Soon after Asher was born Daddy's mother decided she should come and visit. Last Friday (I started this post a while ago, so last Friday refers to Friday the 24th of April) she attempted this visit and that is where our tale begins.
It was a day like any other. I slept late, ate, played, ate again, slept some more and then Daddy came home and we ate again and had a short visit to the park, during which we chased some sirens. I love sirens. Now the park and the sirens aren't necessarily common occurrences, but when they do happen, I get happy. We drove back from the park with a little rain splattering the windshield. Daddy said that a weather man had told him that to expect a 20%-30% chance of showers. The rain was slight so it seemed he was right.
We arrived at home just in time to prepare to go meet Grandma J at the airport. A quick check said the flight would be landing fifteen minutes early at 7:50. After a short debate as to which of us should accompany Daddy on this venture, it was fortuitously decided that simply he and I should go. We set off on what promised to be a routine trip; how little we did know.
The drive to the freeway was commonplace. The rain hadn't quit which was a little surprising. Once we got onto 45 however, things started to change. The skies darkened, the rain became louder and I soon found it rather hard to see much of anything. Daddy is no stranger to driving in inclement weather and he has little fear of it. We trekked on, and I gave little thought to anything more than my MagnaDoodle and seeing Grandma soon. As we took our exit to the airport I noticed Daddy was driving a little odd. Glancing up revealed that everyone else was too. The roads seemed to be collecting water and all the traffic was swerving around the deepest of the puddles. This wasn't a big issue in most cases and we were soon safely at the airport when we got the news. Grandma's plane was delayed; ETA 9:45.
With some time to kill, and an aversion to paying for parking, Daddy sought to find solace in a cup of coffee. There was a Starbucks nearby and his plan was to wait out the delay in the comfort they provided. The road to Starbucks was a little hairy. Rain was still pouring down and traffic was moving very slowly and in a couple cases, stalled in the roadway. Daddy seemed to get a little uncomfortable with the main thoroughfare and deftly took his sport van to the higher ground of the parking lots. Interconnected as they were, we found a way to the feeder road of the 45 just a mile or two from the coffee house. The feeder was moving slowly with traffic crammed into one lane in an effort to avoid water. Without much incident Daddy found his java oasis and while turning in began to realize what a poor idea this had been.
This particular Starbucks was conveniently located right off the feeder and currently was an island in a sea of rainwater. Now, with the amount of rain that was coming down, everything appeared to be an island; the test was to traverse the water. If the going was easy this wasn't an island, but merely water covered land. If the trip was fraught with peril and frantic attempts to remember your insurance guy’s phone number than you're likely approaching an island. If your car stalls, you're definitely approaching an island. As we turn off the feeder we plunge into what appears to be water of a depth similar to the feeder, but is actually a steadily growing pond.
The van (Homer) bravely takes on the water with all the veracity of a canoe. We emerge on higher ground and take stock of the situation. The rain has only increased its tempo on Homer's roof and our tail end is dangling in the gratuitous puddle. To move or not to move, this is the question. For if we stay, we risk taking on water; if we move we must enter the depths of the lake once more and hope for our own Mt. Ararat on which to perch. Daddy surveys the sight and makes his decision. We move.
With some slight adjustments Daddy angles Homer for our new destination, a spot right upon the door step of the coffee shop. It seems to be a little higher, but it is no sure thing. With faith we set out and dive into the waters again. Our faith is rewarded; as soon as we reach the deepest part a bank drive-through appears, covered and well above the water level. We have secured Homer. Now what?
Daddy gathers his things and releases me from my Graco bonds. With umbrella in hand we trudge across the parking lot to the warmth and caffeine of the Starbucks. Midway I glance down and notice the water is almost up to Daddy's knees, and rising. A nice barista opens the door and we scurry past.
The store is mostly empty, three baristas are cleaning up and we are two of three customers. Coffee is offered and quickly accepted and I am offered some chocolate milk. I accept; it’s my first time with chocolate milk; it goes quick; I like it. We are safe, warm and comfortable. Our chariot Homer is perched safely and now we wait and watch.
The rain continues; water rises. A fire hydrant nearby serves as a depth gauge. When we arrive the water is a little below the bottom of the side nozzles. At its peak the water reaches near the top of the nozzles. As we wait many people call. Grandma’s jet is diverted to Dallas until the storm passes. She doesn’t get to Houston till about 10:45. Grandpa is monitoring the storm in Kansas and there seems to be no end in sight. One report we receive says the storm seem to be regenerating above us.
During the course of the evening I get to a point where I must use the restroom. Since I don’t know how to do this yet, I just use the diaper I’m wearing. Daddy gets wind of this and seems a little worried. After all this was going to be a quick trip to and from the airport. There was no contingency plan for being gone for hours. When we left the van we brought our umbrella and my blanket and drink. Diapers were not something we had thought about at the time. The fact of the matter was, we didn’t even bring the diaper bag. Seeing how we were going to be there for a while, Daddy had to act.
We were across the (flooded) street from a Wal-Mart and I’m pretty sure Daddy was considering running over there and buying some diapers. He thought he would check the van first. So leaving me in the hands of our new found friends Daddy trundles off through the now knee-high waters. He returns victorious! It appears that we had the backup diaper bag in the van and it was adequately stocked. I feel better shortly. Now back to wasting time.
The general populous realizes their common hunger and our hosts dig up some oatmeal. I have none, but I watch Daddy eat his. In time Grandma calls. Her flight has finally landed in Houston. I talk to her for a while and tell her many grand tales. Daddy finally gives her the news that we can’t get to her. Plans are devised. Initially the plan is to wait, but as time wears on and the rain continues Grandma gets antsy. We tell her where we are and she says she’ll try to get to us.
The rain toys with us as it lets up and then begins again, cyclically. Grandma calls and says she made it to a Starbucks and asks if we’re there. Daddy tells her that if she is in the parking lot of a Starbucks and driving, then she is in the wrong place. A couple miles up the road from us Grandma works out our location with her cab driver. She’s on her way. The off-and-on rain hasn’t been enough to keep our pond at its peak level and the water is now at about the halfway point on the fire hydrant nozzle.
The clock now reads nearly 1 am, the water has been slowly receding and Grandma is on her way. Daddy and I go wait in the van. Homer starts up like a champ. Daddy straps me in and starts playing Dark Side of the Moon. I must have fell into a deep slumber, because the next thing I remember is Daddy opening the door of the van in our parking lot with Grandma there. I’ll let Daddy fill in the gaps. Excuse his simple styling and excess of random facts; he’s an engineer after all. If you are still reading click here for Mommy's new food blog.
Mother arrives at 1:19 am on Saturday April 25th. She convinces her taxi driver to stop on the feeder and let her out. I fetch her and her 17 lb bag and we walk through water that is 2.3” deeper than my knees. We reach the van where Addilyn has been sleeping for about 12 minutes. Mother calls father and assures her safety. We wait. The water recedes to approximately 8 inches from its peak level and I decide we can leave. After determining my route and calculating my risks we head out. The van does well until the deepest part where it stalls. I get it started again and we pull onto the feeder. Once on the feeder it is an easy 18.9 miles home. At 2:03 am we arrive home, safe and sound. Below are some pictures.
Addilyn & Tyler
It was a day like any other. I slept late, ate, played, ate again, slept some more and then Daddy came home and we ate again and had a short visit to the park, during which we chased some sirens. I love sirens. Now the park and the sirens aren't necessarily common occurrences, but when they do happen, I get happy. We drove back from the park with a little rain splattering the windshield. Daddy said that a weather man had told him that to expect a 20%-30% chance of showers. The rain was slight so it seemed he was right.
We arrived at home just in time to prepare to go meet Grandma J at the airport. A quick check said the flight would be landing fifteen minutes early at 7:50. After a short debate as to which of us should accompany Daddy on this venture, it was fortuitously decided that simply he and I should go. We set off on what promised to be a routine trip; how little we did know.
The drive to the freeway was commonplace. The rain hadn't quit which was a little surprising. Once we got onto 45 however, things started to change. The skies darkened, the rain became louder and I soon found it rather hard to see much of anything. Daddy is no stranger to driving in inclement weather and he has little fear of it. We trekked on, and I gave little thought to anything more than my MagnaDoodle and seeing Grandma soon. As we took our exit to the airport I noticed Daddy was driving a little odd. Glancing up revealed that everyone else was too. The roads seemed to be collecting water and all the traffic was swerving around the deepest of the puddles. This wasn't a big issue in most cases and we were soon safely at the airport when we got the news. Grandma's plane was delayed; ETA 9:45.
With some time to kill, and an aversion to paying for parking, Daddy sought to find solace in a cup of coffee. There was a Starbucks nearby and his plan was to wait out the delay in the comfort they provided. The road to Starbucks was a little hairy. Rain was still pouring down and traffic was moving very slowly and in a couple cases, stalled in the roadway. Daddy seemed to get a little uncomfortable with the main thoroughfare and deftly took his sport van to the higher ground of the parking lots. Interconnected as they were, we found a way to the feeder road of the 45 just a mile or two from the coffee house. The feeder was moving slowly with traffic crammed into one lane in an effort to avoid water. Without much incident Daddy found his java oasis and while turning in began to realize what a poor idea this had been.
This particular Starbucks was conveniently located right off the feeder and currently was an island in a sea of rainwater. Now, with the amount of rain that was coming down, everything appeared to be an island; the test was to traverse the water. If the going was easy this wasn't an island, but merely water covered land. If the trip was fraught with peril and frantic attempts to remember your insurance guy’s phone number than you're likely approaching an island. If your car stalls, you're definitely approaching an island. As we turn off the feeder we plunge into what appears to be water of a depth similar to the feeder, but is actually a steadily growing pond.
The van (Homer) bravely takes on the water with all the veracity of a canoe. We emerge on higher ground and take stock of the situation. The rain has only increased its tempo on Homer's roof and our tail end is dangling in the gratuitous puddle. To move or not to move, this is the question. For if we stay, we risk taking on water; if we move we must enter the depths of the lake once more and hope for our own Mt. Ararat on which to perch. Daddy surveys the sight and makes his decision. We move.
With some slight adjustments Daddy angles Homer for our new destination, a spot right upon the door step of the coffee shop. It seems to be a little higher, but it is no sure thing. With faith we set out and dive into the waters again. Our faith is rewarded; as soon as we reach the deepest part a bank drive-through appears, covered and well above the water level. We have secured Homer. Now what?
Daddy gathers his things and releases me from my Graco bonds. With umbrella in hand we trudge across the parking lot to the warmth and caffeine of the Starbucks. Midway I glance down and notice the water is almost up to Daddy's knees, and rising. A nice barista opens the door and we scurry past.
The store is mostly empty, three baristas are cleaning up and we are two of three customers. Coffee is offered and quickly accepted and I am offered some chocolate milk. I accept; it’s my first time with chocolate milk; it goes quick; I like it. We are safe, warm and comfortable. Our chariot Homer is perched safely and now we wait and watch.
The rain continues; water rises. A fire hydrant nearby serves as a depth gauge. When we arrive the water is a little below the bottom of the side nozzles. At its peak the water reaches near the top of the nozzles. As we wait many people call. Grandma’s jet is diverted to Dallas until the storm passes. She doesn’t get to Houston till about 10:45. Grandpa is monitoring the storm in Kansas and there seems to be no end in sight. One report we receive says the storm seem to be regenerating above us.
During the course of the evening I get to a point where I must use the restroom. Since I don’t know how to do this yet, I just use the diaper I’m wearing. Daddy gets wind of this and seems a little worried. After all this was going to be a quick trip to and from the airport. There was no contingency plan for being gone for hours. When we left the van we brought our umbrella and my blanket and drink. Diapers were not something we had thought about at the time. The fact of the matter was, we didn’t even bring the diaper bag. Seeing how we were going to be there for a while, Daddy had to act.
We were across the (flooded) street from a Wal-Mart and I’m pretty sure Daddy was considering running over there and buying some diapers. He thought he would check the van first. So leaving me in the hands of our new found friends Daddy trundles off through the now knee-high waters. He returns victorious! It appears that we had the backup diaper bag in the van and it was adequately stocked. I feel better shortly. Now back to wasting time.
The general populous realizes their common hunger and our hosts dig up some oatmeal. I have none, but I watch Daddy eat his. In time Grandma calls. Her flight has finally landed in Houston. I talk to her for a while and tell her many grand tales. Daddy finally gives her the news that we can’t get to her. Plans are devised. Initially the plan is to wait, but as time wears on and the rain continues Grandma gets antsy. We tell her where we are and she says she’ll try to get to us.
The rain toys with us as it lets up and then begins again, cyclically. Grandma calls and says she made it to a Starbucks and asks if we’re there. Daddy tells her that if she is in the parking lot of a Starbucks and driving, then she is in the wrong place. A couple miles up the road from us Grandma works out our location with her cab driver. She’s on her way. The off-and-on rain hasn’t been enough to keep our pond at its peak level and the water is now at about the halfway point on the fire hydrant nozzle.
The clock now reads nearly 1 am, the water has been slowly receding and Grandma is on her way. Daddy and I go wait in the van. Homer starts up like a champ. Daddy straps me in and starts playing Dark Side of the Moon. I must have fell into a deep slumber, because the next thing I remember is Daddy opening the door of the van in our parking lot with Grandma there. I’ll let Daddy fill in the gaps. Excuse his simple styling and excess of random facts; he’s an engineer after all. If you are still reading click here for Mommy's new food blog.
Mother arrives at 1:19 am on Saturday April 25th. She convinces her taxi driver to stop on the feeder and let her out. I fetch her and her 17 lb bag and we walk through water that is 2.3” deeper than my knees. We reach the van where Addilyn has been sleeping for about 12 minutes. Mother calls father and assures her safety. We wait. The water recedes to approximately 8 inches from its peak level and I decide we can leave. After determining my route and calculating my risks we head out. The van does well until the deepest part where it stalls. I get it started again and we pull onto the feeder. Once on the feeder it is an easy 18.9 miles home. At 2:03 am we arrive home, safe and sound. Below are some pictures.
Addilyn & Tyler
2 comments:
And WHY ARE YOU NOT A WRITER???? Very entertaining. It felt like I was there.
I'm out of breath reading it.
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