Shipwrecked!

So, yesterday was a traumatizing debacle. I genuinely feel like I might need some therapy and valium. We took Mum & Dad's old car out to Robertson for a pie and then on out to Kiama to see the Blowhole and Lighthouse. There was a suspicious light on the dash, and LBH asked Dad about it before we left, but Dad said it was nothing. Well, it wasn't nothing. We got stranded. For hours upon hours. In the rainforest. At night. With children. In winter.

Between Robertson and Kiama is rainforest, and the road is very narrow -- one lane each direction, no shoulder. Tightest switchbacks I've ever seen. Did I mention rainforest?! The car died. Just... died. No place to pull over, the speed limit is 100km, but everyone goes faster. We didn't bring our cell phones with us because they don't work here, and Dad's was in the car but evidently a PIN is required to make it work. Guess who doesn't know the PIN?

Being so thrilled to discover that the temperatures outside yesterday were about 20 degrees warmer than inside Mum & Dad's house, we left for the afternoon in sweaters only. Once stranded, I prayed a lot, interspersed with short recitations in which the first word was holy. Sitting inside a car at night and watching the frost rise on the windows as your babies freeze in the backseat and we're all going to die in the rainforest has left me feeling rather traumatized and hungover.

Oh. My. Goodness.

After about six hours, we were rescued by a very nice German who drives like a maniac. And Dad's buying a new car today. But it's times like this that I wonder if it's a blessing or a real shame that I don't drink.