At the Palace
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
A blanket of ice
Just got out from under a blanket of ice... boy, was that cold!
Newton and the surrounding areas were covered in a nice, thick layer of ice last week. I had just messed up my leg on Sunday, given three days of bedrest from my healthcare giver... Tuesday, things started getting messy.
Throughout the neighborhood, trees snapped like twigs under the weight of the ice, sounding like gunfire or thunder. I stood out on the front porch and watched one-third of our tall tall cedar snap like a matchstick and fall to the ground.
By 1 pm the boys were home from school, thanks to my friend Marilyn picking them up. By 3 or so, we were without power... and getting chilled. There is little insulation in a 100-year-old farmhouse, and only one storm window upstairs makes things even worse...
We loaded up blankets and clothes and flashlights and toys and headed over to Marilyn and Eric's house, which was toasty from a gas fireplace. They also have a gas stove. Marilyn cooked scrambled eggs and breakfast by flashlight... it got even colder. The best bed in the house (my opinion) was a sleeping bag by the fire. Stifflers braved it out in bedrooms across the house.
We woke up two mornings to the same view out the living room window... ice, a couple of Cox Communications trucks, some city/park trucks, NO Westar electric vehicles of any kind... it was rather disheartening.
My mother decided to tough it out in her home with a fuel stove, shutting it off overnight. On the coldest night, I lay at Stiffler's house, worried beyond comprehension. The next morning I called her, trying to think of someone she could stay with. The night before had shaken her so, that she called my sis and headed to Wichita for the night. Her power came on the following day.
We loaded up the car and headed to another friend's house... this outage was stubborn, and the power wasn't coming on anytime soon. Grateful for a hot shower and a heated recliner, I finally got my leg up again and relaxed.
Then I got attacked by a big, white bird. Kathi inherited Luna from someone who inherited it from our mutual friend, Madeline... for some reason, Luna decided to lunge at me in the kitchen, and wrapped her claws in my hair. I came undone. Kathi said she'd never seen Luna WANT to GO to someone... (read: attack!).
Three nights at Kathi's house, and Sunday evening, our power finally came back on. What a relief. We'd all had enough of each other. A few hours before, Stiffler's power resurfaced. I can't tell you what a mess it all is... tree limbs everywhere. I know Newton will return to its Tree City, USA glory one day, but it will take years, I'm sure.
My knee is almost healed. What an ordeal. The boys have been especially helpful. I owe so many people a debt of gratitude.
Newton and the surrounding areas were covered in a nice, thick layer of ice last week. I had just messed up my leg on Sunday, given three days of bedrest from my healthcare giver... Tuesday, things started getting messy.
Throughout the neighborhood, trees snapped like twigs under the weight of the ice, sounding like gunfire or thunder. I stood out on the front porch and watched one-third of our tall tall cedar snap like a matchstick and fall to the ground.
By 1 pm the boys were home from school, thanks to my friend Marilyn picking them up. By 3 or so, we were without power... and getting chilled. There is little insulation in a 100-year-old farmhouse, and only one storm window upstairs makes things even worse...
We loaded up blankets and clothes and flashlights and toys and headed over to Marilyn and Eric's house, which was toasty from a gas fireplace. They also have a gas stove. Marilyn cooked scrambled eggs and breakfast by flashlight... it got even colder. The best bed in the house (my opinion) was a sleeping bag by the fire. Stifflers braved it out in bedrooms across the house.
We woke up two mornings to the same view out the living room window... ice, a couple of Cox Communications trucks, some city/park trucks, NO Westar electric vehicles of any kind... it was rather disheartening.
My mother decided to tough it out in her home with a fuel stove, shutting it off overnight. On the coldest night, I lay at Stiffler's house, worried beyond comprehension. The next morning I called her, trying to think of someone she could stay with. The night before had shaken her so, that she called my sis and headed to Wichita for the night. Her power came on the following day.
We loaded up the car and headed to another friend's house... this outage was stubborn, and the power wasn't coming on anytime soon. Grateful for a hot shower and a heated recliner, I finally got my leg up again and relaxed.
Then I got attacked by a big, white bird. Kathi inherited Luna from someone who inherited it from our mutual friend, Madeline... for some reason, Luna decided to lunge at me in the kitchen, and wrapped her claws in my hair. I came undone. Kathi said she'd never seen Luna WANT to GO to someone... (read: attack!).
Three nights at Kathi's house, and Sunday evening, our power finally came back on. What a relief. We'd all had enough of each other. A few hours before, Stiffler's power resurfaced. I can't tell you what a mess it all is... tree limbs everywhere. I know Newton will return to its Tree City, USA glory one day, but it will take years, I'm sure.
My knee is almost healed. What an ordeal. The boys have been especially helpful. I owe so many people a debt of gratitude.
Last night I dreamed of my father
Last night I dreamed of my father
He was as elusive in the night as he ever was
And has been in my night thoughts since he was gone
Last night I dreamed of my father
But he did not speak
Did not speak to me
As once my grandfather did
I heard Poppie’s voice ring out
And spoke to him in my half-waking reality
A dream within a dream until awakened
Connected to heaven for one soothing moment
My father was nowhere to be found
Tho’ everywhere I looked for him
Just one step ahead out of sight was he
And never did I catch up
And yet he was my ride home
Perhaps he is waiting
Just out of sight
Over the hill
Beyond the horizon
Waiting for me
Telling me he is there
He signals to me even in daylight
Sends me messages to let me know
That though his body is cold in the ground
His soul lingers still
Calling to me
A photograph of him sent in the mail
His death certificate fallen to the garage floor
The first was a crystal spinning light against my wall
A prism of hope
A promise not to be left behind
I do not talk to him as others do
I grow used to the lonely train whistle
And it does not shake me as it once did
But the bagpipes, oh the pipes
Never will they lose their thrill.
Days and months and years pass
My father is with me still.
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