When the two oldest were just little kids, I managed to finagle working four days a week. On that fifth day, I was home, and there was the most amazing noise. BAM! Jolted us, even though, of course, we were wide awake and watching "Blue's Clues" in the living room.
I bolted to the front door, leaving demon dog to fend for himself. Oh, I guess I left the two little ones to fend for themselves as well. Bad parent. BAD parent!
A tree had fallen on a house just one house down from us. It was early. Pete had already gone to work. I want to say it was 7:30 a.m. or 8 a.m. Who cares, now, right?
The tree fell on their bed. For whatever reason, the man had awoken and wandered to the kitchen, where his spouse was. BAM!
They survived, of course. Otherwise, how would I know all this? Oh, and they re-built a monstrosity among all of the gorgeous Eichlers on our street.
As they warn of a big-ass storm coming our way, I look at trees in the back and wonder, "Who will a tree take out?" Not me, of course, because I'm not going to be able to sleep in the next 18 hours.
It's another situation where I realize it's easier to believe in a Higher Power to pray to rather than...nothing. So if this is my last post, okay, that's that. But let this be a warning to you: mind the trees. They are evil.