Thursday, November 18, 2004


Well our much anticipated wind took a northerly turn and the Low hit the coast above the Northern tip of Vancouver Island, which then went inland into British Columbia, Canada. Kinda like waiting for a Hurricane to hit Miami and it turned and went into VIrginia instead. Darn!!!

I Love Storms. I love to lay in my nice snug bed and listen to the wind whip the alders out back. The SNAP!!! of branches in the woods, the roar of the wind coming up the hill and smaking into the front of the house. The rattle of the garage door, as the aforementioned wind knocks loudly to get in.

I love the excitement of watching the storm coverage on the television, in between power outages or flickers. I love getting all the emergency lanterns out and ready, making sure that the mantles on the coleman lanterns are still intact after the summer in the closet.

I love listening to the emergency responders on the scanner, rushing to the downed trees and blocked roads, and wires down. I am one of the lucky ones though. I have a nice snug house, and I grew up with a Father that believed in being prepared for anything. Mom Hated the wind and the thunder. She grew up in Oklahoma and Texas where emergency meant head for the storm cellar, tornado coming.

One of my early memories was of my Mom hiding from a storm. We were living in San DIego, I was 6 and Phyllis was 3. Dad was off in the Korean War, and there was a thunder storm. We had gone to bed, and Mom was up, when the lights went off. I remember waking up in time to see the lit tip of my Mothers' cigarette coming into the bedroom and disappearing under phyllis' bed. I thought it was extremely funny. Mother did not, she was crying in fear. She got better about living through storms, but not as good as we did. We would make a game out of it.

Dad taught us to have fun with the storms, not in a "lets have fun" way but in the teasing way he would make fun of Moms' fear, and the way he would talk to us about the track the storm was taking. It was a learning experience, but it also was FUN! We cooked hotdogs for thanksgiving, because the power was out in 1955. We toasted the marshmallows that Mom had planned to put on the Sweet Potatoes. The fire place got a work out that night. We had just learned how to make s.mores in Brownie Day Camp, so they came into play in the emergency supplies. (ask Phyllis, she still has hersey bars and marshmallows in her camping supplies)

When the lights go out now, they are not off for days at a time like they were then, but we still have fun with them. I think it is the excitement of those days a half century ago, that still remind us that Mother Nature is still in charge, and our puny little lives and lights are nothing in the grand scheme of things. We didn't care, it was part of living on the last frontier!!

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