Scenes From Our Disaster Zone

Tuesday

The cubicle walls started vibrating at about 2:00 p.m.

My first thought: "Construction is really loud today."

My second thought: "I work in a huge concrete building. No way that's just construction. Earthquake! AWESOME!"

Coworkers popped their heads above the cubicle walls and started to panic. I laughed, because I am from Utah and we are filled with earthquake-related doomsday scenarios from birth. The shaking stopped. A rather panicked voice came over the loudspeaker a few minutes later and instructed us to exit the building. We grabbed our belongings and scurried down the staircase into the sunshine. The day care kids played games on the lawn. An older bloke decided he was so disturbed by the quake that he needed to smoke a cigar . . . right next to the day care kids. (Who keeps a cigar at work? I mean, other than Prohibition-era mobsters?) We mulled about for 45 minutes, then we were told to go home. I cheered.

Saturday

Most news outlets predicted the end of days. David and I ran some errands and half heartedly tried to figure out how to get more prepared than we already are. We strategically parked our cars far away from any large trees. David practically pranced with glee over the prospect of watching a large storm unfurl. A hurricane wasn't quite intense enough for us, so we decided to watch Jurassic Park that evening; tropical storms are much more awesome when raptors are involved.

Public Service Announcement: The effects in Jurassic Park have aged remarkably well. Sam Neill's American accent is still rubbish.

Don't hate me, Sam. You'll always be Merlin to me.

Sunday

We didn't lose power during night. Joy of joys. The storm in our area turned out to be quite mild compared to what other areas received, and David feels a little robbed. There are a few branches scattered across the sidewalks and streets.  Church was canceled, so we made breakfast and enjoyed quiet time at home. David went outside to inspect the carnage--he only spotted one tree partially ripped out of the ground in our entire apartment complex.

It was located directly in front of our two strategically placed cars.

Mmm. Heaven.

Back when we were all stressed and engaged and creating our wedding registries, David mentioned that he didn't care about flatware or stand mixers or tablecloths. Above all else, he wished for a raclette grill. David served his mission in France, where he became enamored with melted cheese poured on top of other tasty foods. It sounded sensible--and wonderful--to me. So I did what any sensible person would do: I gave David a raclette grill in honor of our marriage.

Sometimes I make good decisions.

We had a test run raclette party with just the two of us a while ago, but we've been itching to share the love with the DC-area Knells. On Sunday, we accomplished our mission. And it was divine.

Here's to you, melty cheese. Thank you for joining homemade bread in its effort to negate all possible benefits of avoiding sugar this summer.

(Obviously this is a photo stolen from the internet. I would never sully the magic of raclette with pickles. As if!)

Obituary of Wendy's Concept of Being Young, Vibrant, or at Least Mildly Interesting

Wendy's Concept of Being Young, Vibrant, or at Least Midly Interesting died August 1, 2011 during a routine grocery store purchase. It was tragically killed by Wendy's husband's archnemesis, Meta. Wendy's Concept was a talented bargain shopper, cook, and relisher of the simple joys of life. We rejoice that because Wendy's Concept was embodied by Wendy in word and deed, It will live on in an even brighter and more permanent state! It joins the already-celestialized Wendy's Dashing and Dazzling Physical Appearance and David's Appreciation for Dizzyingly Fascinating and Ultra-Intelligent Wives.

Might as well start using a walker and eating prunes.

After a spectacularly bad day at work yesterday, I rushed home to snag some groceries and make dinner. The best part of my early evening? I got a screaming good deal on chicken, and I was really excited for David to come home so I could tell him about it.


Consequently, it is now time for us to mourn the loss of

WENDY'S (PROBABLY DELUDED) CONCEPT OF BEING YOUNG, VIBRANT, OR AT LEAST MILDLY INTERESTING

It will be missed.