And Yet Another Series of Unfortunate (but still very humorous) Events

This time, the events were really a series. :)

Part One in the Series:
On Monday morning, at 4:30 am, I woke up to hear voices downstairs in our living room. If William wakes up a such a terrible time and cannot go back to sleep, it is not unusual for my parents to sit and talk in the living room whilst the baby plays himself tired.

But on this morning, the voices were not hushed and gentle, there was a sound of emergency in them. I heard my mom telling my dad not to go back outside but to call the police. My dad replied but I didn't hear what he said. I ran downstairs and over to my mom who was still standing by her room. My dad was in the kitchen making lots of noise.

"What is going on?" I asked.

"Someone broke into the garage and the car and dad is going out there." My mom replied. "Here, take the baby."

I held my arms out and took sweet William of Lard from my mother. She then proceeded to follow my dad out the door.

"Where are you going?" I questioned.

"To find dad." Was her reply.

"What???" But she had already disappeared out the door.

After a quick prayer, I sunk into the couch cuddling William and trying to put him back to sleep. My mom came back inside and a few moments later, my dad followed. They both sat down and talked about whether or not they should phone the police. In the end, they decided it would be a good idea. The officer didn't arrive for another two hours, so in the mean time, I was filled in with the details of what happened earlier...

Before I made it downstairs, the alarm started going off, so my dad jumped up to turn it off. He checked to see which zones in the house had been violated, and it showed the entry doors were. So, he check both doors and both were closed and locked. Then he walked over to the bay windows in our kitchen and opened the blinds that look onto the garage. He saw the door was open and the light was on. His first thought was that it might be an animal. So he opened the door and looked out. Then another light caught his eye. The car doors were open and the lights were on in there. So, like the good defender of the family, he says, "I know that you're in there, and I'm going to get my gun!" He came back inside, grabbed his gun, loaded it and went back outside, and that is where I woke up.


Part Two in the Series:

While Merisha and I were at the store on Monday, Robin was cleaning and doing laundry. It was raining on Monday and bringing in a much desired cold front. Robin put some things in the sink to soak and then went downstairs to transfer some laundry. She and Christa were talking when suddenly, instead of the water being outside, it was also inside, pouring from the kitchen ceiling and light fixtures. Christa called for my dad and told him that we had a leak.

A light bulb turned on in Robin's head. She ran upstairs and after wading through the water in her bathroom, she turned the water off and threw down towels to try and sop up some water. She told my dad where the water was coming from, they called the insurance company, who told them not to touch anything before they arrived.

Merisha and I were called home since Robin had an appointment that afternoon, my mom was going to the hospital, and my dad was working on some house stuff. A few hours later, the clean up crew arrived and pulled out a ladder to check the moisture in the ceiling and floor. It was 100% on most of the areas that he checked, and 8% in just one.

So, they cut off a huge strip of carpet upstairs (note that the company who made our carpet, discontinued it shortly after we moved in). Then they drilled 55-60 huge holes in the ceiling to drain the water out. They set up a dehumidifier upstairs and down. They put two ginormous fans in the bedroom, and three in the kitchen and told us that they would need to run for 24-48 hours.

So, the next day, some of my family went to stay with a family from church, Caleb went to stay with another family, and my parents, William and Christa trekked off to market. And just when you thought the story was over...

Part Three in the Series:

Around 3:30 pm, on Tuesday, Robin and Miss LaDonna left for a chiropractor appointment. Shortly after they left, my dad called me as he was driving down the freeway and told me that the moisture guy was going to be at our house in 30 minutes.

"So, maybe you and Miss LaDonna can go over and meet him there," says my Dad.

"Well, that would be fine, but she and Robin just left."

"Oh, well maybe one of the Guenthers can take out over."

"I'll see what I can do," was my rather doubtful reply. I checked to see who was around and nobody had a vehicle. How wonderful. So, I began to brainstorm. After a hurricane of ideas ran through my mind, I decided the only way to get there was to walk.

So, Merisha and I did a very fast clean up and got some things soaking. We told Mrs. M. that we were going to have to leave for a few minutes and therefore close the tea room. We printed up a piece of paper that said in a beautiful cursive font, "Sorry, Tea Room is Closed" and put it in the doorway, let Hans know to tell people calling for me that I was out momentarily, and then we proceeded to run home. Instead of taking the long route through the neighborhood, we took South Fry Road making long, very un-ladylike strides in order to get there before the service man did.

Thankfully, no green van passed us, and neither was he waiting in front of our house. We waited for a few minutes, and then he showed up. He checked the moisture both upstairs and down and said that it was still 30% upstairs, but I didn't catch what he said about the ceiling. He said to leave the fans running for another night and said he would be back the next day.

After he left, Merisha and I locked up the house and then, once more, took a jot down Fry back to the tea room. 'Tis very nice having such a convenient commute to work. ;-) Once we arrived, we took the paper down, donned pretty aprons and re-opened the tea room.

The Last but not Least Part in the Series:

Yesterday morning, while breakfast was cooking, I decided that a strawberry-banana smoothie would go great with eggs. So, I began putting stuff into the blender and went to get a banana. They were still very green, but I thought to myself, "that should be fine! We're sticking into the blender, what harm could it do?"

I began to take the peel off, and discovered, much to my dismay, it was very hard to get off. Rather annoyed at such an inconvenience, I grabbed a knife and decided it would come off better this way. So I started getting pieces of peel off, slowly but surely, and then....my knife got stuck, I pulled too hard at the wrong moment, and the very sharp, serrated knife slid off the banana and right into the tip of my thumb, right next to the finger nail, rather deep and very circular. Sorry for the gruesome details...just be glad you weren't there. :)

Thankfully, I don't bleed very much, I never have and hope I never will. Nevertheless, I raced over to the sink and put cold water onto my throbbing wound. I took a peek, and was rather disgusted when I saw the skin part like the Red Sea. Robin came over to see the damage, so I took the pressure off and showed her, turning my stomach once more. James came over and he wanted to see, so I summoned up my courage and showed him.

NOTE: Under normal circumstances, I take pain pretty well. But today, I began to feel so light headed. I kept my hand under cold water, but laid my head on my arm and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the room began to swim and I heard James say, "She needs to sit down."

So, they helped me over to a chair, Robin putting pressure on my thumb, and I sat down and put my head on the table. I asked someone to open the back door because I was getting really hot. I took a drink of water and laid back down refusing every urge to look at my thumb. Robin, saying that she had never seen anyone react this way to a cut before, dressed my wound and put butterflies and gauze on it. Somebody asked me if I had eaten anything, and yes, I had eaten a sugar cookie and that was it. My omelet had just come off the pan when the incident happened, so I had nothing of substance in my stomach.

I was forced to eat, which made me feel much better. But I was still out of circuit since my whole thumb feels bruised and sore. One part of my thumb is looking great, but the other side is still open. It is even slowing my knitting down. :( So, please pray that I make it through the week without cutting myself again, or cutting my fingers off. :) I'm thinking about changing my name to Klutz F. McDonald. What do you think?