Did you ever have one of those days where just about everything pisses you off?  I’ve been having a lot of them  lately.  The doctor has changed my meds in hopes of improving my mood.  I’m still waiting.  So far my anger is in check.  Although the other day when a lady stole my parking space, I did say some pretty choice things in front of my mother.  Luckily she has reached an age where she thinks those things are funny.  Good thing too, because I really hated the taste of soap and I think I can take her now.

There really is no reason for my enhanced bitchiness.  It just is what it is.  My family physician calls it seasonal affective disorder.  I call it “can somebody do something about all these stupid people disorder.”  Well there are four seasons and I seem to have a disorder for all four of them.  So i guess it more like yearly affective disorder.  Instead of SAD I have YAD.  Call it whatever you want, I got my cranky pants on and they are attached firmly.  The storm of the century did nothing to lighten my mood.  I have been trying, ever since we moved in here, to grow a lilac bush.  The first one was a cutting from a lilac bush that had been my grandmother’s.  It died immediately.  The second one was one my sister gave me.  It lasted a little over a year.  Finally,  I bought one from a nursery.  It had lasted about five years.  Each year it grew a little taller, and each spring I checked for blooms.  Each year I found no blooms and no hope of blooms.  I finally asked my local grower what I had done wrong and he said that it takes three to five years to see growth on a new lilac bush.  This would be my year.  Then the ice storm came and now my lilac bush is gone.  There is just naked mulch where it used to be.

This is what I’m talking about, dear ones, this is the state of my nation.  For every five years of growth, I get a freaking ice storm of death.  For every five steps forward there is an avalanche of disaster that pummels me backwards.  Lately the only person to really put a smile on my face is my grandson.  Today when his mother told him it was time to go home he headed towards the car.  I asked for my bye kiss, and he shook his little head no.  Well, this is a game we sometimes play.  He says no, and I retaliate by kissing him all over his face.  So I got in the car to kiss his whole face, and he looked at me with total sincerity and said “Get out!”  There are days when you can’t win at all.

Settle in my dear ones.  I have promised to tell you this wicked, wicked story, and I shall.  Put on your jammies and grab your woobies it is time to hear of the ICE STORM OF 2009 (play scary music now). 

 The sky was gray and unfriendly that morning as a gentle cold rain began to fall over Boringville, Arkansas.  Children went to school as usual and Adults went to work as usual but usual wouldn’t last long (cue scary music again).  I was making lunch in the kitchen  when I heard a noise that sounded just like a gunshot.  It was a real cracking sound and then a pop.  I didn’t think much about it.  I figured the old man next door had finally had enough of the old biddy he’s married to and done her in.  I mean the neighbors across the street had reported a gun missing about a month ago, it seemed like it was all falling into place.  Then I looked up and saw our pear tree fall across our back yard.  That was different.  I would’ve loved to have told someone “hey, did you just notice that our pear tree fell in the backyard?” but there was no one to tell.  My daughter was still asleep, and my hubby was in the shower.  When he came downstairs, I asked him the  tree question and he said that he had indeed seen the tree falling right after he heard the gunshot, so being intelligent people we then begin to believe that the gunshot was actually the tree cracking prior to falling.

All through the day you could hear the sounds of the trees cracking and popping and the loud crash as they fell.  At one point we were sitting at the kitchen table and just watching the trees fall.  It was that bad.  Then reports of power outages started.  My son called first and said they had no power.  I told them to come over.  We still had power.  They thought that would have been a great idea, had there not been two inches of ice on the road.  I called my mother.  She was also without power and so was my sister.  No one was risking life and limb to get out on the road and that included us.  I love my family, and had it just been snow and not ice, I might have tried it.  However; it was ice and it was thick thank you very much…but if I had managed to have driven up in front of my mother’s apartment in my car on ice two inches thick I would have received a tongue lashing that you would not have believed.  And, it would have lasted all the way back across the ice to get to my house and for two days after at least.  NO Thanks!!  I stayed home.  We had electricity, we had satellite, and we were good to go.

The next day road crews were working, (they had been working through the night) and the main and major roads were passable by noon.  They weren’t great, but if you were very careful, they were passable.  Using a great deal of caution we inched to my mother’s house and insisted that she come home with us.  She swore she was fine.  It was 57 degrees in her apartment and she could withstand that.  We bullied her into coming anyway, and we tried to bully  my sister into coming as well, but she held out for another two days.  Yes, you heard right.  Two days later she was still in the dark and without heat.  She gave in on Friday.   Then she and mother begin to try to see who would be the first to get to leave.  It was beginning to become a kind of demented little contest.  Let’s Play -  Who will get their heat back first.  (cue game show music)  “That’s right Johnny tell our two contestants what they could win” …cue gameshow announcer…”Well Chuck, our lucky winner will get hot and cold running water, and light to see how to shower.  But wait,  they will also have heat!!  Think that’s it?  Not yet,  We’re throwing in cable reception too!”  Every morning they would call their apartment manager’s and ask if they had power.  Every morning the answer was no.  Every evening they would drive by to check and see if the lights were on in their apartment  complex.  Every night they would come home to me, depressed.  It was the saddest thing ever.  I couldn’t wait for them to go home.  On Saturday, my sister got the call.  She danced all around the house (not pretty) and got up in mother’s face “I’ve got electricity” like a six year old who grabbed the last sucker.  Mom looked like she wanted to punch her.  I was willing to hold her down.  When mom left the room, my sister looked at me and said, “I think mother is jealous that I have electricity.”  I puked a little in my mouth. 

My sister went home, and my poor, elderly, homeless mother ambled up the stairs to take a nap (insert heavy sighing and much drama).  Now throughout all of this, several cell phone calls were made to report the destruction to relatives far and wide.  Cell towers were afflicted too of course, so about a zillion times I would hear, “hello, hello,…hmmm, something must have happened.”  This was followed by immediate redials.  I am not kidding here dear ones.  My mother and my oldest sister are the same person.  I don’t know how this is possible, I’m not going to make myself crazy figuring it out…it just is…’nough said.  In addition, if I explained once, I explained a million times why cell phones might not work when the weather is as nasty as it was that particular week.  “Hello, Hello…hmmm, I guess they hung up.”  Sometimes I wanted to cry.   On Monday, my mother got electricity.  She was so excited.  There was so much to do.  She had to clean out the refrigerator and the freezer.  She would have to go to the grocery store and restock.  OMG!!!  She was just beside herself with joy.  So many projects.  She was done by noon.  She wasn’t aware the power had been restored until ten. 

The ice storm will not be forgotten.  I promise you that.  The wreckage is visible everywhere in our town.  We once had beautiful trees as far as you could see.  Now, the ripped limbs, and torn branches are a reminders of what nature can do.  My backyard is as naked as naked gets.  All three of our pear trees are gone.  We have nothing.  Of course, we will replant but the real tragedy here is what happens when three old women are forced to live together for any time period at all.  It just shouldn’t happen.  I love the both of them and if they ever need to stay here again of course they will be welcome.  I am not unlike a meteorologist.  If I see that this might happen I will be forwarned and armed for the battle.  For I have been to my doctor, and he has seen to it that if nature must take its course I will be medicated.