big truck

So a week ago I bought an enormous white diesel pickup truck. It's so big that it's got footrests to get into it; so big that I can see over those SUV's; so big that it can hold 6 people in the cab; so big that tractor-trailers don't seem very large anymore. Really, it's quite big.

(Why do I imagine I hear all the Europeans laughing at me?)

It's also a stick shift, which is something I'd mostly put off learning when I belatedly started driving around in my compact car a couple of years ago. I practiced a bit before I bought the truck, using another vehicle, and I wasn't entirely confident, but it seemed doable. I bought the truck in South Carolina and had to drive it 200 miles to get home. Somehow I managed this, at night, over the mountains, through fog and rain.

(Gosh, I like to make my life difficult, don't I.)

Once I got home, I seemed to lose what touch I'd had; I spent several days unsure I could drive it at all, not knowing enough to tell if I was just doing something wrong or if it was broken, and very stressed out about this literal white elephant. Today with William's help I figured out that the clutch was leaking hydralic fluid; we fixed this and with the clutch working properly I can drive it again. I'm even beginning to enjoy the perspective.

I'd hate this to be mistaken for an April Fool's post, so I will leave off explaining what I intend to do with a grossly oversized truck until another time.