July 9th Challenge

Hi it’s Christina –

Good Morning! It is going to be another hot and sunny day in Central, New Jersey, but it will only reach the high eighties today, instead of the nineties like the past few days.

Lys didn’t want me to say anything before, but now that it’s pretty much common knowledge around here, I think I can. She will not be returning to Champlain College in the fall. Vermont in the winter is just not her thing, and I can’t say I blame her. That, paired with not feeling challenged by her classes, made the decision to leave fairly easy.

For months now, we have been trying to get all of Lys’ paperwork transferred from Champlain to High Point University in North Carolina, and have had nothing but delays. It’s rather ironic, don’t you think, that they managed to delay things just long enough where she can no longer get her registration deposit and her housing deposit back? Conveniently, they will be keeping a thousand dollars, and if they keep dragging their feet, she is going to miss the deadline to get into High Point.

What, do they think if she missed the deadline, she’ll be forced to return to their school? News flash, it ain’t happening. I’d rather have her take a semester off then return to a school with less than honorable practices. I’m so frustrated at this point, partly because of what they are doing, but also because I was gullible enough to drink their Kool aide. Like my daughter, I had been so impressed by the school, only to find it was an illusion.

After a few hours of writing, then dealing with the college, I went to work. Thankfully it was a real easy day. RV knows Tuesdays are my crazy day, so we usually limit them to one appointment and no running around. I finished up early and was able to take a nap before I had to leave for my writing group.

We had a good group last night. Tamara, who is part of the critique group, showed up thinking it was critique night. She got her Tuesdays mixed up, but we convinced her to stay, since she was there anyway. There were two new girls, Calley & Jacquelyn, who are only in town for a few weeks. They are interning at Princeton University, and decided to spend their night off with us. The “regulars” were there, so it was good to see them, but then a member, who has been m.i.a. for several months, showed up. It was so nice to see Sue again, I only wish we had had more time to catch up.

When I left my writing group last night, and began my drive home, it started to monsoon. The wipers were on full tilt, and I was dodging debris as I inched along at an earthshattering ten miles per hour. The bolts of lightning piercing the night sky were impressive, frightening, but impressive. I was seriously concerned if I would make it home before a tree branch crashed through my car.

I was kicking myself for taking my usual back road route as opposed to going the slightly longer, but less tree filled, highway route. As soon as I crossed the border between Princeton and Montgomery, the rain subsided considerably. Then, when I crossed the border between Montgomery and my town, the roads were bone dry. Okay, I thought, I got ahead of the storm. Now I won’t get drenched getting from the car to the house, my only worry is not getting hit by lightning.

It was all good. I pulled in the driveway. I parked my car on the lawn instead of at the top of the driveway where it would have been under a tree – Princeton looked like a war zone, there were downed trees and branches everywhere, and the storm was headed our way. I gathered my things, and got into the house incident free.

I bring the dog out to be emptied this morning, expecting to see a holy mess, and all is as it should be. I doubt it even rained here last night, so now I’m thinking, dang, I should have watered the garden. It always amazes me when I’m on the edge of the storm line. Princeton is only twelve miles away. They got a deluge; we got nothing. 

Guess I need to water this morning, before the sun gets too high, which means I have to go out now.

I hope you have a great day, and happy writing!

Your Last Challenge was:

“You can’t marry him/her!”

(The love of your life is about to marry someone else.)

Nicholas ~

I am writing you because, even after all these years, I still cannot find the courage to reveal to you, face to face, my true feelings. However, desperate times call for desperate measures; and the possibility of you marrying Margie is about as desperate as it gets, so I needed to start somewhere.

We have been the best of friends for over a decade now. We laugh together, cry together, and are the first person each other calls, when something important, or not so important, happens in our lives. Our families know and love each other.

We love each other, and have expressed it many times, but what I think you fail to see is that, not only do I love you, but I am in love with you. There, I said it. In plain English, so there can be no room for misinterpretation.

I couldn’t let you propose without knowing how I truly felt. If you feel the same, I’ll be on the park bench, at seven o’clock, on Saturday morning. You know which one.

~ Diana

Yeah, a prompt right up my alley. I even had time to go back and fix a booboo before my ten minutes were up.

Your Next Challenge is (from my writing group):

Use the following three: Parrot, Cerulean, Defenestrate (feel free to look it up, most of us didn’t know what it meant either)

You have ten minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count, and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.

July 29th

Hi, it’s Christina –
 

That’s it, I give up! It has got to be a sign that I am not meant to go to the Balloon Festival. We were caught in a monsoon!

 

After the concert, which was pretty dang good, I headed back to the van to get rid of my chair. My hubby, our friend and her boyfriend, his son, her sons and my daughter were about five minutes behind me. (We had the better parking spot, so we took all the chairs, blankets and coolers.) Anyway, when I see the group coming, I hop out of the van and start taking the chairs they were carrying over the fence so they wouldn’t have to carry them all the way around, and I toss them in the trunk. As I’m doing this it starts to rain a little.

My girlfriend, no longer burdened with a chair, has made it to my van. It starts raining a little harder. That’s when everyone decides they are going to take refuge in my van until the storm passes. I have fifteen chairs, two coolers, all the bags filled with the free-bees they give you at the festival, plus the bags of snacks we brought from home; and now eight people are expected to ride out the storm in the van as well. YIKES!

 

 

We decide the chairs have been wet before, they can get wet again, and it was perfectly fine for coolers to be out in the rain, so we pull everything water safe out of the trunk. Now it’s raining hard. Our crew starts running to the car. One by one they make it. At this point, it’s pouring and everyone is soaked to the bone.

I do a head count; two in the front, three in the middle (it’s a two-seater with a consul between the seats), and three in the trunk. I’m short one kid! My youngest daughter did not make it back. Apparently she had gone off with her cousin to find a friend. I manage to get a hold of her, her and her cousin are taking shelter under one of the tents. My sister-in-law and two of her kids are under another tent, and my in-laws have safely made it to a third tent. The family is riding out the storm in four separate locations. My concern is for the fourteen and thirteen year old who have no adult with them.

I want to go and find them, but they can’t tell me exactly where they are, and the rain is coming down in sheets. My baby’s out there cold and wet and scared; I’m starting to panic. She was fine. Cold and wet, yes, but much more annoyed than scared. She was going to stay put until the rain let up.

Forty-five minutes or so later, the rain lets up considerably. They all find each other and make it back to the bus that gets them to their car. We, on the other hand, are blocked in by, not one, but two balloon trucks which are stuck rim deep in the mud. There were cars and trucks stuck all over the lot where we were parked, everyone waiting for the backhoe to come around and pull them out. We decide to take a chance and see if we can get out. I make everyone pile out of the car so it has less weight. We survey the area to find a small patch of higher ground. That was the spot my husband was to shoot for; he was not to stop until he reached it. The rest of us would walk to the van and get in there. With my hubby’s fancy maneuvering and all hands on van to push the second wheels started to spin, he was able to reach the Promised Land.

Getting our friends back to where their car was parked was another ordeal but half an hour later, we managed to get them safely to their car. Another Balloon Festival weather disaster, another time the balloon launch gets cancelled; yeah, I’m really thinking I’m not supposed to go to these things.

 

Oh goodness, I just saw the time. We are supposed to be leaving for the beach in less than an hour and I don’t have anything done yet. Bye, have a great day. We’ll do the writing challenges tomorrow.