I think Massachusetts hates me. Last winter, while I was watching from my home computer in California, the Massachusans enjoyed the worst snow ever. This summer, the worst rain. Now there's an ice storm that's cut electricity, phones, water, and heat for most of the state for an indefinite amount of time, and no one can remember ever seeing its equal. What do these things have in common? ME.
You know in the horror movie when the happy little family moves into the big, scary house, and the house tries to warn the family that it's not welcome with the evil "Get Out" whisper? I think this weather is the state's equivalent of that whisper.
Monkey Girl and her mama arrived from California on Wednesday and, despite the icy frost, we had excellent book browsing and soup in Peterborough on Thursday. That night everything sparkled in a layer of ice. Ice encased the branches and fences and made a slick sheet over the stones. In fact, Monkey Mama and I both fell on our tushies. Still, it was shockingly beautiful. The next morning the sky was a spectacular, sun-shiney blue.
Then the lights, phone, and water went out, and Monkey Girl got the stomach flu. Luckily we didn't lose heat like so many other families. We all huddled in lightest room (even in the most glorious sunshine our house is a cave) next to the gas stove, reading and knitting, and entertaining the toddlers.
Next Monkey Daddy showed up, and soon it became clear that he also had the stomach bug. Then we all had some form of the malady (except Monkey Mama and Buckaroo who miraculously escaped unscathed), and we had to flush the toilet with lake water because there was no other water to be had. It really did feel like Little House in the Big Woods.
Meanwhile, outside, the tree branches crashed into cars and houses and wiped out power lines.
Sunday rolled around-- after a long Saturday night of projectile vomiting in the dark-- and the monkey family had to go home. We do hope they'll return some day in happier weather and health.
The rest of us hightailed it out of dodge. We drove the hour-ish to R's parents' house and were amazed at how much the roads around our town looked like a war zone, while 20 minutes down the road life seemed to be going on as usual.
Now R is back at work while the kids and I hang out with his parents. Sweet Potato is happy school is canceled for the whole week but dreading the make-up week in summer.