Since you’ve been gone, no wait maybe that was me. I believe I’ve been away for a time. Unlike Alice, I felt myself pulled under the riptide of busy work and never found the white rabbit or any other muse.
Sucked into the overwhelming crush of long hours and too many projects, none of them personal, I had no time, energy or creativity left to write one word.
A generational family trip proved to be the cure. Combine one granddaughter, her mother and me, a grandmother. Allow the mixture to rest until mellow. Toss in a sprinkle of laughter, a dash of high adventure and season well with affection. A change of scenery, an abundance of laughter, lots of companionship and a journey is a sure cure for recovery.
Embarking on a road trip across ten states in five days, we visited aliens in Roswell, slid across blistering white sand in search of Area 57 and followed a trail of crumbs left by Guy Fieri to consume amazing food.
Skirted Heifer
Our final destination, Mount Rushmore. We arrived after twilight, late in the night, while mule deer grazed the shoulders of the winding mountain roads. The mountains, shrouded in the thick night air loomed eerily against the darkness.
As we drove, we played long forgotten car games, naming animals, flowers and songs beginning with each letter of the alphabet. Hotel lights, a beacon, welcomed three weary explorers ready for a warm bed and restful night’s sleep. It was a lovely hotel, but all we longed for was warm and clean. The next morning, we awoke to a crisp 24 degrees, a dramatic swing from the 83 degrees I left behind in Austin, TX a few days before.
Squeezing a trip in wasn’t easy. It took willpower to leave unfinished projects on the table and walk away. The respite was exactly what I needed and I am so thankful I could do it with my daughter and granddaughter. I am rested and ready to reignite.
I may be wrong, but I don’t think we have mass transportation figured out in Central Texas. We love our SUV’s and Ford F150 pickup trucks. They line our highways and tollways, with only a few random “Smart” cars sprinkled in like the toy prize in a Cracker Jacks box.
Austin, TX has a light rail system but it doesn’t run to my suburban area. A commuter bus service picks up and drops off near my home. I’ve often thought I might enjoy catching the bus into town. I envisioned writing or reading a book for the 1 to 1 ½ trip to the office. I was unsure of the bus route, so didn’t know if it would be convenient.
I never got around to checking the route or the schedule but each time I saw the commuter bus moving through traffic, I remembered I wanted to find out more.
So when our vehicle decided to stop running, mid-commute on Friday, we checked it into the auto hospital and decided it was time to take the commuter bus. It’s odd. When we travel to other cities, we ride buses, subways, trains and take taxis. It’s never an issue and we are completely comfortable. But something about having to catch the last bus home became worrisome. The published route and fares were listed on the website, but there were few specifics. The bus stop was a short ¾ mile from my office and less than ¼ mile from my husband’s office. The last bus left Austin at 6:20 PM. We gave ourselves over an hour to get to the stop so we had have plenty of time. We were unsure if the bus accepted cash or tokens.
A quick call to the Capitol Metro office and answered my questions. The representative assured me payment could be cash as long as the change was exact and the total fare was 4.75 per person. The website listed the price as 3.50, so I was glad I’d checked.
My husband and I arrived at the stop by 5:30 PM, well before departure. We bought a bottle of water from a downtown grocer so we would have exact change. A Starbucks sat on one corner and a Which Wich on the opposite; but we sat on a bench outside, around the corner from the bus stop to watch for the 990 commuter to arrive. Dusk settled as professional workers heading home gave way to Austin night life spilling across the sidewalk.
A few minutes after 6:00 PM, we relocated to the stop in hopes our bus might arrive early. It was a bit nippy but not too uncomfortable as we waited. After thirty minutes, a plethora of city buses lumbered past but no 990 commuter bus among them.
Around 6:40 PM our bus finally arrived. Four of us waited to board by the time it slowed and stopped. On board we began inserting dollars into the machine. The driver stopped us when we had deposited 7.00 dollars. The fare really was only 3.50 each. What a nice surprise!
We stopped four times before we reached our destination. The bus picked up and dropped off a few passengers before our journey ended. Commuting on the bus wasn’t quite what I had pictured. My fantasy, of a slow lumbering train ride, soft comfortable seats with low lighting wasn’t completely accurate. The ride was nice, if a little bumpy. We arrived in a reasonable time frame and it was comfortable. Would I ride it again? Yes…. But not every day just yet!
My anniversary is the first week in January and instead of exchanging gifts, my husband and I often take a weekend trip. We are usually in need of a bit of recuperation. Although fun, holiday travel can take a toll. Our hectic schedule begins with Thanksgiving and culminates with our anniversary weekend.
I love to travel but am always grateful to return home. This year our holiday plans included multiple trips, and I wanted to avoid piling on more miles when planning our anniversary.
I debated planning a special meal instead of a weekend trip, but decided to search online for day trips. A few familiar options popped up, but, there was one I had not heard of , the 9E Ranch. Intrigued, I read the following blurb:
“On a 320-acre ranch, this rustic cabin resort lies 13.4 miles from both downtown Bastrop and Smithville.
The 4 antiques-filled cabins are individually decorated and come with full kitchens and country views. Some add sleeper lofts, claw-foot tubs, air-conditioning, decks or wood-burning stoves.
Paths and hiking trails crisscross the property. Breakfast muffins and coffee are complimentary.”
The description sounded perfect for a quiet restful weekend! I checked the website for a vacancy and found The Eagles’ Nest Log Cabin was available. I booked the cabin and on Friday afternoon, we headed for the 9E Ranch.
We arrived at the ranch half an hour after we left home. The entrance was easy enough to find but I recommend using GPS. It is well marked but in the dusk it wasn’t as obvious as I expected. As we drove through the gate, we shook, rattled and rolled down the hard-packed dirt road.
It was a typical ranch road as expected on a working ranch. When we pulled up to the cabin, a smile spread across my face. The scene was idyllic. Thankfully, we had packed light, bringing few bags. The air was chilly and damp, so minimal luggage made unloading easy.
Inside, I was instantly charmed. The view was lovely. The stately pine trees meandered across the grassy slope tossing pine needles in their wake. Huddled at the bottom of the hill a small herd of longhorn cattle strolled.
We stowed our bags and settled on the sofa as the evening dusk faded to cast delightful light show across the horizon. Later, we sat at the little wooden table and ate a light meal. Tuna and fruit on a bed of greens and a tray of cheese with crackers on the side made a light and tasty meal! The rest of the evening we sat quietly reading, talking and just looking at the skyline.
On Saturday we drove to Smithville to visit a few antique stores and enjoy a fun lunch at Pocket’s Grille. At Pockets, the burger bar is the trunk of a 1961 Ford Galaxy. I ordered fish tacos and it was a delicious choice. Ron opted for a burger. We both cleaned our plates. After lunch, we headed back to our cabin. With the drizzle now a rain, we stayed inside the rest of the day. We had planned to take long walks on the trails and view the animals that roam the ranch.
Instead we stayed indoors, wrapped in a quilt while we played Trivial Pursuit and watched the night sky come to life. We left the Eagles’ Nest cabin around noon on Sunday, refreshed and rested. It was the perfect getaway and I can hardly wait to return.
It used to be easier to decide whether to fly or drive. I’d simply weigh the cost of flying against the cost of driving.
As the cost of gas rose I often chose to fly more often than drive. Post 911, the added levels of security threw a new slant on the picture increasing the overall travel time. Today my decision point depends upon my mood as much as time constraints and monetary costs.
Driving to my daughter’s house is usually a ten-hour drive. It’s just far enough to require a few breaks for food and fuel along the way that add to the travel time.
Unless my visit is longer than three days in duration, I prefer to fly. A few years ago I could fly one way for less than 100 U.S dollars. It’s more than twice that now so I search for a bargain every chance I get.
I decided to visit last weekend on the spur of the moment. 20 hours of driving would take a huge chunk out of a weekend visit. Unexpectedly, I discovered I had enough American Airline miles for the flight out. Score! I snagged the only flight that fit with my schedule. Although it was silly to fly to Chicago (1,165 miles) to get to Tulsa, Ok (452 miles) it was free!
I arrived at the airport an hour and a half before departure. I had no bags to check and the security lines seemed short, so I anticipated having an hour or so of downtime to catch up on reading.
I breezed to the front of the line quickly. My boarding pass checked, I stepped to the line for the scanners. Shedding my coat, shoes, belts and emptying pockets, I moved toward the stall for my full body scan. Scanned from head to toe, I was directed to stand on the second set of footprints. I guess the first set was reserved for the another unsuspecting traveler. The female agent asked me to step aside and examined my watch without touching it. She directed me to rotate my hand to examine the other side of the band. I passed that test and padded to the conveyer belt to retrieve my shoes and other possessions.
Not so fast….. The agent manning the machine grabbed my bin as it exited the cavernous opening. “Is this yours?” she asked. Yes, it sure was. As she indicated she was going to run it through the machine again, I waited patiently for it to complete the process one more time. After what felt much longer than it was, my belongings made their way down the belt toward me. Honestly, I’m okay with all the checking. I want to feel safe when I’m flying the friendly skies.
Finding my gate was easy and I settled in a seat and searched for my Kindle to read. Instead I spotted my Sudoku book scrunched into the pocket of my backpack and pulled it free, deciding to work on it instead. Burrowing to the bottom of my purse, I found a pencil and something else I had completely forgotten about.
My multipurpose pocket knife with the handy compass, wine opener and more was buried among my pens and pencils. Mortified, I pulled the pencil out and guiltily shoved the knife under anything I could find. There wasn’t a thing I could do but put my purse aside and try not to look guilty. No wonder they had to rescan my purse!
I managed to forget about the offending object in my purse and board my flight to Chicago. I had a two-hour layover in Chicago and worried I would dump my purse while I dug for cash to pay for my lunch. My black bean and goat cheese salad bowl did a great job at taking my mind off of it for a while.
The layover was without incident and I completely forgot about the contraband knife in my purse. When I finally arrived in Tulsa, about 8 hours after being dropped off at the airport, I pulled my backpack from the overhead bin and went in search of the exit.
An airport worker held open a side door for us. As I fell in with my fellow passengers, we filed through. Immediately when I walked through, alarms started sounding. On the outside looking back, several of us glanced around as in wondering what happened. Thankfully no one pulled us back in and searched us, after all we were leaving. I don’t know if the small pocket knife had any effect on the alarm but I was relieved to get in the car and toss into the center console!
The next time I fly, I’m sure I’ll completely empty my purse before I leave home.
Last year I persistently clacked the keyboard, determined to put some small entertainment on the blank page. If not entertainment, then perhaps grammatically correct sentences. Doggedly producing words, I waited for a gem to flow through my fingers.
Then I faltered. I’ve been away from the page for a while, pulled by distractions and obligations.
It began with Thanksgiving, the gentle nudge away from writing. The busy work and family obligations wooed me. I allowed myself to let writing slide for a while, missing a blog post, then two and three. My novel (s) in waiting went unopened for weeks. New ideas blossomed in my head and faded; notepads empty and computers idle.
Today I attempted to regain focus. Christmas has passed and Christmas future is far away. I took a deep breath, mentally rather than physically and opened a beautifully blank page.
Behind the computer screen, through the windowpane, two red cardinals play in the leaves. I smile and watch them foraging when suddenly the leaves around the bright spots of red became alive with movement. Bobbing in and out of the fallen oak leaves are numerous female cardinals. Their slight movement camouflaged, their coloring matching the dried leaves. Enjoying the activity, I see a squirrel has entered the scene. He too is easy to miss as he darts among the reds and browns of the winter landscape.
Past the tall barren oaks and through splashes of green from the fir trees, my neighbors walk their large white dog down our country lane; his full coat and bushy tail appear at odd intervals through the kaleidoscope of nature.
I recall the many cities I visited in the last few weeks and the family stories I intend to share, later. Now, I’m going to relax and enjoy nature. I’ll be back to catch up on travel and family a little later.
Last Friday, Ron and I headed to the Austin-Bergstrom international airport en route to our destination Atlanta, Ga. I was nervous and excited. If all went according to plan, I could cross two things off my life list. My life list is like a bucket list, but a lot more fluid. I add, change and delete from the list regularly. I planned to run a marathon in Alabama on Saturday. This would be my 17th state to complete a marathon. I also intended to run a half marathon in Chattanooga, Tennessee on Sunday.
There are many people who run back to back marathons and routinely compete on consecutive days. But not me! This would be my first “double weekend”. I considered running the marathon course for both Saturday and Sunday but soon changed my mind. Ron enthusiastically signed up for a marathon on both days.
We booked our flights on a budget airline, so we had to get creative with our packing. Running clothes and shoes for both races had to go in our carryon luggage for safekeeping. The airline charged for carryon luggage but allowed a personal item at no charge. I conscientiously stuffed running shoes, tights, and shirts in my backpack along with my kindle, purse and snacks. Although, I secretly believed if our running clothes got misplaced, it would be a sign. No running shoes or clothes? It just wasn’t meant to be.
In spite of long security lines, we made it to our gate with time to spare. Once on board, I looked forward to napping, but I discovered the seats didn’t recline. No nap for me! I couldn’t get comfortable enough to rest.
Arriving in Atlanta after two hours flying time, even sans nap I felt great. Several trains, walkways, and stairs later we arrived at the rental car lot. After a quick lunch at Applebee’s in Marietta, GA we headed to Chattanooga to pick up our packets for Sunday’s run.
We pulled up to packet pick up after sundown and fifteen minutes before the eight o’clock deadline. Race numbers retrieved we left for Albertville, Ala to find our hotel.
Albertville is 30 miles from Lake Guntersville where the Mainly Marathons Appalachian Series Day seven was being run at 6:30 AM on Saturday morning. The thin hotel walls allowed us to hear talking and movement all night. I didn’t understand the purpose of the mirrors covering the wall behind the bed. I’m sure I slept some but it didn’t feel like it.
Lake Guntersville
Pulling my running clothes from my suitcase to dress, I couldn’t find my running bra. Sure enough I didn’t pack one. The most supportive bra I had with me was my Victoria Secret bra my daughter bought for me.
Victoria’s Secret bra, gloves, jacket, tights and long sleeve running shirt warded off the chill and made it the temperature more tolerable.
Arriving at the park, we checked in and picked up our T-shirts and medals. Yes, we received our medals before we ran. We had to wait until we finished to get our state and year attachments.
We lined up with 60 other marathon hopefuls, ready to run the out and back on the 2.184 mile course 12 times. As one of the other runners said, “After the first few times, you stop noticing how pretty this looks.” That quote was from Bryndis a marathoner from Iceland. There are four marathons a year in Iceland, so she travels to the USA to run. She had run a marathon with the group the previous day on a course that required running 21 laps. Many of the runners were completing the series and were on their seventh day of running. Running a marathon in laps takes patience. You keep up with the laps by taking a rubber band each time you complete a lap. The scenery was beautiful and several times we had to slow for ducks to meander across the trail.
Our bibs had our names printed on them and everyone soon learned our names and shouted support as we crisscrossed the course. It was soon impossible to know who was passing you and who you were passing but everyone was smiling. It was the most non-competitive event I’ve ever participated in.
The end! Is it really over?
My watch battery died before I finished so my last few laps were very relaxed. I finished with blisters on both feet. Taking my shoes off to change I discovered my Tiva’s were safe at home so I stood around in my socks. Ron brought me a cup of Fritos, pretzels, jelly beans and an orange for a recovery snack. It was fantastic!
We regrouped and left for Chattanooga. Stopping at a Mexican restaurant along the way and we had a lovely meal.
Anything would have tasted good but our food was great. The meal arrived just as the Texas A&M and Alabama football game began to broadcast on the television mounted above the bar. Since we were in Alabama, we didn’t advertise our support of the Texas team.
We made it to Chattanooga and checked into our hotel. It was lovely and more than made up for the first hotel. We each had showers and got comfortable while we waited for room service. I was feeling spoiled!
Our hotel was a mile from the race tents. We slept an hour later than Saturday and made it to the start around 6:30 AM. The marathon started at 7:00 AM and the half at 7:30 AM, so I was able to watch as Ron crossed the start line.
It was still 43 degrees, but I was getting used to the colder temperatures. Crossing the start line to the tune of Jump On It, by Sir Mix-a-lot was invigorating. Along the course you always meet interesting and fun people. Sunday was no exception. I ran with a couple who were married the day before and this was their honeymoon. Crazy, I think! I also ran with Jeanetta who was running because she is terrified of bridges. She chose to run the four bridges marathon to help get past her fears.
And there is always someone willing to give advice. My favorite advice overheard on Sunday was from a man running his first marathon. He said, “Never pass up an opportunity to pee!”
We both finished our races, Ron much stronger than me, but we had fun. After stopping for lunch at Genghis Grill, we returned to our hotel where we showered and napped before heading back out for ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s.
We wandered around downtown Chattanooga a while. We visited a book and yarn store where the owner was demonstrating how to use a spinning wheel. We ate again before going back to the hotel for the evening. Exhausted and sore, we slept early and soundly. We woke early on Monday and headed back to Atlanta. Our vacation was over. Marathon state #17 – check. Back to back race days – check!
Last Friday evening, my husband and I traveled to Houston, Texas. We stayed in a lovely hotel near the George R. Brown Convention Center. The hotel joined the convention center via a skywalk, which made getting to our conference a breeze. Houston is a large metroplex, nearing 2.1 million in population. There is plenty to do and see.
We had a wonderful time on Saturday and it was great being able to access the conference without venturing out into the Texas heat. As we drove away from the conference on Saturday afternoon, the traffic was heavy and the roads were speckled with construction cones.
While we searched for a nice place to eat, all I could think was “How soon can I get back home?” We found a nice hibachi style restaurant and happily celebrated my husband’s birthday. And then we headed home…..
Sunday morning, we slept in until 7:30 AM before rising to head outside for a run down the country road near our house. It was a cool 64 degrees and I couldn’t help but contrast the bustling streets and bright lights of Houston to the quiet country lane.
Purple hued morning glories bobbed in the light breeze, waving a good morning as we passed. Knowing the short lived blooms would already be fading by the time we passed back on our way home, I savored glimpses of them as I ran by.
We passed these beautiful horses peering over the fence curiously as we neared their pond. I’m sure they were wondering where we were headed and if they might come along.
The vultures watched carefully from the tree tops but I assured them we were still alive and well! I encouraged them to move along as we weren’t done in just yet! They were certainly not intimidated by this makeshift scarecrow!
I enjoyed the trip to Houston, the conference and I met many wonderful people; but there is no place like home.
Running down a country road is where I belong….. with the roadrunners!
My aunts have always been very important to me. My mother was the oldest of seven children, six girls and one boy. My aunts Ruth, Carol and Myrna died too young as did my Uncle Gary. But, my mother, Aunt Helen and Aunt Marge were constants in my young adult life.
Aunt Marge only lived an hour away when we I was a child so we visited her more regularly.
In fact, when my daughter was born, it was Marge, and my cousins Lois and Stan that delivered me to the hospital. My labor pains kept getting closer and closer and my cousin Stan drove faster and faster. I was afraid of going to the hospital too soon and being sent home as “a false alarm” so I almost waited too long to go. For eleven miles, I bemoaned increasingly closer and harder pains while everyone assured me it would probably be all night before she was born.
Not so! Less than one and a half hours after arriving at the hospital, my daughter and first child graced us with her arrival. By the time I was checked in and assigned a room, I was sure it was time. The nurses fussed at me, telling me to be calm, but Marge asked them to check me anyway.
When the nurses realized my daughter was actually attempting to exit on her own, they slapped a gas mask on me and we rushed to delivery. She was born just as we passed through the doors even though the doctor and nurses weren’t quite ready. By the way my daughter is still going full force and showing no signs of slowing. The interesting thing is she was born on August 2nd at around 8:30 pm, just 3 ½ hours before my Aunt Marge’s birthday, August 3rd. In spite of my Aunt’s insistence that I should wait until after midnight, my daughter had other ideas.
But back to my Aunt Marge. Whenever we visited, she would always cook our favorite foods. When I was younger, I loved her hotcakes and hot cocoa. The pancakes were the size of a dinner plate and the hot cocoa was chocolatey, buttery yumminess! When my children were born they each developed their own favorites. My daughter loved her chili beans and my son loved her fried potatoes. She would always make chili beans and fried potatoes when we visited. No matter how I made those dishes, they just never seemed to be as good as my Aunt’s.
I love the memories of playing Wahoo with my cousins while listening to our Mom’s laugh and giggle as only sisters can. I cherish those memories of sitting in the floor, listening to the sound of the dice skitter across the wooden board surrounded by the warmth of family.
When my Dad called to say he wanted to come for a visit, we decided to rent a cabin for a couple of nights at the lake. Knowing the cabins would fill quickly over the 4th of July, we made reservations months ago. My dad loves to fish, which is obvious from his nickname “Fishhook”. We made sure to get a waterfront cabin so he could fish as much as he wanted. I’m not a fan of water and I don’t have the heart to go fishing, but Dad loves it!
In anticipation of our time together, we postponed our Father’s Day celebration. We decided to celebrate Father’s day and my birthday together. (my birthday falls on the 6th of July).
My daughter, Kat planned to swing by and pick up the boys, (my grandson’s) and my Dad. They all live about six hours away and although Dad is perfectly capable of driving here himself, at 82 I hate for him to be on the road.
We reserved the cabin for Thursday night and Friday night. We planned to drive to Corpus to see my older sister Saturday morning. She and I share a birthday even though we are three years apart. My Dad wanted to visit both of us on our birthday. Rarely do she and I have an opportunity to spend time together and it’s been years since Dad was able to join us on our birthday.
As often happens, our plans went awry. The boys had rehearsals for their community theater production and couldn’t get away. Dad lost his critter sitter and didn’t want to leave his dogs. He was also feeling a bit under the weather.
We thought about cancelling the trip and just gathering at home, but decided against it. The cabin was only 20 minutes or so from our house, but tucked away among the trees and nestled on the bank of the lake made it feel worlds apart.
We left for the cabin on Thursday, picking up my goddaughter, Dez and my son, Rich on the way. Dez, loves to fish and had eagerly anticipated fishing with my Dad. Rich on the other hand has never really enjoyed fishing as much as his sister does. My daughter was bringing her fishing gear and planned to arrive Thursday evening. She and Dez would be our fisherwomen for the weekend.
The cabin was very basic. It had five beds, an air conditioner and a trail leading to a shared shower and restroom facility. It also had a beautiful view of the lake, fresh air, an outdoor grill and a picnic table.
During the weekend we played games, rented a canoe, ate too much food and created unbelievable memories. My son discovered an enjoyment of fishing (much to his surprise), my daughter discovered a slug in her tennis shoe and a June bug in her swimsuit cover-up and my granddaughter, Jilly discovered a beetle in her nightshirt.
I discovered the delight of sitting in the middle of a canoe, lightly rowing and watching my Kat and Dez cast their lines. We laughed so hard trying to launch the canoe we almost didn’t get in the water. Even when the wind picked up and the rain fell, we laughed and fished and rowed.
Father’s Day was celebrated on Thursday night. We celebrated my birthday on Friday night, with Kat and Jilly surprised me with a cake and everyone sang happy birthday.
Saturday morning we were supposed to leave by noon but no one was ready to leave. Anticipating failure, but deciding to try anyway, my husband went to see if we could stay another night. Our cabin was already booked but the one next door was available. Rather than make us move, they switched the other guests next door. After a wonderful breakfast and lunch, my husband and I went to pick up a fresh bundle of firewood from the front office. When we arrived, they let us know the family that was originally booked in our cabin was insisting that we move and give them our cabin.
Since our reservation had been impromptu and it seemed to be important to the other family, we willing agreed to move. I rushed into the cabin to interrupt the current game in process and let everyone know we were moving. We had 5 beds stripped, suitcases moved, dishes and food transitioned and all our outdoor gear moved in about 15 minutes. By the time the new guests arrived we were already seated in our chairs next door planning our dinner meal.
I decided that if we ever have to go on the run or leave in a hurry, we definitely have the skills! Slightly sunburned, a few pounds heavier and a heart full of sunshine, we went our separate ways. It was a wonderfully fulfilling weekend with many stories left to tell…. Like the raccoon and the hotdogs and the snake in the reeds…. All stories for another day.
What a crazy May we have had. At least the last part of May has been crazy hectic by my standards. On Saturday, May 23rd, we left Austin, TX for Tulsa, OK to celebrate my granddaughter’s birthday. The rain began as we arrived and increased in intensity quickly.
We checked into a hotel. My daughter was due to fly in to Tulsa around 10:00 PM and our plan was to touch base on Sunday morning. The heavy rain quickly turned into a dangerous situation, flooding a few areas around town and many of the outlying towns.
Local television stations ceased regular programming and provided constant updates of the flooding situation, including water rescues. I was also monitoring the flooding situation in Wichita Falls, TX. I have family in the area and was concerned with their situations.
By 9:00 PM, my daughter had telephoned to say she had been diverted to Wichita, Kansas due to weather conditions in Tulsa. The main concern was the danger of wind shears.
Around the same time, my phone rang. My sister was calling to say she was also in Tulsa. She had come to visit a friend and contacted my daughter to let her know she was in town. What an oddity to find ourselves miles from our homes, and both in Tulsa in the midst of storms and flooding.
My daughter finally made it in around midnight; my sister and I were safe in our hotels and the rain continued. On Sunday, a little tired but excited to be together, we had a wonderful birthday celebration for my granddaughter which turned into a slumber party. My sister and I stayed Sunday night with my daughter and had a wonderful time playing games, laughing and just having fun. Early Monday morning we left Tulsa for Austin. The weather cooperated until we neared Waco, TX. I received a weather alert and text about the same time. Apparently there was rotation 15 miles ahead and coming our direction. My friend’s text basically said if you are in Waco take cover unless you’re at Twin Peaks, then keep driving!
With the radio warning we should seek cover immediately, we ducked into a Hastings. Of course I would find a book store to take refuge! When the rain lessened and the warning changed from a tornado warning to a severe thunderstorm warning, we decided to try to head home. When we headed for Interstate 35, we discovered the access roads were underwater and raging. Trying to avoid the flood waters, we turned away from the interstate and headed through a neighborhood, driving through a downpour and hoping we were moving uphill. My son pulled out his phone and switched his maps to a topographic map to guide us to higher ground.
We made it safely back on the interstate a few miles down the road. All the way home we were watching emergency vehicles working accidents, closing roads and rescuing underwater vehicles.
When we finally made it home, we were relieved to find our roads passable although there was water running across the roads and the ditches were rushing with muddy water. We pulled into the drive, opened the front door and discovered we had no power. Since it was just before dusk, it wasn’t quite too dark to see.
A call to the electric company provided an update. Electricity should be back on by 6:00 AM tomorrow morning. Absolutely unprepared to return home to no power, we made a quick trip to Wal-Mart for flashlights, batteries, food, etc.
By 6:00 AM the power outage was predicted to last until 6:00 PM. While we waited for the sunshine to rise and peek through the windows, we slept in. We had to conserve our phone usage, live without internet or computers and try to keep our food from spoiling.
We had a forced night of relaxation, the water never made it over the porch and our drive didn’t wash out until three days later, but that’s a story for another day. We were very fortunate. It seemed we were able to avoid floods, tornados and lightning storms. My heart and condolences go out to all the flood victims and I am extremely grateful we were spared.
Nana's Apron Strings 