Fireworks Behind the Next Hill

After receiving a flurry of concerned phone calls and e-mails based on my last post, I am compelled to report that the knee is better. It bends. It moves. And it’s starting to speak in haiku. Who knew being able to sit down on the toilet without having to do a mad duck dance would be so gratifying. (Hurt leg straight, other at an angle, one hand on the pedestal sink, the other on the toilet seat, now drop.)

In other tales from the crypt, our ‘winter storm’ from a couple of nights ago plunged our world into darkness. It was only 30 minutes before we would have taken the plunge ourselves — but still. Hubby grabbed candles. I grabbed the Crackberry. “What are you DOING?” “Internet access. Duh.” “Uh, what about seizing the moment? Didn’t you say you just saw fireworks?” Well, yea. But they were proceeded by a loud boom and then everything went dark. And with the transformer being within sight of our front window, it was actually a little unsettling. Just the kind of thing to send me straight to the Internet. To reassure myself that all would still be right with the world. I’m just a hopeless romantic.

Once that was settled, we’d been asleep for a good 4 hours when I woke up to crying. (No, it wasn’t the hubby.) And it wasn’t Beanie either….Miss 6. She’d woken up confused and scared by the lack of nightlight, butterfly lights under her canopy and noisy thing. (The cacophony necessary for a 6-year-old to get her beauty rest.) Then, in her state of disconcert-ment, she’d gotten up to seek rescue only to discover that she couldn’t locate the doorknob in the darkness. Tears ensued. Loud 6-year-old tears.

She was temporarily comforted by a real family moment at the front door watching the incredibly loud power truck try to access the problem. In the middle of the night, all those flashing lights piercing the darkness just give you a warm fuzzy.

Thus, rescued and safely ensconced in the parental bed, Miss 6 proceeded to spend the next two hours wiggling, scratching, touching my hair, talking, shaking, complaining of itchiness/hunger/thirst/cold/heat/belly pain/repeat. When those lights finally flickered back to life, the relief that descended upon our house was palpable. “Okay, back to your bed!” the hubby said with near hand-clapping glee.

And Beanie slept through it all. Little muffin.

TODAY’S THEME SONG: 99 Problems. Jay Z. “I got 99 problems, but a b**ch ain’t one.” That’s for sure…

BLOG NEWS: I am SO far behind in the blog world, but today I discovered a hilarious one that’s been around since 2004 (or longer)…she’s an award-winning blogger for her writing AND she's a gal from Tennessee… Check out DOOCE. Funny stuff. And the best part? She makes her living doing just that. Blogging. Who knew?