When it rains... it's a dumb saying and it just ain't funny.

This is not funny. Well, maybe I can make it funny, but at the moment, it ain't. I wasn't going to write about the accident at all, but now I have to.

It all started earlier this month. After dropping B.B. off, I decided to treat myself to McD's for breakfast. I was so looking forward to getting home to enjoy my coffee, my McMuffin and hours of quiet to work on a paper.

It was raining... so I was driving Kitty. Kitty, at 140,000 miles, has surer footing and is much more reliable than Daisy is at 160,000. I was less than 1/4 mile from home, following a van. The van slowed, pulling onto the shoulder to the right as if it were going into the bank parking lot right there, so I slowed but continued forward.

Suddenly, the van veered back out in the road and in that split second when I saw the horrified look on the driver's face I thought to myself, "Gee, lady, don't cha know you need to check your rear-view before attempting an illegal u-turn?!!!"

But that was just a split-second. I tried evasive action to the left, but I was unable to get away from her. My passenger side front wheel made contact with her driver's side front wheel, rendering both vehicles undriveable. As we sat there, parallel to one another, I rolled down Kitty's passenger side window to hear her on the phone (with her husband, I presume) saying "I don't know how this happened, I was only turning left and I had my signal on."

At which point, I, um, lost my cool for a second (Kitty was UN DRIVE ABLE! I only needed to go over the hill in front of us to BE HOME!) and snapped, "Oh lady, don't lie!"

Probably not the wisest move on my part... to save lots of time and LONG STORY... she persisted in said lie. To the point that the police officer, while he believed me, had to report both stories on the accident report and could not define fault as the pictures could not prove who was telling the truth. (Although, IMHO, any fool could see that her story, while possible, made absolutely no sense!)

Ahem! (regaining composure)

My insurance company said since they couldn't PROVE fault, declared equal fault, and since Kitty is so old and only had liability coverage, paid 1/2 of Lying Lady's damages, none to me. Her insurance company, since there was no way to prove fault, decided to pay NOTHING. I learned this over almost 2 weeks later, after Kitty had been sitting in a tow lot for all this time, racking up storage fees.

Luckily, I ran into the owner of the towing company (TJ) a few days later and explained the situation. After hearing the whole thing, he said he thought I should sue to get the truth to come out, and offered to only charge me the towing and not the storage. He took Kitty to a body shop owned by Rick, one of my former customers, and one of the nicest guys around. Rick is going to call me to let me know whether Kitty is worth fixing. (It pains me to say that,)

So, I'm stuck driving Miss Daisy (see Kitty's post) , who has been presenting all sorts of problems of late. I had to drive Daisy back to the farm (around 90 miles one way) for Easter since I hadn't been back home since Christmas. Easter weekend, as most of you know, was unbelievably wet. After running through a major puddle Sunday night, Daisy decided to stall at the next red light in P-town. After balking through 2 more light changes, she finally restarted and got us back to L-town without further incident.

Then tonight happened. The girls had rehearsal and got out at 7:30. It was again, raining cats and dogs. I was just going to run through a drive thru to get the girls something hot, fast. On the way to the restaurant, I encountered a huge puddle, and a car coming in the other direction, so I couldn't avoid it. She started stalling in the middle of the 192 bypass, but I was able to keep her running long enough to get into the drive thru... where she died. Kept trying to start her, but no luck.

Since she's a standard, and there was ample hill and parking lot behind the restaurant, (it's adjacent to a truck stop) I had to put her in neutral, get out and push her backward, (in the rain, with two little girls in the truck, while some nice man in a car watched me) so I could turn the wheel to get her started downhill. Popping the clutch didn't work. (P.D. and B.B. are cheering their little hearts out, begging Daisy to start... but that didn't work either.)

So now it's 8:15, pitch dark, raining to beat the band, and I'm about a mile from home with no way to get there with two tired little girls with me. I reasoned that while if Daisy had a chance to dry out she might start in the morning, I would be stuck with absolutely no way to get the girls to school if I left Daisy where she sat. I needed to call and get her towed home. (TJ's, of course!)

I started to call Sabrina, but Sabrina's helped me over and over and over again with the girls since I've been in school, so I called Filly. My thinking was first things first, get the girls home and dry... besides, there wouldn't be room in the cab of the tow truck for all three of us. Filly said she'd come and get the girls while I called TJ's.

Meanwhile, the two little girls and I are sitting in the bottom of a dark parking lot with our blinkers going. Of all the cars that passed us, only one nice guy pulled up to see if we could use help. I didn't get his name but I will definitely be sending blessing prayers his way tonight.

The truck arrived driven by none other than TJ himself! I told him I had a friend coming to get the girls, and he agreed to wait. Immediately after that short conversation, my phone rang and it was Filly telling me that about 2 feet of water was running over her road and she couldn't get to me... sigh.

The point of all that: Don't tell lies, even to save yourself money or heartache. You have no idea how your lies may affect someone else, or whether their situation might actually be worse than yours would have been if you'd told the truth. If I'd had Kitty (she would already be repaired if the lady told the truth!) none of the first part of tonight would have been an issue. Still, I forgive the lady... maybe she had mean husband and was scared he'd be mad at her for causing the wreck. Anyway....

So, we're stuck, right? NO. TJ said to get in my truck and put it in neutral, and he'd just take us all home that way. By this time I was game for anything. So, here we went, riding along as my truck was winched up onto the slant bed, then riding again as the bed picked us up and moved back into the flat position. TJ said if to just call his cell from mine if he accidentally drove past my house....

Here we go... riding around the 192 bypass at what felt like ten feet off the ground, lights ablazing everywhere. I felt like I should practice my celebrity wave if it hadn't been too dark and rainy for anyone to see me. The girls decided with all the lights going and riding so high up in the air that they were on a carnival ride. Wheee!

Hey, at least they have a new, interesting memory. They'll probably tell their kids about this.

We arrived home to find no electricity. We had to run around hunting for candles so I could see to write the check for the tow. (Which, I'm thinking, he cut me YET ANOTHER break on.) When the electricity came back on a few minutes after TJ left, I noticed that the floor in the basement looked awfully shiny... I turned on the basement light... 2 inches of water.

This is the same basement I spent the whole summer of 2009 agonizing over who I'd get to water-proof it. The same basement I nearly bleached myself to death in trying to kill any leftover mold from BEFORE the waterproofing.... The same one I just had tiled a few months ago because I was FINALLY confident that it wouldn't leak again. The same basement where the girls had just put ALL their toys so they could have nice restful bedrooms and a nice playroom downstairs.

Sump pumps don't work when the electricity goes out...

Instead of a quick, hot supper, the girls had peanut butter and jelly, and I'm REALLY hoping Daisy will start in the morning. Filly said she'll come and get the girls if she won't.

I am still blessed in many ways: I already knew TJ and that was comforting; if Kitty is fixable I know Rick will be fair with me; the girls weren't overly traumatized by tonight's events and didn't have to be out in the rain; I have some very dear friends I can call when I'm in a bind like this one; and I have something of a backup plan for tomorrow. I may be able to salvage some of the girls' toys, I always said they had too many. Oh, and something interesting happened in my life so I could write about it.

I apologize. I really thought I could put a better spin on this. (I will admit, I had to laugh at the girls' "carnival ride" earlier tonight.) I'm sure I'll find it all amusing in about 6 months...

But tonight? While I can find some silver linings...

Well, it just ain't funny.

No lesson here, just random nonsense from my world

My backyard's grass is too long. Way too long. Between school, internship and rain, I haven't had a chance to get the mower out. It's become a regular haven for rabbits. More on that later.

Mary Gina came down from Northern Kentucky to stay with me during week, going home on weekends, for most of March while she worked down here. Mary Gina is my other sister. Too long to explain.

Anyway, she's my counseling hero. She's been at it 20 years or longer. And she's frickin' brilliant. She's fun and she has all these stinkin' amazing ideas. Did I mention she's hilarious? And brilliant?

She flat schooled me playing pool once... but I don't hold it against her. (So you can see, it's sister-love, right?)

We had a blast while she was here. We made chocolate cake in a cup; staged a "Leprechaun Invasion" in the kitchen the day after St. Patty's that sent B.B. into orbit; she taught P.D. to use the word "nonsense" interchangeably with "stuff"...

"Hand me some more of that banana nonsense."

"Let's take a crack at this homework nonsense."

"K, if we're gonna do that we have to go to the store to pick up some nonsense."

We ate real food that I never get to cook because the girls' two votes beat my one; sat up late and watched Firefly nearly every night on Netflix (I love that show! Of course, she did too). I forgot how fun it was to have another adult in the house.

Of course, all was not perfect. My bed is king size, so it just made sense that she take half of my bed instead of sleeping on the couch. Someone in your bed when you've been alone in it for 3 years is an adjustment. That adjustment wouldn't have been so bad, but she fell in love with Sophie the Wonder Dog and because of all her begging, Sophie got to sleep in my bed instead of being sent to P.D.'s.

Grumble, grumble, but not much. She at least was good about putting Sophie out in the morning.

Then it happened. One morning Mary Gina (sans glasses) called up to me, "Kelly! I think Sophie had one of the girl's toys in the yard and she brought it back in all wet!"

I came to the top of the stairs to see MG standing there looking down at Sophie who was proudly carrying half (not all, HALF) of a REAL RABBIT in her mouth... looking very pleased with her little Jack Russell self.

I grew up on a farm. I was not shocked, just concerned about how to get her out the door so Mr. (or Ms.) Rabbit's carcass did not end up on my carpet. Then again, I went a teeny bit ballistic.

Me: Ahhh! Mary Gina, get her to go out! Get her out!

Mary Gina (blind sans glasses): What? The kids have tons of toys. I'm sure it's just wet from being outside!

Me (realizing MG can't see it and trying to keep from freaking her out): Just herd her toward the door!

MG (bending over): Hey Soph, let's go out, k?

Meanwhile, I start down the stairs. Sophie sees MG reaching for her prize and darts right past me up the stairs and straight under my bed, her favorite place to take toys, pencils, books, shoes, anything she can get her teeth on, to chew into oblivion.

The look on Mary Gina's face when I told her what Sophie really had in her mouth was priceless. We went on a mad search for a flashlight to see if we could get Sophie out, or at least fish her prize out if she dropped it. None of them were working. Mary Gina refused to go into my room. "What good will I be? I can't see!"

By the time I managed to get a lamp down beside the bed where Sophie normally hides, she was gone. I guess she ran back out when she heard me coming. The best I could tell, there was no rabbit under there, but we conducted a search of anywhere we thought she may hide one. We spent the next couple days sniffing around the house "in case" Mr. (or Ms.) Half Rabbit didn't get taken back outside. No smell, it's all good...

Until today. When P.D. called her in from outside this morning, Miss Sophie brought a new prize, a WHOLE baby rabbit, in with her. I thought P.D. would have a nervous breakdown until I got that thing thrown off the back porch outside.

When I came back from taking the girls to school, I noticed that Sophie had retrieved her new prize from the yard and was on the back porch chewing away... but over half of this prize was gone. When I looked out later there was just a tiny bit left.

I sent MG a text: BTW, figured out what happened to the half rabbit. Sophie ATE it! She brought in another one this morning!

MG: OMG that is SO GROSS!

Me: Tell me about it! P.D. was traumatized!

MG: So am I, sister, so am I!

Stats and Labels

I am often been surprised when someone mentions to me that they read something in my blog. I was shocked to learn my big brother, the most awesome Pat, had been here. (Yes, it's hero-worship, and yes, he knows. Really, I have the most awesome siblings in the world.)

I recently discovered a setting in the "editing" part of my blog called "Stats."

Fascinating!

1. While my numbers aren't huge, way more people read this than I imagined, or than ever let on. (Have I mentioned I LOVE comments on my posts? Just sayin',)

2. I'm going to admit, I've become obsessed with checking the numbers on the days after I post... I had 108 pageviews in April... whoa.

3. The most popular all-time posts are generally ones that have been stumbled upon by some unwitting Googler, the ones with common "keywords," particularly those related to Christmas in the titles... "Humbug" "Spirit of Christmas" "Reindeer Poop?" WHAT? Who Googles animal excrement?

4. The other most popular ones are the ones featuring videos.

5. Apparently, there's something in a few of my posts that are keywords in foreign countries... I've had 241 views from South Korea, and double digit views from Netherands, Taiwan, Russia, Germany, Japan, Brazil and Pakistan. Gee, my popularity is international! And YOU can say you knew me when....

I must say, learning that real people do read me has motivated me to post more, even with drivel such as this...

Anyway, in the interest of readability, since I apparently DO have an audience, I added labels to my blog... so any reader might easily find ramblings of interest more readily. If you think of a label I should add, please let me know.

These statistics are fun, but REAL feedback? Whoo hoo, that's the bomb-diggity!

I will warn you, the "Amusement" label means that I find a particular post amusing, but you may not.

This post being case in point.

Thank you, thank you, thank you God!!!!

The Lupus results came in early... the result I was afraid to even hope for came in...

NO LUPUS!

The title says it all!

Update:

The results for most of the bloodwork is back, waiting for the doctor's office to call me with it.

Oh, BUT the Lupus results won't be back until next week... Ugh.

It will be fine, it will be fine, it will be fine...

Oh, and I talked to Momma yesterday, seems P.D. already told her. And she WASN'T freaking out! Go Momma!

"What Happened" Isn't What WILL Happen

WARNING: If the date is prior to Friday, April 15, you are my reader, you know my mother, and you think you might be tempted to tell her about my blog, stop reading this post right now. Momma does not need to worry when there may be nothing to worry about.

I will tell her all about this when I know more. IF you read this and tell my mother, you can rest assured not only will she call me in a complete state of panic, she will tell me who told her and I will come down on your head with the wrath of the Apocalypse.

If you don't know my mother, or feel assured you can wait a few days to let me tell her, by all means, keep reading.

Last Sunday morning, before leaving to go to Deat's parents' home for a couple days, P.D. developed a rash on her face, for the third time in the last 6 months.

I took her to the pediatrician's office the last 2 times, and on the first visit I took the Nurse Practitioner I was speaking with into the next room to explain about her Daddy's Lupus and ask, “Could this rash be Lupus related?” She assured me it was a contact rash, gave her a steroid shot and some hydrocortisone and sent us on our way. WHEW!

So, this time, since their grandparents wanted to see the girls and I had a counseling conference to attend Monday and Tuesday, I sent the hydrocortisone with P.D. and didn't worry about another doctor visit. Been there, done that, right?

Monday night V. (Deat’s Mom) called me to say that Deat had a similar rash when he was young. He also said she had often kicked herself thinking that the rash was the actual first Lupus symptoms and she hadn't pushed it then.

She was very convincing, and I, quite frankly, freaked. I felt my throat close up. I couldn't talk. It's one thing to stand beside your partner and try to battle an illness... it's quite another to have your mind take you back to the worst 7 months of your life, (particularly the scenes from the last 2 of that 7 months) only seeing those scenes with your BABY in the hospital bed. It took me forever to calm down enough to remember that I'd asked about Lupus the first time the rash appeared and to tell her that. V. apologized for upsetting me so much.

V. called me again Tuesday night saying the same things… nothing new to add, only reinforcing my fears. Me thinking: It took me 24 hours to calm down from our last conversation and you just wanted to call to make sure I was sufficiently worried?

Backtracking: a few weeks after Deat died, crazy with fear, I called his rheumatologist about having the girls tested for Lupus. She said "No. The girls might have all the markers for Lupus but it may never ever flare. Don't drive yourself crazy. If it flares, you'll know it and we'll deal with it then."

I picked up the girls from their play rehearsal Wednesday (I was at work when they brought them home.) and later that evening V. called with the same concerns again... at which point I nearly lost my cool with her. "V., I said I would handle this, and I will."

I spoke to Doctor B. (a doctor from home I consult with about nearly everything) the next morning and explained my concerns: this could very well be a contact rash and I'd be putting myself (AND P.D.) through all this fear for nothing... but the tests could still say the markers were there... I can't begin to describe how frightening that is. Doctor B. said it might be a good idea to take P.D. to a dermatologist to let a trained eye look at the rash.

So, I called her pediatrician for an appointment to get the referral. I then called my in-laws to tell them what had been done. Lest you think otherwise, I'll just say, I adore both Deat's parents, and they love me. They've been through so much, I know they weren't trying to scare me, they were just scared themselves. I apologized for being so short with V.; I explained that the repeated calls felt like she didn't think I heard her the first time, and I told them I would keep them informed at every step.

Friday, at the pediatricians: This time I had the doctor instead of the PA. I explained the whole story to her and she got this very concerned look on her face. She told me the PA had not noted my Lupus fears in P.D.'s chart. I showed her where in the initial registration with her office I had listed everyone of Deat's health issues in the history. She immediately wrote a prescription for all the blood work. I think she was scared. I know she scared me. We'd have to go to the hospital Monday morning (today) to have the blood drawn. I hid it from the girls, but I felt like I was in the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Over the weekend I had some time to process all this. (I talked to a friend who went through Deat's illness with me, then I had class, breaks and lunch with a bunch of friends who also happen to be counselors-in-training. Kinda makes it easier, huh?)

I realized that even if the diagnosis comes back positive, it doesn't mean I'm looking at a repeat of what we went through with Deat. (If you're interested, all the updates from his illness are logged at: What Happened) Deat was in denial before we discovered that his kidneys had shut down. Deat's Lupus had been out of remission and flaring uncontrolled for quite a while before we found it: long enough to completely destroy his kidneys, and that takes some time.

If P.D. has Lupus markers, and she has a flare, it won't go unchecked. She's not her Daddy, she can't just explain away any symptoms I see. I CAN "make" her go to the doctor. Just saying those things out loud did wonders.

So, yesterday afternoon: I explained to P.D. that we were going to the hospital to have the blood drawn. I told her that if she had questions she'd have time to think of them and ask me. She had a few, mostly about how much it would hurt. She also later came and asked if she could take her "Daddy Blanket" (a quilt I had made for her from her Daddy's shirts) with her for comfort. She had a hard time sleeping last night...

I kept waiting for the inevitable "BIG QUESTION" but it never came, so I asked her this morning,

"P.D., do you know why they want to test your blood?"

"Yes, for Lupus."

WOW. Such perspective. My baby is smarter than her Momma... she's taking things as they actually come. She was more worried about a needle stick than finding out she may or may not have Lupus. She was very brave when they drew her blood.

I am so lucky to have that kid. I still don't know why in the world God saw fit to bless me as much as He has with her. The blood tests will come back Wednesday, possibly as late as Thursday.

I think I'm finally in a frame of mind to handle whatever they say.

Shhh! It's a secret!

Lucky readers! (All 8 of you!) Another blog!

The circumstance for this post? The stars have finally aligned just right: the girls aren't home and I have homework I should be doing.

I've felt a bit like a phony. TLC says in her blog how she admires my bravery in that I put so much of myself "out there," but I've been avoiding writing so I could keep some things to myself. So, today I'll be disclosing something I've debated for some time. Shhh, I'm getting ready to tell you a secret:

I think I'm ready to date again.

There.

I said it.

In print.

It must be so.

Did I tell you guys about my foray into dating way back? I bet I didn't.

I've had something of a hang-up about admitting to any interest in the opposite sex. Despite my bravado in my "About Me" about trying to get away from the title "Deat's Widow," I clung to it. Deat was the greatest guy I ever knew, and I was extremely proud of being his wife. Admitting I wanted to get "out there" again equated to further relinquishing that part of my identity... it was too hard... and somehow, I was afraid I'd be seen as disloyal. Now, it's been 3 years, I think it's okay.

Anyway, on to my forays:

About a year after Deat died I ran into an old friend from high school, one I happened to have had a pretty big crush on back in the day. Darrin is one of the sweetest people I know, a gentleman, considerate, and he always wears the most infectious smile.

We went out a couple times. At the end of the second date, he looked at me with that sweet Darrin-grin, and said, "Kelly, honey, you ain't ready to date."

I was disappointed, but I think because I mostly just wanted a distraction from all the hurt I still felt.

More recently, I sort-of had a (hmm), semi-romantic "thing" going with a guy from way back in my past from about July to February. Very complicated. Mostly over the phone, so I called it "safe." "Kirk" and I have a long history of "near misses" in our relationship over time, from as far back as 1993.

Rational-me can't stand him; dreamer-me is crazy about him. Let's just say "Kirk" isn't on a similar life track. Hell, he's not even on the same mode of transportation. I told myself this "thing" was a good distraction from the "real" stresses in my life. I told myself I wasn't emotionally invested. But, okay, yeah, I was. Still am a little bit. I learned that a great deal of Kirk's and my attraction for one another is about who each of us "imagine" one another to be, rather than who each of us actually are. Needless to say, missed again.

Then there's my friend, Kelly. (Yeah, he has the same name as me. I'll try to write so you can tell us apart. If you get confused, he's the one wearing the Braves hat.)

Kelly and I used to work for the same company, and he was actually my boss for a brief time. We found each other again on "LinkedIn" back in August and just started chatting, texting, calling each other. Strictly platonic... besides, he lives in 5 1/2 hours away, how safe is that?

He was going through a rough time, and we shared a lot. Kelly is someone I really respect. We ran scenarios from our lives by each other for comment. A lot of our conversations revolved around the both of us being "relationship challenged." (He thought the whole thing with Kirk was ridiculous, and kept telling me I needed to quit hiding and get "out there.")

Then one day, Kelly (gasp!) flirted with me! Completely innocent, but it made me think. It brought about the beginning of the end in Kirk's and my latest "near-miss." Here was someone much closer to my own set of concerns, values, priorities... and he was expressing that maybe I was attractive? Whoa. (Not to mention, he's cute as a bug's ear.) And in terms of our conversations, flirting with me was kind of a major step for Kelly, a change I think he was looking for in himself.

BUT: then he met someone there. And man, I wanted to dislike her, to pick her apart and find things wrong with her, but I can't. This relationship, so far, seems to be really good for Kelly for lots of reasons. For a little while I resented that I wasn't getting all the attention I had been, that he didn't "need" my friendship as much. I took a week or so to pout about it, then things went back to normal. We're still friends, I worked through my "abandonment" issues... Besides, if we got together and got married someday, how would we ever know whose mail was whose?

So anyway, back to me, here, now. I'm at least more open to the idea of getting out there. (Not that I'm fighting suitors off or anything.) But, I think I was very likely sending out signals that I wasn't interested in the idea whether I meant to or not. Maybe now that I'm more open to it I will meet someone or maybe even go out with someone I already know... who knows? .

I may even tell you guys about it.

To be continued...