How Will We Cut The Palm Leaves Now?

Ever have a dinosaur in your driveway? Well, from one who has, let me tell you, it's ugly.

Ever have a hair brain idea? Unfortunately for Juan Carlos and I, we have. Aaaha.

Our story starts something like this:
Friend says "got a old motor home I wanna sell"
Juan Carlos says "that motor home is mine!"
I says "are you sure?"
Juan Carlos says "YES"
Result: Dinosaur in the driveway

Seriously, for those of you who have never had one, it's exciting, the thought of driving cross country, sleeping on a bed instead of a airbed in the beautiful campgrounds of Sequoia, saving money on restaurants by cooking your meals, playing cards at the table while dad drives. All exciting thoughts. And thoughts are all they ever were.

2 years later, our motor home vacation dreams are still pending while I have to run outside to the curb to see the latest excitement of an ambulance down the street. I cannot for the life of me figure out how to snoop on the neighbors without either climbing on top of the motor home or worse yet, crawling under it. And every week the day before the street cleaner comes we battle for the driveway of the vacant house down the street or get up early Tuesday morning to move our cars. So far, I haven't seen a return on my investment.

So Sunday God clearly sent a drunken angel. No, I'm not kidding. In the middle of a family bar-b-que comes a voice from heaven: Juan Carlos....imagine it....Juan Carlos....it's angelic....it's all consuming....OHHHH, it's the neighbor down the street with the all too recognizable beer can in hand. OK, so it's not angelic, but clearly God was working.

Juan Carlos goes out to the front to see who's coming to dinner and returns with a smile on his lips and a fold in his brow. "Marie", he says, "they're offering me $2,000.00 for the motor home". To which I reply faster than I have ever spoken in my entire life "TAKE IT!". I think I may have frightened him because he jumped back several feet. Honestly, at this point, I don't know who "they" are and I don't really care. I'm drooling at the thought of seeing my driveway again.

Well, it was an ordeal, to say the least. Good part is, our drunken, heavenly friend, wrote a check, hooked up his tow truck and after leaving the motor home in park and partially pulling off the front bumper, merrily drove away to where ever it is angels with motor homes go.

For Juan Carlos it was a bitter sweet ending to our motor home dreams. For me, it was an "oh well" moment. And we will have to come up with a new way to cut the dry leaves off the Palm tree. But just so you know, even angels with beer cans can be a blessing.

Thank you Jesus.