In Which I Thwart Death, and Lunch With Friends

It was a day that held much more adventure than I expected. First, let me tell you about the lunch date. I am fortunate to be blessed with dear friends. Some of them are newer friends and some of them are older friends; in fact, there is a group of swell women I lunch with whom I have been friends with since 1985! One of them is the lady who hired me to my first full-time job at Penn State, for which I am truly grateful.

The pandemic disrupted our lunch plans for more than a year. Our last full lunch date together was last February, and we went to Gigi's that time. A few weeks ago, I received an email from my former boss, and she wanted to set up a lunch date - maybe at Gigi's again, outdoors this time - now that we were all vaccinated and ready to roll. So we set up plans for Wednesday, and I told them I'd meet them there. The venue is less than a half-hour's drive from our house.

The week rolled around and I saw that the forecast for the day included potentially powerful thunderstorms at some point later in the day. My husband's forecast said they'd arrive sometime in the afternoon; mine said not till evening. Well, guess whose forecast was proven WRONG!

Here is a sidebar story. Since the pandemic started, I have not been driving much. I used to drive to the office - about a 20- to 25-minute drive - four days a week. During pandemic time, while I worked at home, my 1998 Mazda Protege mostly sat. Late last year, it developed a leak in the power steering line, which nearly took it down; but my husband taped it up with magic tape and got it fixed in March for twenty dollars!

Yes, the Mazda's growing long of tooth, and its days are probably numbered; it also has had suspension issues as it has gotten older, which means that I need to be very careful of hitting bumps. Any major bump could be its last. There are roads I know of that are "safe" roads. There are roads I no longer drive it on. What this also means is that I MUST be able to see the road to drive it gently, so that I can miss or slow down for all of those bumps!

So when we heard that rain was expected, my husband volunteered to drive me to my lunch date and drop me off, and pick me up later. But I demurred. I love to drive my car and blast loud music (Barry Gibb's new album Greenfields on this day, thank you very much), and I had no idea how long we'd be at lunch. It had been SO long since I'd seen my old friends, and I didn't want to feel rushed. I also had another errand or two I might do on the way.

So in the end, the weather radar map was clear in late morning when it was time to go, and I got in my Mazda and drove it, carefully, to my lunch date. We had a lovely visit - four out of six of us made it this time - and we caught up on all the personal news we missed out on in the past more-than-year.

We sat outdoors, and the clouds started to gather. It became quite breezy, and began blowing things off our table. But overall, it was pleasant, and we were under a big umbrella (which you may see reflected in my spoon), so we had shade. There was nobody sitting closer to us than about 15 or 20 feet away, which was also very safe feeling, in these semi-post-pandemic times.

I ordered the French onion soup and the house salad, and both were quite good, but the soup was REALLY good. I had it once before there and it was mostly broth, but this time it was full of wonderful onions and crostini and topped with provolone cheese. The house salad consisted of field greens, pickled red onions, candied pecans, goat cheese, and pecan peach vinaigrette.

As we wrapped up our lunch date, the clouds were turning darker and we spoke of the weather. "They haven't ruled out a tornado this afternoon," someone said. I wanted to stop at Harner Farms' market store to look at hanging plants. I also had thoughts of a quick walk at Fairbrook Park.

I bid farewell to my friends and headed over to the farm market store and checked out the plants. The hanging planters were amazing, but they didn't have any fuchsia (aka: Dancing Girls), which is what I was most coveting. As I took my purchase - two salvia plants, one deep purple and one called blue suede shoes - to the register, it began to rain. Just a couple of fast drops. And that was it. I said to the lady, "That was our warning shot." And I got in my car, abandoned plans for a hike, and headed straight home.

Well, little did I know that a huge, vicious thunderstorm cell was heading right my way! I took the back way home - Whitehall to Tadpole to Marengo - and by the time I was past the gamelands, it was raining in earnest. As I neared what used to be an elk farm, the rain came down in torrents. Wave after wave after wave after wave!

The road turned into a river. Then a flood. Then came the terrible winds, which bent the trees nearly down to the ground! I have had lots of experience of being in a house when trees fell on it, but I have never been in a CAR when that happened. And I prayed that this wouldn't be the day!

So I noted those bending trees, I could barely see the road in the blinding rain, but I prayed hard and held my breath - and then I FLOORED it - and zipped under those swaying trees, and made it to the corner where the Ross Church sits. From there, the rain subsided some, and I was able to make it safely home. Whew!

Who should be waiting for me at home but my husband and Tiny Tiger, both of whom were worried sick. T. Tiger tends to be my little mascot, but he wasn't with me on this day. (Princess Leia: "T. Tiger, you're my only hope!") My husband got out his iPad and showed me the weather map, and the magenta/purple cell that had nearly gotten me and my car. It was a narrow escape, but we made it!

That same powerful storm cell moved on east from there, and it went into State College, where it took down a bunch of trees, knocked down some signs, and closed roads. Then it moved on to Harrisburg, and with gusts of up to 60 mph, did even more awful stuff. It took out power for more than 20,000 people. Today's news is full of that big storm's path of destruction!

It is a funny thing about adventures like this. When you are in one, it may not seem like any fun at all. But later on, it can become A Grand Story. And so now, the morning after, I feel oddly happy and sort of energized by the whole experience. I woke up this morning singing the REO Speedwagon hit, Riding the Storm out, for my husband at top volume!

The Mazda's part of it all, of course, as it has been part of so many of the stories and pictures I've posted on these pages. We are a team, that car and I, and with this latest adventure, I feel that we cheated death. My husband observed: "You just HAD to take that little Mazda out on one last little Hell-ride, didn't you?" Yes, I did! Good little Mazda, to bring me safely home!

The soundtrack song has to be this one: REO Speedwagon, with Riding the Storm Out.