Like a Deer In The Headlight

We hit a deer...or the deer hit us, really. But if this would have happened a second earlier, the results would have been a lot more severe. The deer could have hit the windshield, and the airbags would have gone off and we would have probably gone off the road. Yeah, that's how I try to make myself feel better, by going over how it could be worse. We weren't speeding, and the deer came out of someone's yard at such an amazing pace that we didn't see her until she collided with the car.

I'm so so glad that my children weren't in the car to see and hear that.

As it was, when we finally came to a stop, and I looked up, there was a large white cross and drying flowers there. A man had just died at that spot recently, and his name, as it was written in marker on the cross, was Tommy.

Do they do that all over the country, or is it just in the South? When someone dies in a car accident, a cross and flowers are left there.

Places to hold your breath as you drive by.

Our nearest neighbors both work at the body shop in town where my poor scooter pooter car is now. They told us that our car is the seventh car to come in since last week that was involved in hitting a deer. It's rutting season, they explained, and the girl deers are trying to get away from the boy deers and running all willy nilly.

Our deer ran off, even after flipping several times when the car hit her. I hope that she's alright, but I honestly don't see how she could be.