The hour at which I left Maine was really quite insane...what ever possessed me to book a flight AT 6 am?
Bless Songbird for taking me to the airport so early...hoping she got more rest thereafter, as I did en route from Portland to DC. I had two uneventful flights and Ken and 2 happy dogs picked me up at the airport afterward. We drove to Fort Worth for him to do a work errand, stopped at Sonic for lunch-in-the-car-with-the-dogs, and headed home. It is HOT. Oh golly, is it hot here!
Just as we got to the place where Bonnie Brae exits 35W and goes under 35E to get to our house, and were waiting at the light, a car came tumbling over the metal barrier, hit a ledge, and fell to the service road below, miraculously landing on its tires. The building you can see across the road is Fouts Field, UNT's football stadium, and the car came over just to the left of that in this photo.
It very nearly hit a car going below, which managed to swerve. Ken stopped in the road and ran to the car, and I started trying to call 911 (both dogs scrambling around on my lap). I looked up and realized the police were already there somehow, helping an older man out of the car. The police car had been sitting on the right shoulder, apparently.
I hung up on 911, but apparently the dogs and their dancing feet managed to speed-dial my sister on the phone, and she later got to hear a 3-plus minute recording of my frantic praying as I watched the man being seated on the side of the road, stopped motorists asking if they could help, Ken coming back to our car.
I don't know what happened to make the car come over like that...have been searching local news, but I may never know. Such a shock. Life is so very fragile, and I have had a lifelong horror of doing just what he did (though mine started with a recurring childhood dream of driving on a very elevated part of Houston's I-59 at night, realizing I was a kid and didn't KNOW how to drive, and driving over the side...then waking up).
Anyway, a restorative nap later I am ready to unpack, catch up on laundry, and figure out what to do for dinner.
I'm so grateful for the little time away; for Songbird and her family, who welcome me as one of them and allow me to slip into their day to day; for musicals on the IPod, books on the bedside table and open windows with sweet cool breezes; for long dog walks; for Karla, Jean, Holly and Sue, who came to visit; for the Portland Farmer's Market and those I saw there, and for Moxie, which I now have.