A summer storm threatens as I pick up my Grandtoys (aka grandchildren, if you are a new reader) from horse riding camp.

As we pull onto the road I remember that my windshield wipers mysteriously stopped working the day before. With no rain in the forecast I was unconcerned.

But summer is full of surprises.

Now I feel the urgent need to race the storm to my end of the city where clear skies  seem to prevail.

All is well at first. Only sprinkles. Then I hit a red light and the sprinkles intensify.

The 80 km speed limit allows me to outrun the storm until another red light snags me. Before I’m half way home the deluge of rain makes moving impossible. I pull over. I wait.

The rain seems to fade. I embark on my adventure again, whispering prayers and being extra vigilant about activities I spot in my peripheral vision. It’s stressful.

At the next red light this occurs to me: where are those squeegee guys when you need them? They’ve annoyed me more than once as I sat waiting for the green light.

I would gladly pay one right now to ride with me and jump out every few minutes to clean the window. Or he could have a very long handled squeegee, sit in the passenger seat and power my new “wiper blade” continuously while I drive.

Isn’t it funny how your perspective can change so easily?