Yeah, My Truck is Dirty.
Sometimes it takes someone else to let you know that you are a slob. I’ve often talked about how dirty my truck is and it doesn’t bother me. I can clean, it but a week later it is trashed again; returned to its cosmic oneness with the things of the earth. It’s a farm truck. I have hay in the bed that has composted and is sprouting young grass spritelings.
The interior of the truck is laced with hay, straw, saw dust, wood chips, crushed stone, manure and other unidentifiable materials which are topped off with a fine coating of dust from many miles of dirt roads.
My wife wanted to join me for the trip up to Jewell to get a load of hay last week. We were about ten miles up Hwy 202 when she started coughing and hacking. It got worse. I thought I was going to have to leave her there and pick her up later in her car, but we found some Windex and paper towels and I cleaned every plastic surface I could find before the return trip home. She survived, but I am now committed to spending a couple hours of detailing the truck, before letting the whole process begin again.