She's at it again....

My fave. Made with coconut milk. Found here. 

My friend Bev, that is.

I love this woman to death. You may recall a few of our previous adventures, the most recent involving her detonating a bear bomb in my car.

Yesterday, Bev picked me up bright and early, we grabbed a coffee, and headed into town. Bev was driving her trusty white mini-van. Gosh. I wonder how many hours we've spent together in that car over the years. Most of those hours were spent laughing, I'll bet. 

True to form, we sipped mochas and yakked as we maneuvered our way around town. And true to form, probably covered two or three times as many miles as necessary since we tend to wander a bit. Actually, we wander a LOT which usually is a good thing. We find the darndest things that way.

We did some shopping then decided to have lunch, so Bev pulled her van into a parking spot. One of those long low concrete barriers was at the head of the spot. We were hooting with laughter over something she had said, also true to form, so didn't hear that low, grinding, scraaaaaaaaaping sound...

Yeah.

So two hours later, after we had lingered over our meal and coffee and conversation,  Bev strapped herself in and put the van into reverse. This time the low, grinding, scraping sound was much much louder.

Yikes.

Oops.

Bev threw the thing into park and hopped out. She cautiously peeked around to the front of the car, stuck her hand under the bumper and retrieved a long black plastic chunk of something.

"Thank goodness. It's only this. Whatever this is." She tossed the thing into the back seat and we set off again.

SCRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPEEEEEEEEEE crunch crunch crunch.

Um. Bev? I think there must be something else.....I stepped out of the car and buckled over with laughter as I saw fully half of her front bumper on. the. ground.

"Oh, man. Rick is SO buying me a new car!", was her response. Which made me laugh even harder.

Long story short: Bev had no one available to come and pick us up, so decided that we had to get the van home by hook or by crook. Which we accomplished by kicking the dragging bumper until it became lodged onto something on the frame of the van -- who knows what -- which kept it dangling just above street level. We creeped home avoiding bumps and potholes, which is quite a challenge if you've ever driven I-5...

Girl. Don't bother driving into my driveway, I told her as we approached my house.

"You're just worried this piece of junk will die right in front of your living room window!" she snorted and wiggled her fingers good-bye as she scraaaaaaaaaaaapped her way home.

The thing is, this is not a particularly funny story. But it's amazing how ordinary happenings can turn into extraordinary when shared with a friend, right?

Bev is an extraordinary friend. I'm lucky to have her.