My day began innocently enough. In fact, I thought things were going well. My new ballet flats had finally stopped pinching at the heel, there was one last spray of my favorite perfume left in an otherwise empty bottle, and all the children were healthy and at school.
I didn't suspect anything ominous when the Milgard techs knocked on my door. We had waited 3 weeks for two new windows, and I was happily surprised to see the men in red. They were young, clean-cut and friendly. I talked with them for a few moments, put our dog Matilda in a bedroom, and went back to my office. I was Googling Amazon, seeking out books so obscure they can be purchased for mere cents. All was good, and then the glass shattered.
Amazed, I covered my mouth with my hand as nervous laughter bubbled in my throat. I remember thinking, "You have got to be kidding me. My window just broke."
I stepped into the living room, and the techs were frozen in place with a cockeyed vinyl window frame still in their hands. "Are you alright?" I asked. They nodded in the affirmative. One of them was doing some deep breathing exercises and the other was murmuring "Let it go. Just let it go." I'm guessing the first guy was trying really hard to be calm. I have to give credit to these men. Very professional behavior. No cursing at all. Had I been in their place, the air would still be a soft shade of blue.
I felt really bad for the techs. One of their enormous glass suction cups lost its grip, causing the 8 foot by 5 foot picture window to fall and once the corner of the glass hit the tile, the whole thing exploded. Exploding glass can't be a good way to start your work day. The three of us vacuumed and swept for an hour at least to pick up the worst of the mess. We were comrades in an epic battle against hidden sharpness.
Being part raccoon, I enjoy sparkly things, and there was sparkle in the extreme that day. I had cleaning ADHD! The glass fragments reflected the sunlight coming through the open window, showering my ceiling with fiery brilliance. I kept looking up and trying to sweep at the same time. My floor was one big prism! I felt like I was in the movie Pollyanna when she brings crystals to cheer up the mean old lady. It was awesome! Awesome! A mid-winter Fourth of July!
I would have sat there all day entranced by my ceiling only there was no place to sit. Glass fragments covered my entire main floor: from the mudroom to the front door and everywhere in between. Eventually, the techs left for another job, and there began a five hour cleaning spree, with me, my bucket of water and a cloth in the thick of the action. Word to the wise . . . do not brush glass dust with your finger. Ouchie!!!
Never fear, all is well at our home now, but for one afternoon, I had the shiniest floor in town.
Isn't this just like life? You think you know what to expect and then--wham!-- something happens to mess up your plans. Oh, well, planning is sometimes overrated, and the unexpected often leaves you with a good tale to tell.
Everyone out there okay? Is your stress level low, medium, or high?
Happy, catastrophe-free, weekend!!