Well, we made it but we’re not out of the woods yet. More than half of our area neighbors in Westchester County N.Y. remain without power. WIFI is spotty, traffic lights are more off than on, making driving a wild west affair. Uprooted trees drag lives wires and yet I feel blessed beyond measure to be sitting in my favorite library tapping on a laptop finally connecting with email and you dear readers. Thank-you for your many emails of concern and good wishes. The library closes soon and must hurry.
I’m not used to being restricted with WIFi but the past few days have taught me not to take anything for granted. Being a hardy Canadian, I’m used to harsh weather but nothing could have prepared me for Sandy. We’ve weathered Nor’easters, power outtages, flooding, major trees uprooted but I’ve never wrestled one on one with a force like Sandy. While lollygagging getting blog posts edited for the week, the cats knew and hid under the bed and in the closet. Even dare devil Odin lost his taste for adventure. I should have known better but assumed we were better prepared than most with a generator, chainsaw and half the contents of a hardware store. I didn’t flinch when the Internet died but something inside me wilted when my beloved grandmother pine tree with a girth too wide to place my arms around, snapped like a toothpick. In a lull of wind gusts, I ran outside to place my hands on her moist innards and cried. The length of her stretched and blocked our neighbors driveway but there was no time to mourn when Sandy swirled for round two.
A person’s home is refuge, a safe place to weather the elements and our house has stood since 1860. I’ve always felt it to be a fortress until I heard a loud pop on the third floor. There are four original quarter round windows and one invited Sandy inside with full force. Ripped off its hinges, glass scattered, I pushed with all my might to block the dark hole with a large canvas painting wedged between the radiator and the wall. The wind engulfed me and we were definately not in Kansas anymore. I didn’t notice the blood on my hands or anything other than the will of survival and power of nature. Adrenaline pumped out orders to hubby. Get a tarp ,scissors, staple gun, drill. NOW! I found an extra screen. Cut plastic tarp to fit, stapled gunned it the screen in my Martha Stewart moment and popped the sucker into place. Sandy pushed back and we were no match for her until screws drilled into the window frame worked. We celebrated with a hot bath and a cool movie. Odin was the only one who cared to watch A Cat in Paris with us.
To be continued…