I'm learning that nothing brings in load offers like a washer full of wet clothes.
We got an offer in the laundromat for a 300 mile run, but the deadhead (meaning empty and we therefore pay for the fuel to get there) was more than half of the paid miles. We politely turned it down.
An hour or so later, another offer came in: Southwest Missouri to South Carolina. Roger that.
We saw two foxes romping across a snow-covered field, and we kept an eye peeled for wild boars, but didn't see any. Just talking about the possibility of seeing one got us started on a Great White Hunter ramble that had Hoss decked out in a pith helmet, khakis with a wide leather belt, and Teddy Roosevelt glasses. I laughed so hard I think I peed a little.
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