Food for the Soul

So on second look the next morning, my car, Violet, looked much worse than I first thought.  I woke up with neck pain on both sides of my neck and a general achy feeling in my body, spine, and joints.  Violet not only had scuffs and scratches, but a missing front license plate, a dislodged headlight, and a front panel that is hanging down on one side.

 

Driving by the scene of the accident, Mom thankfully spotted my license plate in the street.  But this whole thing had still put me in quite a funk.  Which lasted all day yesterday, through the night and into this morning.  It was abated a bit by Mom making nachos– the first “real” nachos I’ve ever had– ie, made with real corn chips.  They were incredible and the best I’ve ever had.  With cheddar cheese and topped with kidney beans, this, and some “How I Met Your Mother” helped cheer me, at least for a bit.

But today the feeling just wouldn’t shake.  So when I finally stopped whimpering and got out of bed (for the second time), I decided to make some food so I could take some Advil.  This turned into tomato soup doctored up with garlic powder and chopped potato with a roll on the side.  So tasty!  But I wasn’t done yet.

Last week, I’d found a recipe for Cheddar Broccoli Corn Bake. I was actually on my way to pick up more broccoli when my car got hit.  So I decided to make this today.

  

And, for dessert,  Blueberry Shortcake (more about where this recipe came from soon– although you can follow the link for the recipe that inspired it– Mom and I are both allergic to Strawberries, so I substituted).

The results were yummy.  And, somewhere between the cooking, baking, and eating, my sadness was transformed into calm again.   Not unlike how the cheese, milk, butter, and flour transformed into a delicious cheese sauce.

An Airbag of Angels

Pulling into the supermarket parking lot yesterday, the thought flashed through my mind that I’m worried that my car will be destroyed by the end of this summer.  People have been driving so crazy.

My mini fender bender was just two short weeks ago.  A few days after this, the car next door was hit in the middle of the night by a drunk driver.  The road I live on curves and, apparently, the driver was too fast, came around the curve and slammed into the first parked car that was there, managed to keep going (up on the curve) and then drive back into the street.  He stopped and, thanks to another neighbor, was caught and arrested– but one of the neighbors said that he was just inches from my car– which was also clear from the dirt marks still fresh on the road the next morning.  I was thankful that God not only allowed me to make it unscathed from my own mistake, but also protected my car from unseen, middle-of-the-night danger.

Yesterday, I was about two minutes from home when I approached a yellow light.  I was at that speed where you could possibly stop, but can probably more easily go– and as I could tell I had plenty of time to make my turn, I opted to do this as opposed to slamming on my brakes.  With left-turn signal on, I started turning into the intersection.  As I started to turn, I see a car coming around my left!  I partially stopped in shock, but not before the car hit my own (front driver’s side).  I pulled over, not realizing that I was now on the wrong side of the road because I missed my turn.  The other driver pulled over, although much further up ahead– hesitated a bit– and then pulled away!!  I am left with only scratches and scuffs on the car, it seems.  But I was pretty darn mad!  I can understand the urge to blow through the yellow light before it turns red– but not when there’s someone in front of you– and much less when you’re coming around my left when that’s the direction I’m turning towards.  And second, that you then wouldn’t even stop?! Not cool.

My mother always prays that there would be “an airbag of angels” surrounding my car.  Well done, angels.  Three times in three weeks, well done.

That said, there are some areas of life where creativity is not encouraged.  I’d appreciate if people drove a bit LESS creatively.

Bumper Cars, of the less fun variety

I hit a car yesterday on my way to school.  Nothing too terrible, although I felt really terrible about it.  I was stopped at a light.  The light turned, we all started moving.  I must have glanced down and the woman in front of me stopped.  I slammed into her, or at least it sounded like a slam as I was probably going only 5 to 10 miles an hour.  There was little to no damage (at most, a scratch, although that may have been there before– and some dust as I need to clean my car).  We exchanged information and got back in our cars.

Driving for about 4 years now, I’ve never hit anyone before.  I’ve been hit, in a very scary parkway accident that, miraculously, left both cars with no damage (only some scuff marks).  That was when I’d been driving about a year.

Getting back in my car yesterday, I was scared and shaking.  Everything loose in my car (some shoes, clothes, two stuffed animals– and my cell phone) had flown.  I moved some stuff back onto the seat and sat for a moment to collect myself.  I frantically tried to find the phone, but couldn’t.  I was meeting molecularsheep at school before we parted ways for our respective classes.  I was now late, with no way to reach him, and scared.

I sat in my car and realized that I couldn’t stay there forever.  I couldn’t call anyone to come get me without my phone, so I had to start driving again.  I made it to school uneventfully, pulled up next to molecular sheep’s car (who immediately knew something was wrong) and began to tell the story, sobbing.

He got out, hugged me, and helped calm me down.  He listened to everything and helped me find my phone.  I got my stuff for class, although I was already pretty sure I wasn’t going at this point, and we sat in his car for a bit while I called my dad, mostly because he holds the car insurance.

My dad was low-key about the whole thing.  Working hard to make sure that everything was ok, especially me and my car, and then to calm me down a bit.  He told me about his first two accidents as a driver, both which involved him hitting someone from behind (except, in his words, doing more damage).  As I was still shaking and my class is a dance class (requiring coordinated movement…), I opted to tag along with molecular sheep to main campus.  He had a full day of teaching and work, so I sat outside his building, in the shade of a beautiful day.  I called my mom.  I told her everything and, she too, tried to calm me down and make me feel better, as I felt immensely guilty and scared.  She told me about an accident she’d had.  We must have been on the phone for more than an hour, and I did feel better when I got off.

The rest of the day was spent reading the book that molecular sheep didn’t feel like carrying to class.  I was enthralled and– in between sandwiches and blueberries and another hours-long conversation with mom– read about 50 pages.

After school, we (molecular sheep and i) had already planned to go to Target, so we did.  We’d both been talking about planting some things– vegetables for me and him, herbs.  As we pulled up, the sign reminded me that Home Depot was right next door.  I suggested we go and after Target, we delighted in rows of vegetable plants and pots and soil.  He chose a variety of peppers, some herbs, raspberries, and tomato plants for his mom.  I got some corn and tomatoes (one cherry, one beefstake), and blueberries.  I also wanted red peppers, but they only had yellow and green (of the bell pepper variety).  I’m going tomorrow to get the red peppers at a local supermarket where I saw them the end of last week.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted, but feeling much better.  I’m grateful to have parents who, while they’ve pushed me over the years, knew that I’ve always been so hard on myself that they haven’t been hard on me (and instead have to help curb my thick guilt and sense of responsibility).  That plus a good friend, a good book, and a little gardening made the day so much better.