Not enough sand.

Remember that little fender-bender I had Tuesday morning? It took place in Roanoke Rapids, NC, near the Virginia border.

The good news is that the insurance company for the driver who caused the accident has been doing a wonderful job of getting in touch with me, sending someone out to the house to look at my car, and sending me a check, all without my doing anything other than answering the phone. I imagine that the fact that liability is fairly clear has something to do with that. (One lesson I've learned from accidents my cars have been involved in is that, presuming no one is injured, it's great to be the third car in a three-car accident: it's virtually impossible for you to be at fault.) And the check was in my hands by Friday afternoon.

The bad news - well, not so much bad as depressing - is that by Saturday, I had received a letter from a law firm in Greenville, NC (85 miles away from the scene of the accident), urging that I retain their services with regard to the accident. I imagine they're in good shape, if they chase ambulances from a hundred miles away. And they included an out-of-focus postcard of what I presume is the firm and staff, presumably to give the begging a personal touch. Thanks, Kessler Law Firm, I don't think I'll be engaging your services.