When I was ordering my truck in 2021, Suzanne piped up and said, “We’re ordering the heated seats!” I saw no reason to go the luxury route, but it was a must-have for her. I teased her while we waited, and waited, and waited for the truck to be built that waiting for Ford to get the parts for the heated seats was what was holding up the truck’s production for so long—and I’m still convinced it was. If she hadn’t wanted us to order the luxury package, I have no doubt my truck would have been here a couple of months after I ordered it, instead of the 10 long months it actually took to be built. Suffice it to say, Suzanne’s fave things about Abra are the heated seats and the heated steering wheel. I am learning to appreciate the fancy extra heat. As for me, the first time I drove the truck, I had no idea my seat heat was already turned on. Suddenly my butt was warming up. I felt as if I had accidentally peed my pants. It felt like when you have an MRI and the technician injects that contrast or whatever. They tell you it will make your whole body feel warm and might even make you feel like you’ve peed yourself. Yup, that’s how it felt. Wow! Just WOW!
Oddly, my fave thing about the truck so far is the little dial on the center console that I must turn in order to change gears. It’s just so funky. I also like that every person who has ridden in the back seats has commented on how spacious it feels. It seems I can please my backseat drivers without even trying, so maybe they’ll quit trying to tell me how to drive from back there. I also like that Abra gets nearly 30 miles per gallon, which is why I chose to wear my fuel pumps Tie o’ the Day for this selfie. Also, if I’m listening to music on my phone when I get in the truck, the music immediately and automatically switches over to Abra’s speakers. Yup, regarding my Maverick, I’m a spoiled and happy girl. Abra is a valued member of our family.
When I was driving us home last weekend, Suzanne told me that when no other cars are around, I drive as if I learned to drive out in the desert, with lots of space—which, of course, I did. She said I drive like a farmer. She says I make wide turns and I sort of mosey along, mostly in the right lane. I do not deny any of this. When no other cars are around, I tend to meander. But I do disagree with the farmer comparison. I corrected Suzanne: I drive like a beekeeper. Not that it is really all that different from driving like a farmer. But I am proud of my coverall-wearing, bee veil-hatted, apiarian agriculture way of driving. It is part of who I am. Call me a hick if you feel so inclined. I won’t take that as an insult. 🐝 🚜 ⛽️ 👩🌾
NOTE: Unbeknownst to me, even as I posted about our recently put-together banned books puzzle earlier this week, yesterday I saw an article in this week’s Millard County Chronicle Progress about a Millard School Board meeting where there was talk of banning certain books from the Delta High School library. I was disgusted. My next post will revisit the consequences of book banning. It is, believe it or not, a matter of life and death: kids can literally die when so-called “bad” books are made unavailable to them. And that is not an exaggeration. Stay tuned for a difficult fact or two, as well as some personal anecdotes I never planned to divulge. But it’s time for me to do my tiny part to help defend books.