One Year Ago Today

One year ago today, I was 108 8 months pregnant with Natalie. I was hot, uncomfortable, and cranky, and in no mood to cook supper. We ordered Chinese take-out, and I took Sammy with me to pick up our food. When we stepped out the restaurant's front door, there was a group of people gathered on the sidewalk, talking in shocked, hushed voices about a bridge collapse. When I got back to my car, I flipped on the radio to the news station, and waited to hear which bridge had collapsed, thinking maybe California had had another earthquake or some such thing.

I was shocked to hear it was the 35W bridge. The bridge that I'd crossed twice every day since 2001, on my way to and from work. The bridge that, just the previous week, I had crossed with my then-19-month-old in the car, on the way to the zoo.

Later, I was to learn that a pregnant woman and her 22-month-old daughter died in the collapse. I couldn't help but imagine myself in her situation. How panicked I would be as I tried to save myself and my children, and how difficult it would be to get into the backseat and unbuckle Sammy's carseat in time.

I've always been afraid of bridges, especially those that go over water. I thought it was an irrational fear, but was proved wrong by the events of one year ago today.

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Last Saturday, I took the kids to Fort Snelling, and returned home on 35E. The next day I learned that, a mere hour after we passed under this particular bridge on our way home, a 6-foot-by-9-foot chunk of concrete fell off of it onto a passing car. Luckily, no one was seriously hurt in that incident.

I am getting a bit paranoid to leave my house these days.

Ron says that I'm overreacting to the whole near-electrocution incident. He claims that he stuck something in an outlet as a child, and although "it's something you only do once", he lived to tell the story. Hmm, you know...that might explain that weird glow. And that zzzztt sound whenever a mosquito lands on him.


I'm not too sure I trust him when it comes to matters electric, though. You see, a few years ago, I decided to put a garden in the back yard. There's a shed in the back, and the previous owners ran an underground electrical wire from the garage to the shed. At some point, Ron chopped the wire off where it ran into the shed. Since he was able to do that without incident, and the fact that the frayed end had been exposed to the elements for years, he was convinced there was no power in that line. Like a lamb to the slaughter the trusting wife that I am, I started tilling. When I was a few feet away from the shed, I felt a jolt. Hmm, I thought, I must have hit a rock. I picked up the tiller and moved it a few inches, thinking I'd be clear of the rock. Another jolt, stronger than the first. Wow, that must be a really big rock, I thought. I picked up the tiller again, and moved it a couple of feet away. ZZZTTTT!!!! That's when I finally realized that I was getting shocked. That and the fact that I could smell scorched hair (kidding about that part, of course).

I guess getting shocked is not necessarily "something you only do once". At least not if you're me.

Happy Birthday, Sammy!

Hours old.

Mmmmm...cake. (1st birthday)

Bright & early this morning
(he insisted that Santa be in the picture, too)

And this one's for Grandma, who rounded up this pony for him at Christmas.

Yee-haw!