I'm going to have to write about the recent hurricanes. Why? Because I'm a Louisiana girl. No, I don't paddle a pirogue (small wooden canoe) to the grocery store or battle alligators on the way, but perhaps lately, that's not too far from the truth. My parents do, in fact, live on a bayou, and Hurricane Ike sent water all the way up to their back porch. I checked in with them periodically on their mobile phones while they were sipping coffee watching the storm blow through their backyard. They were lucky this time around. We were even luckier, which brings me to this neat little story...

Driving home from our recent vacation / evacuation, we had to pass through Baton Rouge headed west. Closely following our capital city is a bridge called the Atchafalaya. (ə-chāf'ə-lī'ə) (Click here to listen to someone say it!) It is truly a beautiful scenic pass on Interstate 10, especially at dusk, and I really love the springtime when all of the Cypress trees bud out in vibrant lime green hues. Sigh...

However, this lovely driving experience bears two lanes over swamp water, full of goodness knows what, and if there is any interruption in the flow of traffic, count on standing still for a minimum of 3 hours.

Anyway, back to the story. We had inched our way through Baton Rouge and had just passed the last exit before the Mississippi River Bridge when Lilly decided that she had to potty, B-A-D. Uh-oh. At a snail's pace, we crawled as fast as we could to the first exit beyond the Mississippi Bridge (before the Atchafalaya) and raced to the nearest fast food establishment for a potty dash. As soon as we opened the door to get out of the car, a kind stranger stopped us and asked which direction we were headed. I motioned for my husband to take that call and darted inside with Lilly in tow to the potty. WE MADE IT just in time! Whoohoo!

After my refreshed daughter and I exited the restroom, my husband told me why the guy had asked that question. The Atchafalaya was at a standstill. People had been stopped for over 4 hours waiting to cross. And because I was born and raised in good ol' Louisiana, I knew the back roads home. I thanked my lucky stars, warned anyone else we saw in the parking lot, continued our journey westward, and had a few silent thoughts for the people who were suffering. If only they had a toddler with a tiny little bladder...

Please keep the latest victims of Mother Nature in your thoughts. I also wanted to thank all of the volunteers and rescue workers for their tireless efforts. While we were driving, we passed caravans of countless rescue workers and volunteers. I knew how tired I would be after my drive home, but these precious souls had a long road ahead of them still, and as soon as they would arrive at their destination, had a task that was more than my little self could handle. I just had to remark that we were so fortunate to live in a country that will help us recover so quickly. So thank you to everyone from my little corner of the world.

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