I didn't have a weekend this past week. I was too busy. Ever have one of those weekends, where Tuesday or Wednesday you think, hey, where'd my weekend go?
Thursday night, our part of the world had a surprise storm, and when I say storm, I mean rain and winds hitting 85+ m.p.h. With the sump pump in our basement running every three minutes, lights flickering and cable stations going out and coming on again, Hubby and I thought it might be a good idea to get the generator out of the garage and set it up to run the pump.
Of course, the power blew just as we said those words. I lit the kerosene lamp we have and grabbed my boots, heading for the basement to begin bailing out the water and yelling to the two older kids to get up, get dressed, and come help. Having opened the garage door just before the power went, Hubby headed down the driveway. Unable to find the two-wheeler or thinking to use the kids’ little red wagon to haul this 150 pound machine, he carried it to the front of the house, some 100+ feet away.
Then he came in the house and asked me to call 9-1-1; he, the cardiac patient himself, was having chest pains and shortness of breath. He was scared. I went onto automatic pilot. I called for help. Told the Oldest to call my parents. Called neighbors to stay with the kids until my parents arrived. Called other neighbors to get the generator going. Grabbed a few things in the dark and threw them in a bag. Got ready for Chaos to reign over my world for the next few days.