For the first time I can ever recall, I didn't get my blog posted on time. Not because it's my kids' summer break, which means I got, got, got, got no time (to quote the Guess Who). Not because it was the Tsarina's night to cook dinner, which means I was up to my elbows in egg yuck as I helped her make homemade baked mozzarella sticks. Not even because it was time for my couples massage with Ryan Reynolds, though you know, it would have been rude to make him wait.
No, this time, the problem truly was beyond my control. Our power went out. Some pretty bad storms went through and while we didn't feel the brunt of the wind or rain, we still spent well over an hour in the semi-dark. (Work with me. It was five in the afternoon.)
Sometimes, life just happens, and all we can do is roll with it.
In 1998, a couple of months after we moved in our old (then new) house, we went to Maine for Labor Day weekend to visit my husband's family. While we were gone, we got a call from our new neighbors, letting us know that a possible tornado had ripped through our neighborhood the night before. It turned out to be a derecho (straight-line winds), not a tornado, but the damage left behind was pretty terrifying. We had trees down all over our back yard and no power for 10 days, but we were lucky. Two people who were staying at the state fairgrounds were killed. In fact, if the storm had hit about an hour earlier, the fair would have still been going and the midway would have been teeming with people. A week+ of no power feels a little insignificant after an event like that.
Life happens whether we're ready or not. The best we can do is tuck our heads down, pull our elbows in, and bend our knees, because baby, it's time to roll.
Or, possibly, to fly.