A Three Hour Tour

My new best friends forever, Sherry and Dallas, just bought a boat. And she's gorgeous. I felt just the slightest pang of envy when the first pictures appeared on Facebook — the beautiful vessel, the happy new owners, the promise of endless summer fun. Then yesterday, they posted pictures that told a different story. Their most recent trip to the lake was a disaster — engine malfunction, stranded for hours in the searing sun, then lost in the pouring rain. Everything that could have gone wrong did. It looked horrific.

When our mutual friend, Susan, called me early this morning, the first words out of my mouth were, "Wow, weren't you glad you didn't get invited on that trip?"

"Funny you should say that, because we're invited today!"

I was out of the shower and in the car so fast it didn't even register that they were calling for the same weather today. And why would it? It looked so pretty.







At first.







And then, well, who could have predicted this? I mean besides everyone with a TV, newspaper, radio, or computer.







It didn't just rain. Have you ever been in one of those showers where the water spigots come at you from all directions? It was that, but with a broken water heater.







We all huddled low, trying to shield ourselves from the freezing torrent. Which seemed like a good idea, until the floor got so saturated that icy streams began to flow around us. In case that wasn't quite cold enough, the sky opened up and began pelting us with ice cubes. I am not making this up.

Just then, a menacing swarm of birds appeared out of nowhere.







Okay, I am making that up.







The truth is, the weather couldn't have been worse if it tried. But the company couldn't have been better. And if they ask me to go again next weekend, rain or shine, I'm there.
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