Ya Can't Make This Stuff Up!

OK...so you know this week's been so totally out of the ordinary - for Anyone... right?

Hold onto your hockey helmets folks: It wigs out beyond comprehension. Really...you can't make this up.

My John, knowing I needed a bit of TLC, made Irish oatmeal for me this AM and let me alone to organize my new life of working from home to look for a job.

I made good old proper tea and we were thrilled with the oatmeal, so much so that we actually kind of relaxed. (Lemme know, via comment, if you want directions for the oatmeal...and you'll get 'em of course!)

Dill came home from the SATs; Jere started his new chore of vacuuming to our amusement (i think he's gonna get a call from the NY Yankees' ground crew soon!); John napped and I plugged away...

...and the rains and winds were wickedly whipping...

One tree's down...and another...

Gather the animals!

What? It's still Hockey Night in Skillman? Can't buy pizza with the new belt tightening; I'll make pasta. Who's coming over? Brian and Timmy. Better make double!

So the guys arrived in an ark and no sooner had warm-ups begun, Timmy's upstairs lookin pale...Um, Dillon fell and he needs you...

I bolted down; found my eldest on the slab floor; and in a pained voice heard him say, "I'm pretty sure my knee's dislocated." John looked at me, I said ambulance.

What better way to spend a Saturday night?

John stayed upstairs waiting for the EMTs and I tended to Dill and his concerned pals. And man, were they concerned. Brian carefully took off Dill's skates, made him comfortable...and helped him laugh away a bit of the pain. These guys are Great.

John went with Dill in the ambulance and I followed, zigging and zagging my way around blocked streets, about 10 mins later...arriving to find his patella back where it should be...and relieved that color was returning to Dill's face. A bit of juice, a lesson on the crutches, a signature here, a signature there...and an hour or so later, we were on our way home...easier said than done with tree carnage EVERYwhere!

Our 12-minute trip took more than an hour.

By the time the garage door went up, our nerves were frazzled and we were hungry. John took the cooking reins and I took the mixing ones...Make it Strong! he said...My Brown-and-Serve chef prepared grilled Gouda and Havarti on multigrain bread with tomatoes while I shook a couple mean Martinis.

And for the moment, our family room became an oasis of calm in this week's storm.