Fishy, Fishy, Fishy

Christina and I went to bed around 11 p.m. last night. It is somewhat unusual for both of us to be in bed that early, so the night already started off strange. Then, at 12:19 a.m. (I remember specifically) the doorbell rang. I don't know if I've ever even heard the doorbell before that. Bella, of course, went crazy with the most ferocious bark I've ever heard her make. Nobody visits us during the day time, now in the middle of the night?

I managed to find some pants and stumbled to the door, still wondering if I had dreamed the whole thing -- and wishing for the first time that I owned a handgun. I was still hoping there wasn't really anybody there when a flashlight beam went across the window next to the door. Now, I was officially terrified (as if I wasn't before). I peaked through the blinds, and, believe it or not, felt yet another wave of adrenalin pump into my blood stream, further increasing my terror. It was a police officer.

I did a mental checklist to make sure the I KNEW McKay was in bed -- and then wondered if someone could have gotten in without me knowing. In retrospect, it was a strange thought, since even if something had happened to McKay, I have no idea how they would connect him to us. (As a side note, I am now considering having our names and phone numbers tattooed on his butt...)

I cracked the door just a tiny bit, and the officer asked if I owned the pickup in front of our house. Finally, the rush began to subside. Imagine being relieved at this thought: "Whew, its only that somebody ran into my truck." But it wasn't that, either. He just wanted me to move my truck, because, well, because the whole road had flooded, and the water was creeping its way up our driveway.

Turns out a water main had busted, not 15 feet from our driveway. I rolled up my pants and waded through water deeper than my ankles to move my truck into the high part of our driveway. (Thank heavens I drive a pickup and not a small Honda or something...)

It took awhile to fall back asleep, as I stressed about them demolishing the entire road in front of our house, and me not being able to get out to go to school in the morning to take my exam, and debating calling one of my friends in the middle of the night. Finally, though, sleep came, and carried me through the night -- until about 5 a.m., when the backhoe showed up. I monitored the situation for awhile, making sure they weren't going to block me in, and then caught another hour of sleep from about 6 to 7 a.m.

The damage seemed to be minimal, except for not having water for most the day and mud deposits on the road. We do live next door to a little pond, though, so that complicated the flood somewhat -- like all the little Coy fish that got washed out into various mud puddles around our house. Thank heavens, though, that our one-woman rescue team (Christina) jumped into action, grabbing live fish with her BARE HANDS and carrying them back to the pond.

She also netted hundreds (without exaggeration) of minnows and a handful of tadpoles, complete with little legs just starting to form, for her own collection. (Since a very stern man with a quiet voice came and told her not to put the minnows or tadpoles back in the pond.) Because they are draining the pond in a few weeks to get all the mud out. Now, what are we going to do with them? I am wondering the same thing...