Finally ran head-on into one of the perils of living in the country.
Put in a late night Tuesday. Spoke to the Floyd Women’s Club, then returned to the studio to work. Noticed when I was driving back to The Jacksonville Center that I needed gas.
“That’s OK,” I thought. “I’ll get some on the way home.”
Amy called at 11:15.
“When are you coming home?”
Looked at my watch.
The last gas station in Floyd closed at 11.
“Not coming home,” I said.
“Out of gas.”
“I’ll come get you.”
“Not this time of night.” It’s a 38-mile roundtip from the farm and back.