, it's the thought that, well, you know.