Walk a mile (or three) in my chic flip-flops

Last night, as the kids were showering, we heard a loud "BOOM!" and the house shook. It felt like a tree hit the house. I ran outside, walked all around the house and found . . . nothing. I called the neighbors to see if they'd heard it. Nope. I checked the basement, attic, every room in the house to see if something fell. Nada.

This morning, AG and I headed out for school. I hit the garage door opening and there was a CLUNK.

Eureka. The massive spring thingy that lifts and lowers the door had a catastrophic failure and snapped last night. The garage door was sealed shut thanks to the dead weight without the spring.

• T's in New York on business.
• AG is in her finest 1970's togs for today's Decades Project and dance.
• AG and A have to be at their SEPARATE schools by 8.
• And I have a full workload at the Nature Center.

Well, this is fun.

So I march-stepped AG to Austin on foot, turned around and called a neighbor to get A to Dunwoody High at the same time. I called the ever-wonderful Dunwoody Door to come fix the garage (Mr. DD said he'd be at the house by 11, hurray!). I walked to work via one of the social trails connecting Wyntercreek to the park, then walked back in time to meet Mr. DD.

This entire time, traversing 3+ miles, I was wearing my favorite hand-dyed linen skirt and flippy flops. Because I was dressed. I looked good. And I didn't want to change.

(The photo to the right is of our wetlands boardwalk, the only "paved" trail in the park. I was flippy-flopping on MULCHED, rooty, terraced trails.)

Yeah, I'm crazy.