Sometimes things that happen in my life are so far-fetched and crazy, that I’m pretty sure if I recreate the events on my blog, people won’t believe me. Actually, some days I think people would believe I should be locked away, before injury occurs! Yesterday was one of those days…but it was so unbelievable, that I HAVE to share it. I just do.

Tuesday started off as a normal day. (I mean, as normal of a day as you ever have when you’re in the hospital for a week with a 2-year-old who refuses to drink.) But around 3 p.m. the nurse came in and said that the doctor had a plan. His plan was to have George go home for the night. He thought regular routine would maybe kick in his desire to drink. Although nervous about the thought of being home without him drinking, the appeal of sleeping in my own bed and seeing my boys was great enough to think it was worth a shot. And so we drove home.

After arriving home and realizing that I had a lot of work to get done, I started in with dishes. And then a phone call came. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was a local cell phone, so I answered. It went something like this, “Yeah, this is ____. My dad crashed his plane on your land and I need to know how to get to him.” WHAT?!? I had been home all of 10 minutes, and my brain couldn’t comprehend what was going on yet.

We ended up disconnected before I had too much information. So I called Boss Man, who told me that he had contracted someone to spray our beans east of the farm. At least now I had a clue as to which area we were talking about. I called the neighbor, who told me to call 911. I called 911, instructing them to the approximate area of where I believed the plane went down. And I also gave them the neighbors cell phone number, so at least they could talk to someone on the scene.

The man’s son called back, and I gave him directions to the area. All of this occurred, and I never left my office.

When I saw lights flashing, I stepped outside, in case there was confusion and they pulled into our yard instead. And the whole time I prayed, and prayed and prayed. It was so surreal, I was beginning to think I dreamed it all. And then I heard the chopper.

And it dawned on me that the pilot had survived the crash and was in dire need of medical attention.

Mark wasn’t home yet. (Did I happen to mention that he had taken our other 3 boys to an auction sale, the transfer case went out of his pick-up and hour from home and he happened to have a friend at the same McD’s as him, who pulled him the whole way home? Did I mention that?) But when he arrived home, he headed over there.

He helped with loading the fuselage…and today he will help with loading the wings. (Apparently the FAA, nor the towing company, has a loader tractor.)

I didn't take many pictures, but I did take one of the wing, so that I at least had physical evidence that I'm not insane...yet.

Today, I head back to the doctor with George to find out if his CO2 levels are high enough for us to stay home. (Did I also mention that while wrapped up in all this craziness, he helped himself to what was left of the sherbet in the freezer??? Yay!)

I just hope today is a slow day. I don’t think I can handle any more excitement.