Locked car doors

I didn't really write that nonsense, did I?  All about rarely locking ourselves out of the car/van any more and now I have learned my lesson and I don't get mad or give the silence treatment  etc. etc.

That is just like an invitation for all of those things to happen . . .

A year ago Deanne and I drove to Ontario.  We visted my sister and her family.   Deanne went to a wedding.  It was all delightful with a trip to the little town of Shakespeare thrown in where we browsed through antique shops.  We went out for tea and I discovered blueberry tea. 

In the middle of all this fun we got a call from home.  Do you know where the extra van key is?

It was in my purse.  In Ontario.  So I think it was Ellis's turn to give me the silence treatment and I found out how that feels to be on the receiving end of it.

And then last spring . . . Ellis was going to Arkansas with his boss.  I drove him to Albert Lea early on a beautiful morning.  We met at a gas station/restaurant.  We took all of the luggage out of the van.  I shut the van door and noticed it didn't completely close.  Went to open it and reclose it.  It was locked. 

I looked in the window.  The keys were in the ignition.  My purse was on the floor between the seats.  My phone was in the purse.  My wallet was in there somewhere.  The only good thing was Ellis had not left yet.  Two more seconds and they would have been gone.  I was very grateful!

Ellis gave me some money and told me to go buy some coffee.  He would call our house and wake some one up and they would come rescue me.

The ironic thing about this whole event is this.  I was reading a book - it was in the van too - and the title was  Breathe. 

Yeah.

So I bought my coffee and went outside on that beautiful morning and sat at a cold stone table on a cold stone bench and tried not to shiver too violently.  I know you won't believe me when I say it was cold.  =)

The only thing to do was sit there and breathe . . .  and drink my coffee . . .   and think.

I prayed too.