Rescuing

I have had this nice little post composed in my head for a few days about rescuing. I was going to tell you about how I found this old duvet cover in the thrift store with these HUGE HIDEOUS white patches on it, but after some poking around I decided that the original fabric was pretty well intact under the patches and so I bought it for a dollar thinking I could just remove those big white patches and rescue it.
And then I did just that, even though it took nearly 3 hours to get all of that ugly white stuff removed (she had REALLY sewn it on there! lines of stitching every six inches, oy vey). And how underneath that ugly white stuff (which was on both sides), there was just one small tear.
And I couldn't imagine why she had covered up this perfectly beautiful aqua fabric that way. And how I was glad I took the time to rescue it.
And then I was prepared to tell you that in a true "sign of the times" I have taken to patching Jack's jeans, rescuing them for a few months worth of use until it is warm enough for shorts. And how this is the first time I have actually patched clothing in something like 15 years, despite being thrifty. (And how Jack will wear them, but he says he will NOT wear them to school. How early it starts.)

And then I was going to tell you that we are going camping this weekend. And even though the forecast says it will rain I am desperately looking forward to the break from cooking and cleaning and nagging. Time to sit with our friends and their kids and cook out and maybe do some reading and some hand sewing and some fishing and some hiking and on and on.

And so yesterday I decided I had better take down the Easter stuff before we left and I needed just one more bin for the big foil bunny Dave bought me this year so Jack and I trotted off to Target to get the job done.

And then it all fell apart.

As it turns it out was *me* that was going to be in need of rescuing.

On the way to Target some totally crazy broad decided to make a right hand turn from the left lane and came smashing into my minivan.

I pulled into a bank parking lot, made sure the Jack attack was ok and got out of the van. And the next thing I know said crazy broad is in my face, screaming and crying and flailing and wailing and it was like nothing I have ever seen before.

That combined with her having just smashed into my car WITH MY CHILD IN IT sent me into overdrive. I am normally a pretty damn laid back person. It takes a lot to get me "het up" if you know what I mean. I was just trying to get to a phone to call the police (I don't have a cell phone) and she wouldn't stop her carrying on in front of Jack, so I started to yell and throw around a few choice words and then I went inside a bank to get someone to call the police. (It really triggered some sort of mother bear thing for me and her carrying on about her own 2 year old did not help. Does she act like that in front of her toddler? Good lord.)

She carried on inside the bank so much that I am sure people thought they were being robbed. The manager came running out yelling about calming down and finally dialed 911.

Thank goodness the very nice man behind me had stopped and waited with me for the police. I am not sure I could have handled all that craziness by myself.

And of COURSE, she is uninsured (yes, you are required to have it by law, but the law really does not enforce that here). Knowing she was uninsured she called here like 16 times yesterday, which makes me insane. (And to add insult to injury in all of her carrying on in the bank she said she had just had an accident last week! WTF?)

So, my car is smashed, Jack's car seat needs to be replaced, and my back is hurting a bit still. But we are ok. (And really, she turned it into SO much more drama than it needed to be.)

And with that, we are still going camping, and I have absolutely NOTHING together. And only about 3 hours to get it all together.

Here's hoping it goes smoother than the trip to Target.