Amber vs. Ditch: The First Time I Got Towed

Another lunchtime post. This one will be less philosophical than last time. My brain can only handle so much deep thinking before I get overwhelmed.

As most of my friends are aware, I work an office job for a family-owned business. This business's office is located on the family's property, in a building 1/4 mile from the house and the only available restroom. (I quickly learned it was a bad idea to have milk or smoothies for breakfast.) During the summer this distance works to my advantage because I get a 1/2 mile run in on my break. With the arrival of winter, however, I've started driving to the house instead of risking the cold and ice.

The driveway is paved, but thanks to 12-odd feet of wetland in the way it was not built in a straight line. There are three significant curves in that 1/4 mile, with the one closest to the office being the worst. 

Some of you can see where I'm going with this.

Per usual, I took my car. Coming back I hit the last turn too tightly and slid right off the edge of the drive. I didn't even have a chance to try and correct before I was sunk.

Commence 5 minutes of trying to rock the car. This only got me in deeper. I jogged the few hundred feet to the office and grabbed some cardboard to stick under the front tires. This didn't work. So I called my boss. "Hey. I'm stuck in the ditch off the drive."

She said she'd be up with her truck as soon as she finished her work.

Did I sit around to wait? No. I thought I'd give it one last try on my own. Make things a little easier for the truck, you know? After all, I'm a Royce: I can fix anything with enough sheer determination.

Many of you have seen that my driver's door is something of a mess from my wreck last March. Before that unfortunate left turn, the door handle took some work to open. Now it takes lots of leverage and jiggling, especially in the winter, to work at all. A lot of the time I'm climbing over the passenger seat to get in.

I had gone into the ditch passenger side-first. Gravity pulled my driver's door down and I couldn't work it open from that angle, so I climbed through the passenger side. I tried once to rock the car and gave up. And climbed through the driver's door. And didn't check the locks.

I kicked at some snow around the tires and decided I should quit while I was ahead. But when I went to open the door to turn off the car, I discovered it was locked. Ok, fine. Wait. Not fine.

Peering through the window, I realized the passenger door was locked. In my frustration I probably tripped around the snow and tree roots to test it.

Yup. All locked except the one door I couldn't muscle open.

I debated for a good 3 minutes before I called Mom.

"My car got stuck in the ditch at work and I can't get the door open. It's still running."

And then I lost it. I'd been laughing at that point, but you all know what happens as soon as you call Mom: the lost, helpless child in you comes out.

Thankfully I didn't collapse in hysterics in the snow, but I did cry.

Mom said she'd be up in a while with the key. I went back in to try to force down some of the lunch for which I now had no appetite.

Before Mom arrived, my boss came up with her truck. I had left her a message saying to hold off until Mom came and we could get into the car, but she hadn't got it.

To condense, Mom arrived, got the driver's door open before she even tried unlocking and climbing through the passenger door, and we tried pulling out the car. My rear bumper (y'know, the one held together with blue tape?) creaked and groaned, but no good that way. It didn't even budge when we tried pulling it forward, and the truck just spun its wheels.

So we called a tow truck.

It would have been one thing if I had actually been on the road and skidded on ice or something. But at work? One a driveway I drive every day of the week? That's kind of a blow to my pride.

The tow truck arrived a couple hours later. Oh, yeah. When Mom came, she turned off my car for a minute, but upon trying to restart it to get out of the ditch we discovered that it wouldn't start. So Mom told me to test it before the tow truck driver left.

I pointed the man to my car and mentioned it hadn't started last time. He told me to get in and try it before anything else so he could hear it.

The car started up on the first turn of the key.

I wanted to kick that impudent Chevy.

Raising an eyebrow, the man asked if I could manage to steer it as he directed. So he hooked up the winch, waved his hand to indicate the desired direction of the tires, and - with my boss's boys staring as they walked up from school - my car was pulled free.

The man had quoted $50-55 for the tow. When I told him I had a card or $49 in cash, he said the cash was fine, bid me a good day, and left.

I thought it was over there.

Famous last words.

Our driveway at home is prone to snow drifts. I know this because I've nearly got stuck in them several times this winter turning my car around to park it. Sunday night, the drift got the better of me.

Allenna said tight-lipped in the passenger seat as I tried to rock the car. Finally, shaking my head, I told her she might as well go in side. Heather, who had come home first, came out to see what the deal was. Knowing my recent track record with snow-stuck cars, she helped herself to the driver's seat and tried her hand at getting my car out. No such luck.

Then she turned it off while we debated what to do.

My car hasn't turned back on since.

We tried jumping it, but no good. It's probably a starter or something. And since I was half-way through turning it around when it got stuck and then quit, parking around the Royce house has gotten kind of creative. I used Heather's car yesterday because she had off, but now I'm stuck with the van until my Chevy dilemma is resolved.

So that's my life. People ask me what's new, and I shrug and say not much. I'm thinking either people need to stop prodding me for details or I need to come up with something else to say. "I'm writing a book" or "I'm getting a lot of reading in" or "I tried this new flavor of hummus". Anything except, "Nothing. My life is boring and uneventful and not worth discussing." Because then that isn't true.

The Windy City

I've been ready to write this post since last Friday, considering it was about last Thursday. However, life has been busy (we're all gearing up for summer 'round here) and then I was sick, so.... Here it is at last.

My grandma is up (or over?) for a visit. She came by train on Thursday. The nearest place we could pick her up was Chicago. The girls had their final day of classes, but Mom didn't want to go alone, so I said I'd go. After all, I've never been to Chicago.

Good thing I'm a morning person.

Mom had warned me the night before that she wanted to be out of the house by 7:30. I like to have about an hour in the morning to run the morning routine before I leave, so I set my alarm for 6:30. Naturally, my phone decided it didn't care about the alarm. I jerked awake just before 7:00 and truly hit the ground running.

I skidded to a stop when I came upon Mom still in her robe and making breakfast. She'd abandoned her ambitious plan of leaving so early. Fine by me.

I think we left around 8:00. I had a book, my notebooks, and a bracelet I've been braiding since last summer. I always bring lots to do on road trips, though I rarely pull any of my stuff out. (And it had hit me only the night before that'd we'd be driving the equivalent of a usual road trip.)

Mom needed to run by the ATM before we headed out, but the one in town was out. Mom said we'd find one on the route, and off we headed.

We had our old GPS set and ready to go. Perhaps we should have considered a back-up plan, but of course we didn't. About 2 hours into the drive Mom pulled off the highway and set the GPS to find a bank. Turns out the bank in the GSP's system no longer existed, and I'm sorely lacking in navigational abilities. We ended up getting lost in tulip country before Mom got us sorted out.

After that, we grabbed a drive-through breakfast at Starbucks (the only thing on their menu I care for are the muffins) and made a couple pit stops.Then it was smoggy skies all the way to Chicago.
I know understand why J. R. R. Tolkien named his dragon Smaug (and the following links have no relation whatsoever to Chicago).
Whenever we travel back west, we always see who can spot the capital building first. This wouldn't work too well for Chicago, even if your landmark of choice is the Sears Tower. Not that Mom and I could have spotted that anyway....
We hit the traffic and had to fight our way across five lanes to get to our exit, after sorting out the detour because our original exit was closed. And dear old Gladys the GPS wasn't helping. She kept shutting off. When we finally did get into the city, we circled around trying to find Union Station and then the parking garage. Then we had to find a parking spot in the garage and wonder about what we were supposed to do with our ticket.
We were a few hours early and spent that time, after finding the gate Grandma was coming in on, wandering the streets and gaping like true tourists (though penniless tourists.) Pretty soon my pocket notebook was out and I was scribbling and walking at the same time. (Which makes my writing more difficult to read than normal, but still.) In the few square blocks we wandered (didn't want to be too adventurous and run out of time) we could almost always hear a street musician playing his saxophone. He had a diverse, if kind of limited, repertoire, including "If You're Happy and You Know It", "Baby Mine", and "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things". I marveled over the old, distinguished architecture mixed with the sleek and modern. Mom  tried to come up with an onomatopoeia for the sound of cars going over a lift bridge (or whatever that's called). The din of the city - car horns, murmured conversation around street cafes, the PA system from Union Station - mingled with the less-than-clear air gave me a bit of a headache. Or perhaps it was my habitual self-dehydration?
At one point early in our amble, some sort of white blobs hit us. Mom cried rain and I cried bird poop, and we duck-n-covered. I examined the moisture on the ground and couldn't quite identify it. Mom looked up. "Oh. Window washers." We'd been so lost in our site-seeing that we hadn't even noticed we'd walked right beneath a lift crawling up the side of a glass building. Someone somewhere had to have been chuckling at us.
We mmmmed over the variety of restaurants, though we ended up stopping as good ol' Mickey D's for lunch. Then we settled on a stone wall to munch, within sight of the saxophone player. It started spitting rain, and he started up "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head".
After that we wandered a little more. I wanted to see "the Big Bean", but it was too far away for us to safely walk, enjoy ourselves, and come back in time. Instead we explored a few more blocks. I wondered vaguely about the location of the Sears' Tower, but we couldn't spot it.
Mom stopped to get a picture of a big metal globe in front of one building. I noticed a man dressed up in a fancy suit with a hat kind of like a chauffer's standing outside the building talking to people. As Mom and I continued past him, he asked us something about a Skydeck. Not sure what he was talking about, Mom shook her head and we continued on. As we passed the main door of the building, I noted the name "Willis" over it. (Anyone who has been to Chicago or knows anything at all about Chicago is probably rolling their eyes. We don't make good tourists.)
Soon after that, we headed back to Union Station, where we got a snack as Cinnabon. (I know. We went to Chicago and all we ate was McDonald's and Cinnabon.) Then, thinking we didn't have long to wait, we wandered down to the gate where Grandma was coming in.
Turns out we had to wait for nearly an hour more. We found an underground path to the parking garage, which meant no crowds to deal with and a more direct route. Then we waited. In that time, we saw a number of curious (and in one case suspicious in a stalker-way) characters coming and going. That was almost enough amusement for me, after I toned out the automatic voices declaring "Gate 12", "Gate 14", "Gate 16", and so on, non-stop.
Grandma's train finally arrived, and soon we hugged her hello and got her bags. Then Mom had to deal with an impatient lady as she tried once again to learn what she was supposed to do with her parking ticket. Then we headed off. We made a stop at an automated machine to pay for the ticket and then loaded up. (And I noted that the government vehicle we'd parked next to was still there.) Turns out we could have paid for our ticket at the exit. Ah, well. We tried.
As we were leaving, I commented that we had never seen the Sears Tower. Not even sure what it looked like, I googled it on my phone. Oh.
"Mom. It was the one with that big globe outside that you took pictures of." Yeah. The one with the Skydeck. Turns out it was no longer called the "Sears Tower", but the "Willis Tower".
To be fair, it didn't look that big standing at the base of it. I turned in my seat and squinted at the Chicago skyline. Yup. That big brown one there, so obviously taller than all the rest. We were right there and didn't even notice.
The ride home was pretty uneventful. Supper at Panera Bread (I've never been) and then quiet conversation for most of the drive. I fell asleep at one point, jerking awake when Mom slammed on the breaks as a deer crossed the road. We got home late, and I was forced to sort out my sleeping arrangements. Mom and Dad get my room because Grandma has theirs. I was going to bunk with one of the girls, but neither really wanted me to (mostly on account of my dog), and me not liking the idea of having to sneak around in the morning because they sleep later than me. I spent that night on the couch, and now I'm in the office, my mattress atop the uncomfortable hide-a-bed. It works. I guess.
So that was our trip to Chicago. I reaffirmed my dislike for big cities. Also, after Nashville and now Chicago, I've discovered that big cities never look or feel as big standing on their streets as they're made out to be. But it was an experience. Now I can say I've been there.
For Doris Day fans, this is the song stuck in my head all that day: Windy City.

Full Day

Today has been a long, though wonderful, day.

It kind of started around 4:30 this morning when I woke to Sasha licking my elbow. Still not sure what that was about. I actually woke up around 7:30 and was downstairs in time to say good-bye to Dad. Then came a few quiet hours shuffling around the house before Mom, Wes, and I headed out to run errands. We dropped my car off to get some work done, then went to a couple stores, a rummage sale, and a restore before picking up my car. We came home with a stove, a mattress for Wes, a kiddie pool (for the ducks), and some books and clothes for me (old hardback copies of Charlotte's Webb and Black Beauty). After unloading, Mom and Wes went back out and picked up a new bed for him from some friends.

The chicks and ducks were put outside for the day. They didn't wander very much, but they really enjoyed it once they got used to it. I found that the best way to get an accurate head count is to count by breed: "One Bantum, one Brahma, two Leghorns, four Americaunas, etc."

Then Wes got my bow (which I got a couple Christmases ago) and set up a make-shift target along the house. Turns out I can't handle a bow with a draw weight of 40 pounds. But I didn't break anything and didn't hurt myself = success. I was given instructions to practice drawing, starting at 10 reps a day, and build up my muscles (and I actually do have muscles now that I've graduated from home-bound homeschooler to working single).

It being the first truly nice day in the last couple of weeks, I decided I should take Sasha for a walk. I haven't been to the park yet, though Mom and the girls have gone a number of times. Heather and Hershey came along with us.

I was wearing a work-out tank and yoga pants. And was warm.

We didn't walk long. Heather suggested a jog, but that lasted no time at all before I started cramping up. And Sasha has two speeds: waddle or galumph. But it was fun. And, for the first time this year, I turned on the air conditioning in my car. (I'm so glad I have a car with AC!)

Home to cleaning, reorganizing, and playing with the fowl. And I managed to assemble a little shelf for our DVD's almost all by myself. I let Mom handle the nailing at the end. But yay me!

Then a friend stopped by so she, Heather, and I could run through a practice for a rather impromptu special for tomorrow. We've sung the song before, though it was a while ago. We had a recording of the music from the pianist at church, and we tried practicing with it playing on Dad's computer. However, the speakers weren't nearly loud enough, so we ended up moving to the friend's car to practice. Whatever works, right?

Around the same time, Allenna returned home from a couple days with some friends, bringing yard sale loot with her.

More cleaning, alphabetizing DVD's (how long with that last?), supper, and reorganizing. The fowl are now in the garage. And boy was it fun rounding them up! No wonder chicken chasing* is a game in some rodeos! The Polish especially, though some of the smallest, are crazy quick. And turns out possibly 5 of our 6 Buffs from the second group of Buffs are roosters. Yay.

I was kind of hoping to do nothing today (the last few days have been kind of stressful, for some reason) but it turns out this sort of activity was just what I needed. Maybe it was all the fresh air and going barefoot? All in all, a beautiful, enjoyable day.

Mom's been working in the dining room for the last week (or few weeks) painting, including the table. Now things are finally back to some order, and it's looking amazing. I love having a separate, good-sized dining room!

Well, I think Dad got a movie, so I'm signing off.

 

*Look! The chicken with the blue lei in that picture is a Polish!

Just "One of those days"

You know "those days" you have sometimes? Where it's just one thing on top of another, and eventually you either go to bed early or brace yourself and ask, "What's next, while I'm ready?"

Yeah. I have plenty of those days. Sometimes I have those weeks. Once, I was convinced it was one of those years.

Usually, "one of those days" is Thursday. Don't ask me why. Last week, things kept building up. Not dangerous or even directly impacting us for the most part. Just things like having to stop at the gas station more than twice for various reasons, seeing emergency vehicles and accidents all over the place...that kind of thing.

Today was "one of those days". Big time. (Okay, maybe that's hyperbole....)

Whenver I need to be up and moving by 9, 8 always seems to come too early. I go through stages; sometimes I'm happy to be up by 7, and other times I'd rather sleep until 9, despite the fact that I always go to sleep about the same time. Maybe it has to do with the weather. It's been getting colder and it's also been rather rainy lately.

In any case! I had a slow morning where I shambled around the kitchen, took a shower, and almost waited too long to leave for work.

Work itself was fine. Actually, the poor weather didn't discourage business very much. Twice in five minutes the electricity blinked off. Wasn't that fun!

After work was when things really started happening. Nothing huge, like a car wreck, but the little things that build up until I'm like, "Okay, really? This too?"

Mom had me run home to grab something and drop it off at the church for her before I went to babysit. Sasha and Hershey thought I was home for good, so when I ran them out and then went toward the door, they freaked. They make me feel like such a horrible human.

So I ran to the church, dropped off the stuff, and climbed back into the car. Moving around, I knocked the steering wheel thing (you know, the thing to which is attached) and suddenly the hazards were flashing. What?

And what do I do? I start slapping at the steering wheel trying to turn them off, of course. The button is on the top, so how I turned on the hazards in the first place is anyone's guess. Meanwhile, I was running short on time to get to babysitting, which only made me more frustrated. Commence grumbling/shouting in the harshest words I can manage. (Which aren't much beyond "stupid", but still sound severe in a low tone.)

Finally, I realized I was trying to move the little switch in the wrong direction. Without knowing it at first, I nudged it in the right direction. It took me another 30 seconds or so of unintelligible muttering to notice. Then I was off.

When I got to the house where I babysit, I was in a rush and didn't make sure the seatbelt retracted. (It has an issue and likes to droop where the driver leaves it.) I shut the door, seeing as I did that it would hit the seatbelt but not much caring. Smooth, Amber.

Babysitting didn't last long. When I arrived, the kids were having nap/quiet time, so I did  little writing. When they woke up, we read some, played some, ate some, and then I was off!

I had to run by Wal-Mart for dog food, because we were completely out. (It's like Sasha knew I gave her and Hershey the last of it this morning, because she devoured it in near-record time.) Wal-Mart is only about five minutes from where I babysit, which is good. About half-way, I noticed a windy sound coming from my door. I hit the lock button, but had a feeling it didn't matter. I would have clung to the door, but I was driving 30 MPH on one of the most winding sections of road in this city.

And then, right on the curb, the door started to open.

I'm proud of my level-headed reflexes in situations like those. I caught the door, tugged it closed, and gripped the wheel with my other hand. Wal-Mart was in sight!

There's a sort of turn lane into the parking lot, angled and with a sharp turn. Here my door pulled as if to swing open again. I got through the turn and stopped to try to close the door. It wouldn't close.

I hunted down the closest parking spot (well, sort of, because I wasn't parking in the sticks) and turned off the car, then confronted the door.

I had some vague memory of this happening before to Heather's car when the seatbelt gets caught in the slamming door. I knew the latch needed to be fixed, but I couldn't do it. So I called Mom. She was also at Wal-Mart!

However, my loving mother who never fails to encourage me to do things on my own told me to take care of it myself. Yeah. Love you, too.

There was a guy who had walked to his car, parked next to me, about the time I pulled in. He was sitting in it, probably waiting for me to deal with my issues and move. Admittedly, I made a bit of a show of grumbling at the car while I knelt next to the door and tried to fix the latch with a key. Eventually, my damsel in distress act worked.

"Are you having a problem with your door?"

Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes!

Of course, he fixed it with no issue, and behind him I'm fist-pumping in joy. I thanked the man profusely and skipped off to get dog food.

I'll admit: I thoroughly enjoy the occassional reminder that I'm the "weaker vessel" and deserve a little sympathy, a little patience, the door held open, and to go first in line. Why would any girl want any less? In moderation, of course, but it was just what I needed to help me cool down after the frustrating door issue.

I called Mom just before leaving to ask her something, and she told me to take the back way home like normal because there was an accident near the other way out of the mall area. I soon saw proof of this when the winding-most road in the city was backed up with traffic. Thankfully it cleared quickly, because I hate leading a pack of cars driven by frustrated drivers, and that's the situation in which I temporarily found myself.

Okay, so now that I've reviewed it all, I guess it wasn't truly "one of those days". Maybe it was more like a "you had to be there" kind of day?

One more thing. On the way to Wal-Mart, before I really noticed the door issue, I saw a little toy monster truck sitting right in the middle of the road. My immediate reaction was pity for the poor little kid who lost their toy car. That kind of thing (abandoned objects in strange places) always makes me wonder how they came to be there.

Taking the Adventures as They Come

Our parents raised us to be fairly self-sufficient. We've always done chores, worked for most of our spending money, knew how to entertain ourselves, and learned through living. Life was the fieldtrip, especially right after the big move 9 years ago.

It's because of this fact, I believe, that I survived yesterday.

The "singles" group at church (AKA "College and Career", AKA everyone out of highschool who isn't married) recently started a Bible study at our youth pastor's house. There's always good food (homemade, not pizza!), and it's normal for some of us girls (young women?) to be called upon to help prepare it.

Sunday night, I was asked to bring potato soup, because our youth pastor's wife was going to be out of town. I was also told that if I managed to make contact with the youth pastor, he'd give me some money for supplies.

Finally, around 10:30 the next morning, I got ahold of him. He was nearby and told me to come meet him. When I did, I received not only a credit card, but also a list of things he needed for the Sr. High Bible study (he teaches that first and then comes to his house for the singles') and instructions to call one of the youth workers, who recently had surgery and needed some things picked up.

And then Mom needed me to drop off a newspaper. Downtown.

I've never driven downtown unaided. Since my driving test, I've been terrified with the idea. One-way streets. *shudder*

And then I completely shocked myself by successfully angle parking, delivering the paper, and getting out of the parking space and headed toward Wal-Mart, all while going the correct direction on the maze of one-way streets. Score! And also completely nerve-wracking.

The library was on the way, so of course I had to make a quick stop. My sister has been waiting for a certain book to become available. Like always, it wasn't there.

Then Wal-Mart. This where that whole "learning through living" bit comes in. Whenever Mom had the chance, she was teaching us how to do the seemingly little things of every day life, like shopping. And while I was hunting for the things my youth pastor needed, I was calling his wife and the youth worker for their lists (his wife had a few more things I needed to get for last night), and then calling back when I translated "Velveeta shells and cheese" as "Sullivan" something-or-other. Don't ask. This is why I prefer face-to-face.

But I emerged victorious. And got out of that parking lot alive. Then I had to hunt down the youth worker's appartment. I've been there at least three times, when she's had some of us over, but I always forget where it is. I couldn't use my phone's GPS because I was spelling the name of the street wrong. So I called her back again and finally found her. After going 15 MPH down every nearby street trying to see building numbers.

Then a quick stop at the church to drop off the Sr. High Bible study supplies, and home at last to make the soup.

I've only made it once. It's one of those recipes where we have a general idea of ingredients, but mostly we just throw it all together until it tastes good, trusting our instincts about measurements. Maybe one day I'll take the trouble to write some of these recipes down for future reference.

The first time I made it, it wasn't thick enough (and my whole family likes their soup thick). This time, however, I suceeded. I'll be honest: it was one of the best parts of my day. And everyone seemed to enjoy it, which was nice.

Bible study itself is a whole other story I'd rather not go into....

I Almost Collapsed in the Middle of the Road (or: When it rains, it pours, and I can't swim)

Note: the majority of this post was written on Thursday. You may notice I kind of switch tenses near the end where I finished up on Friday because it was very late by the time I got around to writing this.

Yes, I'm kind of attached to the saying "When it rains, it pours". It's very applicable lately. I've already used it once today, on a facebook status, but I'm here to say it again.

As Mom aptly put it: "Well, I'm drowning."

The day started out normal. (Yes, I've had other adventures over the past week, but I don't want to bother with a recap, so we'll go with something more recent.) I'd gone to bed late because I got home late last night after a singles' activity at the youth pastor's house. (My first one, and I never thought I'd go to one. Ever.) So I pushed my alarm up to 7:30. Sasha was already mad at me for not getting to bed until 11:30, but she was ready to go by 7:00.

So I get up, take her out, switch out laundry, wash some dishes, water the garden, shock the pool. Kind of meandering through the morning. Fireworks tents are on, and I've been spending my afternoons there because I'm one of a select few individuals who can run register. However, today is route day, so I was mentally preparing myself for an afternoon where I wasn't sitting around bracelet braiding and trying to convince strangers that they need the $20 buy-one-get-one mortar with a couple bottle rockets thrown in and some smoke grenades for the kids. Fun stuff.

Anywho. Mom was keeping in contact while she worked out who was picking us up and when and all that fun stuff. There's been a lack of communication lately and all kinds of trouble with schedules, so it's been touch-and-go all week. For a while it looked like Heather and I wouldn't be picked up until 12:30. Suddenly, in the middle of my bowl of mac and cheese, Mom's saying someone else will be by at 11:30.

So I rush around shoveling food in my mouth and grabbing library books in case a library run turns out to be possible and taking allergy medicine and feeding the dogs, and then we're off! It turned out to be the youth pastor's wife picking us up, and her four-year-old was along for the ride. We had to stop by the paper to get Mom's papers, and said four-year-old started panicking, thinking we weren't in fact going back to his house but were going to deliver papers. (His three older brothers have routes and he often has to come along.)

Once we had papers, we headed to the tent. Mom was there alone with a few customers. I took a seat and dug through the cooler for something to munch, and made the wise decision of adding a few shots of energy drink mix to my water. (Sounds terrible and alcoholic, I know, but it's actually very healthy and tasty. But it can still produce side effects in some people which are similar to what would happen if they were drunk.)

We were waiting for the woman who was supposed to get us after 12 to arrive so she could sit with Heather, the youth pastor's wife and son could leave, and we could take her car on routes instead of our broken down Beast (AKA Expedition). While we waited, the four-year-old moped about making growling noises and saying his stomach needed food and begging for water and yodeling behind a pile of boxes, and I filled Mom in on the events of the previous night's activity.

I know. Pretty much none of this is relevant, but I need to ramble a bit, Please bear with me.

A couple days ago, it was breezy and cool in the day and actually cold at night. Not today. Almost 100 degrees and very humid, and while the breeze was a few degrees cooler, it didn't really help. I was dreading routes, but wondered if it would be better than sitting still in that big, stuffy tent.

Finally the other lady arrived and Mom and I set out. We had to do things quite out of order because of where we were located in relation to the routes, but it's nice to change things up, especially when we needed to keep our minds off the temperature. We ran the air for a little while, but turned it off so it wouldn't mess with the...radiator? Whatever part of the car has a gauge on the dashboard where the needle should never go into the red area.  :)  Yeah, so it was still hot, but we had a breeze which helped relieve the heat ever so slightly. And Mom was already drenched in sweat, so she didn't notice as much.

We were maybe 15 minutes into routes when Mom saw the steady trail we were leaving on the road, and the puddles wherever we sat still. And then the car started having trouble shifting. In 5 more minutes, we were in trouble, and Mom was headed back to the tent. We got about 3 blocks, stopped and a red light, and didn't move again.

And of course, this city has all those poorly-planned intersections. Just what we needed.

We'd already called the owner of the car to let her know what was happening, and then Mom called the youth pastor's wife. She said we just needed to get it into a parking lot. We were very close to a car wash and Pizza Hut.

Look! A map! A picture on my blog! Only because it is much easier to explain with a visual reference.

The red dot is where we were stopped, right by the light and a tricky intersection. The blue spot is approximately where the Pizza Hut parking lot was located, which Mom figured would be easier to get into than the car wash one. (No, I didn't make the map. I tried, and failed miserably. That was courtesy of Google maps. I just simplified it and added the dots.)

We waited through four or five cycles of traffic signals, with some people behind too blind and impatient to see our hazards on, and some pausing to make sure we were okay. Of course, my extreme caution when it comes to negative roadside situations that have any possibilities of resulting in some sort of accident. Of course, Mom didn't have to tell me to sit still and keep my seatbelt on until our help arrived.

Thankfully, it wasn't the four-year-old but the fourteen-year-old who came along with his mom. And he's not a wimp. I hopped out and got ready on one side of the back of the car, my hands on the hot surface. Of course, I was wearing flip-flops. As the other lane's light turned red, we started pushing. It took some time, but we eventually gained momentum and then I was jogging a bit behind, out of breath and starting to feel asthmatic. We started to pass the car wash and a bunch of men working on the sign saw us and started laughing. I was too busy focusing on not falling down flat on my face.

Thankfully, my youth pastor's wife was wearing a bright pink shirt and her son had a neon yellow shirt on. Me, I was in a thick, dark gray t-shirt. About halfway through, with one hand on the trunk (and that more to steady myself than to keep the car in motion), I was feeling a bit dizzy.

Then we had to get the car up the incline into the parking lot. The youth pastor's wife called out a countdown to Mom, and then we dug in. The car slid into the nearest parking lot, and I went to sit down in the passenger seat. I had that almost cold, wheezy feeling in my throat, so I guzzled my energy-enfused water.

Then we loaded everything up in the youth pastor's van and headed to their house, where we dropped them off and tried to remember where we'd left off with routes.

By the time we finished and got back to my youth pastor's house so they could take us back to the tent and take their van to do their own routes, it was almost 4:00. Papers have to be delivered by 5:00. Of course, their routes are walking routes which they've got down to about 45 minutes, so I had faith in them.

Back at the tent, I moped around drinking water and wishing I had something to do. I made a few sales when Mom ran to the bathroom, even convincing a woman that she needed the $20 buy-one-get-one mortar when all she was going to buy was little things like bottle rockets and sparklers. Score!

It was definitely better to me to be on routes than stuck sitting at the tent. Mom would probably disagree because she was still sitting still the whole time, and then we had to turn on the defroster in the van to bring the heat down in the...radiator?? (Yeah, same thing as the car.) Me, I got to get out and move pretty often.

We made a few sales, but mostly we sat around begging the very dark looking clouds coming our way to let loose with a rain storm so we could dance in it. Nothing happened. There'd only been a 17% chance of rain and thunderstorms.

By 6:00, I was so ready to just go home and take a shower and then do nothing. Wes came to get Heather and I and we had to make a trip to Walmart, for which I remained in the car and sweat buckets, but I was feeling a bit dizzy and wanted to sit down. Then we had to run back to the tent because I'd forgot something.

Finally, home! Of course, I couldn't take a shower yet because I had to be on watch for a pool party. Allenna had a few friends over to go swimming and Mom likes someone outside the pool keeping an eye on them. It wasn't too bad, and I got some cute pictures.

That's pretty much how the day went. For some reason, I still didn't get to bed until around 11:00.

Some times you just have to dance in the rain....

Yesterday was a very gray day. And it looks like tornado season has finally arrived here. I don't mean to say that's a good thing. I'm already enough of a worry wart without tornado season.

Despite the dismal weather yesterday, I was subconsciously determined to enjoy my day. (I say 'subconsciously' because I didn't realize how much I had done to brighten my own day until just now; hence, this post.)

I woke up to the sound of rain, and so determined to skip the dogs' walk. I should have just toughened up and walked them any way. When they miss a walk now, they glare at me for a while and Sasha is distempered all day long.

The day started slowly (I prefer sunrise at 7, not 8, and my brain doesn't work until the sun is up). Eventually, I decided to make scones. I've been meaning to for days, but hadn't got around to it, and yesterday was the perfect opportunity.

The recipe was weird and the dough stuck to my hands like nothing else and I think I made the scones too big, but they were wonderful. Add a cup of mint tea and I was on my way to feeling quite British. There was even a little salted butter left! (Mom's recently made the switch to unsalted butter. I now cannot enjoy toast because I always liked the melty buttery taste.) So I curled up under my fuzziest blanket on the couch with The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and spent the drizzly gray morning in happiness.

Come Bible study time, I was feeling quite perky, even. I considered wearing my rain boots, because all day I had been hoping to find a puddle large enough to splash in, but the boots didn't really go with the outfit, so I left them behind. I kicked off my shoes as soon as we reached the church and spent the rest of the night barefoot. (I didn't even put them back on to go home.)

So I wandered outside a bit with Heather. Puddle! Okay, it was barely a cup of water, but I splashed anyway. And got mud all over my legs. So I went in search of a cleaner puddle to wash off.

I eventually found a really big puddle, ran, and hit it as hard as possible, scaring some of the Jr. High boys and anyone driving by who'd happened to be looking, and soaking the bottom half of my skirt and my feet and legs. 'Twas very fun.

We got subs for supper, instead of the regular pizza, because they were left over from the marriage seminar. Toasted subs with two kinds of cheese and meat, lettuce, onions, and mustard. I even had a cup of root beer. (My first real drink of soda in months.) Add to that our substitute teacher had a great lesson, and I was quite content.

Well, not perfectly. I'd been keeping an eye on Weather Bug since the clouds had been getting darker and learned we were in a tornado watch, and there was a brief tornado warning. That kind of put a damper on my mood.

However, after Bible study when the rain was starting to pick up, we all trooped outside to play in it, and I actually danced in the rain. Despite the fact that there were at least a dozen people watching. (Technically, it was spinning a crazy circle with two friends, but I can't do much else that comes close to "dance".)

Of course, then the rain really started coming down and the lightning and thunder arrived, so I headed inside to mope and fret like I always do at the hint of bad weather. Mom couldn't even come get us as soon as she wanted to because the rain was too bad to drive in. So I waited by the back door and watched the other kids stand outside getting soaked and then squishing and squelching across the floor in their shoes or socks, and I didn't have the heart to join them. (This is not the part where you pity me. This is where you laugh heartlessly and tell me to lighten up.)

But then we discovered ice cream in the freezer. We know it's free for all if it's been opened and used already. Bring out the chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and cool whip! The rain let up, the thunder passed, and things got better.

When Mom arrived a few minutes later, she said the tornado warning was still on. Thanks for ruining it. So we hurried home.

I guess the best way to cure myself of worry is to preoccupy my mind with something more immediate and interesting. So I joined Mom and Dad while they put on an episode of this new TV show they discovered. Zombies. Yup. The perfect way to forget about a tornado warning. (I kid you not.)

Around 9, when Sasha was begging to go out, I was reluctant to oblige. Then I stepped outside and dared a peek at the sky. Stars! All stars and dark sky and retreating clouds!

Lesson learned: stop fretting about what you can't control and make the most of the situation. In this case: don't fear the rain. Dance in it.

A Day in the Life: Thursday

It's Friday now, but it was too late to post this last night when I finished it.

I'm writing this from my new phone! I feel so special.
Anyway, I decided a while ago while contemplating this new blog that I should have certain topics for posts. For example, I've done a few "What I Do" posts about my different hobbies. One of the topics I wanted to try is "A Day in My Life", where I record the events of one whole day. Boring, you think? I'm having fun! (Yeah, I tried the whole swype thing and didn't look back. You were right, Dad.)
So. My day.
I new phone has an option on the alarm clock where I can limit the number of times I can hit snooze or eliminate the option altogether. For my 6:45 alarm for Thursdays, I removed the snooze.Turns out that I didn't really need it anyway, however, because I woke five minutes before it went off.
Pp been struggling with a head cold that has moved into my chest and brought a cough with it. I woke with a groan. Get dressed, eat, play, with my phone, take the dog out, and away we go.
I had missed church last night. They'd had a birthday party, and though they hadn't returned everything to normal, how they'd left it was better in my opinion. We set up tables, and I sat down to do my devotions and writing. I got a call from one of the moms explaining why they wouldn't be here today. She spouted off a lost of instructions and whatnot. At the end, I said, "You do know you're talking to Amber, right?"
She laughed and said she thought I was Mom.
So I returned to this. Heather told me to stop texting. When I informed her I was blogging, she looked at me funny.
The day progressed without incident. Until physical science, I didn't do much. In science, we did two experiments, one of them with fire. 'Twas fun. I couldn't think of any movie references to link to class, so no candy for me. (Mrs. Johnson gives everyone a small piece of candy whenever someone quotes or refers to a science-related movie, because she's just that awesome.)
After that, I ate some yogurt and someone gave me some KFC mac 'n' cheese because it was "too cheesy" for them. Soon, Mom and Dad, who had been working at the church all morning, were ready to go. We dropped Dad off at home, I got changed, and then routes.
Like the past two Thursdays, I bagged everything because it looked like rain, but out didn't until we were done.
We stopped to get the mail, then got the girls and headed home. I didn't do much for a while. Per usual, Jess and Colin came by for a couple of hours just to hang out. Mom made salsa, I made apple crisp, and we sat down to watch a movie.