Such were the first words out of the mouth of the State Trooper who pulled me over a few weeks ago while back in my hometown for my 20th high school reunion.

Say what? I mean, I’m relieved that I’m not the one you’re looking for, but I’m not sure I can actually feel the relief because I JUST NEARLY HAD A HEART ATTACK!

Please allow me to set the stage here. It was Saturday afternoon. The reunion was later that evening. On Sunday, my family was going to celebrate the birthdays that are in August. There’s about four of them. There were actually six before my grandparents passed away. I know. Something about that time of year. Hmmm…Any-hoo…

My aunt, daughter, and I had driven out to a beautiful place in the country called Mike’s Farm. (A word about this link…if you decide to click on it, you may want to turn the volume down a bit. On the other hand, you may just decide that you need to grab your spoons and a jug and play along. Please tell me someone besides my dad used to watch Hee Haw).

I doubt if anyone reading this would ever be in the area, but if you are, you simply must go. It reminds me of why I love from where I come. I am so a country girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the convenience of living close to a “big city” (where I’m from, Raleigh IS the big city). If you live in Manhatten or Chicago or LA, then, not so much, but you get my drift.

And boy have I really digressed. So, as I was saying….

We were planning to celebrate August birthdays on Sunday. Mike’s Farm makes an absolutely To. Die. For. 12-layer, yes, I said 12, chocolate cake. My aunt had ordered one to serve as the birthday cake on Sunday.

She, my daughter, and I drove out on Saturday afternoon to pick it up.

We decided to take my uncle’s truck. Now, ya’ll (see what happens when I go back to my roots), I simply love my uncle’s truck. It’s a F-250, King cab, burgundy, leather interior, and the works. I have only ridden in it before. But…that day…I got to DRIVE the truck. Oh yes I did! I felt like Dale Jarrett in the UPS truck (and yes, I’m a NASCAR fan, too). Look out world! Get in my way, and I WILL run you over.

Okay, so I’m getting a little carried away thinking about it. Still, I was very excited to be driving the truck.

Actually, I was very careful to drive the speed limit and not get into trouble, which always seems to happen when my aunt and I go out together. That, however, is a story for another time.

We were driving back to my aunt’s house along a four-lane divided highway. I was driving in the right lane and came upon an eighteen wheeler going slower than I wanted to go. I put on my turn signal, checked the mirrors, and then moved into the left lane. When I had reached about the middle of the truck (work with me visually here), I look in my rear view mirror and see a highway patrolman with his lights flashing. I panicked. It was not pretty. I was running the speed limit. But I still had to pass about half of this truck. I said to my aunt, “What do I do? Do I stop? Do I speed up?”

She, of course, had not seen the patrolman and had no idea what I was talking about. My next thought was, “I know I need to get out of his way, but I’m going to have to speed to do it! Ayyyyyy!”

So, that’s what I did. Sort of. I got over in front of the 18-wheeler as quickly as I could and just knew I was going to see the car go zooming past me. But doncha‘ know if he didn’t get in behind me? What?!?

I said, “He’s pulling me over!”

So, I put on my turn signal and pulled over to the side of the road. I rolled down my window. I looked in my side mirror, watched him put on his hat, get out of his car, and walk towards the truck. And that was when he said,

“I’m sorry. You’re not who I’m looking for.”

I said (in my most Southern, genteel voice, of course), “I wuz wunderin‘ why you were pullin‘ me ova’. I didn‘ thank I was speedin‘ or anythang.” (Okay, I’m exaggerating, but it just does something for the story, doncha‘ think?)

I knew there wasn’t anything wrong with my uncle’s tags or something like that because he just isn’t the type to let that sort of thing happen.

The patrolman said, “No, ma’am. You were doing everything right. It’s just that sometimes we have to pull over the good drivers to catch the bad one’s.” Huh?

“I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

“No problem. Thank you, Officer. Have a good day.”

“You do the same ma’am.”

Stay tuned tomorrow to hear part 2. Yes, there is a part 2.

And, I promise to try to post some of those pics. from the NC mountains. I haven’t had time to download them from my camera yet.

Blessings,