In this time leading up to Halloween, there is always a lot of talk about “luck”. Be it good or bad, luck is, I believe, what you make of it.
Rewind to Monday. The sky opened its black clouds and deposited a deluge upon the land like a sheet of frosted glass. Through the fog of dense rain, I witnessed our creek – which we have to traverse in order to gain access to the outside world, and is normally not visible from the window I stood behind – swelled to bursting, as its tempo accelerated to a dizzying allegro, and timpani drums thundered above.
When the storm passed, hubby and I ventured out to inspect the damage.
A few rocks – not small – had found their way into the center of the, by then, torrent of water, and basked in their newfound home at the exact spot we normally drive across.
How were we ever going to make it across without damaging the truck or the jeep? An extremely important appointment at Oklahoma VA loomed at 1pm on Tuesday, and we were both loath to miss it for the sake of a few boulders. That is even assuming we could get through the raging river that our creek then resembled.
Tuesday morning. The creek had diminished in volume, but still ran with the speed of lightning, and still contained said rocks.
Could we risk it? Even if the still-formidable tide didn’t carry our vehicle downstream, how would we traverse those boulders? We surely did not want to miss that appointment, and had to leave soon if we were to start the four-hour journey in time. Hubby had an idea.
“We can try to drive around the rocks.” He rubbed his chin. “If we can, we will make it.”
Doubtful as I was, I agreed. Who knew when we might get another appointment in Oklahoma?
He edged the truck toward the obstacle and passed by the rocks to our left. So far so good. Then we had to turn. Almost there. The tires slipped and slid as their attempt to get a grip on the slate rock creek-bottom seemed set to fail.
“Come on, girl, you can do it!” He patted the truck’s dash. “Just a little more.”
I had no wish to see us washed away with the strong current, so I closed my eyes. When I opened them, the truck was climbing the other side, apparently no worse for wears.
“Woot woot, we did it! High five.” Hubby held up his hand, and I complied.
On the way to Oklahoma, the weather cleared. Miraculous! But as we reached the state line, we noticed the condition of the roads deteriorate in dramatic fashion. Might as well have been riding a horse-drawn carriage, for all the comfort I received from that freeway.
However, we did make the appointment. You might say “luck”, but if we had not taken the chance to navigate the creek and it’s new boulders, we would never have managed it.
We even managed to park close to the hospital entrance. “Luck” again? No.
Almost at our destination, the TomTom took us on an excursion, and followed the “detour” path. Clever of her, wasn’t it? Well, yes. Because, if she had taken the usual route, we would not have been able to slot right into a very recently vacated parking space – we saw the previous occupant leave – since we would have driven past a still full spot.
All I shall tell you, my reader, about the very important appointment is that it went well, and we left it suitably informed, and with even more respect and faith in the hospital concerned. Suffice to say, we shall be allowing then to continue with hubby’s care in this matter.
Needless to say, I was overjoyed to see this sign after our long day.
So, do you think we make our own luck?
I would love to hear your thoughts about it.