On Friday night, driving home from a high school graduation, I seriously thought we were going to die. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed so hard in all my life. Kevin swore he could see the road but all I could see was blackness and silver-colored rain sloshing across the windshield. The streets were curvy and dark from loss of power. The rain was coming down in heavy sheets and the wind was blowing the water in various horizontal directions. The roads were quickly flooding and I feared that we would meet our end by hydroplaning into a ditch. When we finally reached the safety of our driveway, it seemed like nothing short of a miracle.
Because of the crazy storm, we lost power for 12 hours. The next morning we decided to walk to town, eat breakfast, and feed the ducks at the canal. Then we walked to the farmer’s market and I bought a basil plant. I’m looking forward to moving to the suburbs sometime soon, but I must confess that I will dearly miss the cute and funky town of Broad Ripple. It has provided our family with lively distraction when needed.
After the farmer’s market Kevin decided to buy the girls (me included) a snow cone. The Broad Ripple snow cone stand is the best one known to mankind. If you request it, they put a scoop of ice cream at the bottom of your cone so it tastes like a float at the end. It was Clara’s first snow cone experience and she went hysterics over it. It’s funny because with my first child I was so much more concerned about sugar during the first year of life. With Clara, all caution has gone to the wind. The way I’m tracking, should God give us a third child, I will probably allow her to chew on suckers in lieu of teething rings.
And on Sunday we took a very leisurely bike ride to Butler University and then back up the canal path along the river. I'm so glad it's biking season again.
And then, there was the fire.
Due to lack of counter space in my small kitchen I often keep cookbooks on top of the burners I’m not using. I guess it was bound to happen at some point but yesterday I lit the wrong burner, left the kitchen to check the chicken on the grill, and returned to find large flames engulfing the cook book. And, yes, it was a library cook book.
Fortunately for me, only the cover of the cook book was melted and the pages are still fine, even if a bit charred around some edges. So, after paying for the book, I will still be able to use it. And I suppose the burner-sized hole on the front cover will always bring back memories.