How is this possible?

Remember that song from "Cinderella" - (singing..."Impossible, that a strange yellow pumpkin can become a golden carriage....Impossible, things are happening every day...." singing ends because I don't remember all the words.)

So today was one of those "impossible" days for me! I wake up at 4:45 a.m. (old age sleep disorder is all I am going to say here), do my yoga routine, eat my special food diet, shower and dress in grubby clothes, load Steve's new truck with all the supplies and food I will need for the day. Steve and I drive to the recycle center and they dump a HUGE load of mulch on the truck, Steve drives to Pottsboro, and while he fixes the sprinkler head, I push the mulch out of the truck in 15 minutes or less, I drive him to the Grayson County airport so he can leave for Walsenburg, CO with Mike McCauley, and I drive back to the Pottsboro house and start to work about 10:30 a.m.

I spread mulch on the east side of the house for time, including making the sunroom entrance look fabulous, then spread mulch along the north side of the house, next to the foundation. I weed the west side of the house by the air conditioning unit until 12 noon. I eat my lunch sitting in the truck (the new tenant moved in yesterday and I do not enter the house), then start weeding again by the master bedroom windows. In pulling out the grass roots firmly entrenched in the dirt and never weeded before, I have to dig with the fork, weeder and trowel. Suddenly, there is a SNAKE!

I hate snakes - childhood drama more than once, including a kid throwing a snake at me when I rode my bike past him, the snake wrapped around my bare leg. I screamed as I slammed on the bike brakes and grabbed the snake off my leg and flung it far away. I have always hated snakes and that kid forever! Fortunately, the snake was a garden type, about a foot long, pencil thin. He/She takes off in the other direction, but not before peering at me a couple of times. I had the trowel and weeder pick ready for action if needed. I didn't need it.

So, how is it possible that I can work in the yard, in the warm sun of 80 degrees from 10:30 a.m. until 2:30 p.m. , hauling bins full of mulch, spreading it, weeding, digging, loading branches and debris on the truck to haul to the Plano recycle center, and I don't feel sick or upset to my stomach? Maybe my house makes me sick?

So, after a quick trip into Sherman (about 20 miles one way) to get another sprinkler head to replace a cracked one in the far corner (Dallin - near where you planted the bushes by the neighbor lady's fence), I drove back to the Pottsboro house and replaced the cracked head. Now I head toward Plano, after a restroom stop in Sherman.

I am driving Steve's new Sportrac, not my usual vehicle to drive, on the freeway, posted speed limit of 65 in places, 70 in others. I set the cruise control so I won't go over the speed limit. As I get further south, I have to touch the brake which turns off the cruise, as traffic happens. I am about ten miles north of McKinney when I notice that my speed is up around 70, as I had stopped the cruise with a slowing car in front of me and after they got out of the way, I don't realize I have sped up a little. I immediately set the cruise at 65 and am singing and rolling down the side window to get some fresh air. Just as I top a rise, I see a police car sitting on my side of the road, with his brake lights on. I immediately tap the brakes, gut reaction, and look at my speed - oh, good, I am right at 65. I go past him, and immediately after that, a old van pulls over in front of me, barely missing the front fender, having pulled into my lane too soon after passing. I honk my horn. They speed up and I slow down.

Then suddenly, I see the police car with it's lights on and flashing right behind me. I am perplexed as to why he is pulling me over, but I pull over. I suspect my load of debris on the back has a problem. That wasn't the problem.

An older police officer, probably about my age, comes to the passenger side of the truck. The conversation goes like this - and the question "How is this possible?"

Officer: I clocked you going 83 miles an hour as you came over the hill.

Me: Are you kidding me. How is that possible when I had my cruise set on 65? Did you see that old van pull directly in front of me just after I passed you, almost hitting the front of my truck?

Officer: Yes, I saw that, but I clocked you at 83. Sometimes people are talking on the phone or listening to the radio and don't realize they are going as fast as they are.

Me: I understand. Most people do. I never go that fast. I am scared to go that fast! But I wasn't talking on my cell phone and I didn't have the radio on. I was singing and feeling the breeze because I had my side window down. I had just looked at my cruise speed just before I saw you, and when I saw your car, I looked again and I was going 65 miles per hour. This is my husband's truck and I don't drive it very much, so I made sure I set the cruise. I always set my cruise and I drive this road many times, always with cruise so I don't speed.

Officer: Maybe your husband had bigger tires put on the truck and that would change your speed? Can I see your license and insurance card? Have you gotten many speeding tickets?

Me: No I have not. And no, this truck is new, with the factor tires on it. How is it possible that you registered 83 miles per hour when my cruise setting showed me 65?

Office: I don't know. I am just going to give you a verbal warning now. This will remain a mystery. We don't even pull over people unless they are going 13 miles over the posted speed limits. You watch your speed and have a good day!

Me: (Humbly and thankfully) Thank you officer. I am perplexed as you are!

So, impossible as it seems, and as lucky as I am, I had a good day. I truly "talked my way out of this one."

So, do you have a "story" about speeding, getting tickets, police encounters, strange and impossible happenings. I would love to hear them.