Archive for October, 2008

Little Red Wagon and Alice’s Golf Cart

Wednesday, October 29th, 2008



            Our parking area for Alice’s car is about 125 feet, up hill, to our front door.  That is a pretty good stroll getting to and from the car.  When Alice goes grocery  shopping, carrying those bags to the house is quite a chore.  Being the great sport I am, I decided to help the little woman with this task.  I bought her a little red wagon.  Now she could load the sacks and packages into the wagon and pull them up to the steps.  Then she could take the food, two sacks at a time, up the steps, through the front door, and back to the kitchen.  Alice did not like that idea much especially after the dogs helped her unload some of the sacks while she was in the house.  A better solution was needed.  I found a used golf cart Alice could afford, and I bought it for her.  Now she drives the golf cart to the car, loads the groceries into the cart, and drives to the back kitchen door, away from the dogs, and unloads them with ease.  I got several “attaboys” for that cleaver move.  In fact the golf cart adds some class to these acres.  I never tell the folks I don’t play golf, and Alice won’t tell, I hope.

            In fact the thing is fun to drive around the place and I have found it useful for many tasks.  Like going to the mailbox, which is a couple hundred yards from the house, at the road.  And I have found it works well for moving dirt and rocks.  I just hitch that little red wagon to the golf cart and away I go.  The grand kids liked it for a while, until they were old enough to drive a car. 

            I try to be around now days when Alice comes home from the grocery  store.  I make it a grand and gallant thing pretending to be of help.  What I am doing is enjoying driving the cart from the car to the back door.  Some times, when I am in a hurry, I drive to the front door, park on the walk-way and carry the groceries in from there.  The other day I did just that.  I stopped, grabbed two bags, and headed for the steps.  I thought I heard something behind me.  I quickly glanced around, and to my horror, saw the golf cart rolling backwards down the walkway and gaining speed, headed straight for Alice’s car. Do you think an eighty-year-old man can’t run?  Hoo-boy, this one did.  The cart was about half way there.  I dropped the sacks and ran just like an Olympic sprinter, and managed to grab the stirring wheel and turn it, just missing the car.  

 I held on to the cart as we made a quick turn, running across Alice’s prize iris bed, and came to rest against the trunk of a live oak tree.

            The doctor says my scraped and bruised elbow will heal pretty quickly.  The eggs and milk-splattered walkway will clean up easily with a little soap and the water hose.  Meanwhile I have had my golf cart driver’s license revoked until further notice.  Alice said I could use the little red wagon.