I have been running errands for two days, not getting much else done.
I am not stressing about it, what's the use, right?
When I got home tonight, DH said "let's go to the pasta bar downtown for dinner."
If it involves me not cooking, count me in.
I like to cook, but not always. Less and less, truth be known.
I like to cook certain things, and I love to bake.
So, in spite of the fact that it was pouring, and had been all day, we headed out anyway.
As we were driving downtown, I saw some smoke that looked out of place. I slowed down, and saw that the smoke was rolling out from under a porch roof. I pulled over, and we jumped out.
DH went to the house, pounding on the doors, and I called 911.
They asked me if there were flames yet, and just then, the flames exploded out the front window. DH made his way quickly off the porch. It seemed that no one was home.
Can I just tell you that fire is the most frightening thing. If you have never experienced it, count yourself lucky.
I had a barn that burned to the ground one winter night, while I was home alone in the country.
I have never been so unhinged in my life as I was that night.
All the while, the rain poured down. And I do mean POURED.
DH went next door to make sure there was no one home there, since it was only about 5 feet away from the fire.
Here he is getting away from it asap.
By the time we got to the restaurant, we were soaked through, and we smelled like smoke.
It was a relief to be away from the bedlam, and out of the rain. And the pasta bar is amazing.
And a glass of wine didn't hurt, either.