You can be a child of God, or a child of rage, but this child of mine is apparently a child of snow.
I've mentioned before the snowstorm the night he was born -- and the worse snowstorm the day he was going to be inducted if he didn't make deadline.
There was snow for his first birthday, but not a big deal.
There was no snow for his second birthday, but there was also no plumbing. And we had 20 people at our house.
There was heavy snow when he was 3, and we watched as the entire town descended on Chuck E Cheese when we did.
There was some snow and bowling when he was 4, a little snow and a party when he was 5, and no snow, but lots of ice at a hockey game when he was 6.
And then there was 7. Great goshamighty.
All week the forecasters were sounding klaxons and flashing red lights. Lock down! Get food! DO NOT LEAVE YOUR HOMES AFTER FRIDAY MORNING!
Friday morning, I went to work. It started snowing juuust as I got on the interstate. I kept an eye out the window all day.
Eventually I had to go out. The Young Prince had requested "White frosting! From a can! Not that stuff you make, the whippy kind!" and I had neglected to get any. There was also a mixup with some birthday gifts, so I had to do some last-minute shopping on that front too.
It was still really warm -- I left my jacket undone. Snow wasn't sticking yet, and it was early afternoon. I found the gifts, bought some lunch and headed back to the office.
Without the frosting, of course.
So I went back out at 3, and although the ground was still clear, it was getting colder. Plus, the wind was pretty crazy. You could turn any direction and it was still blowing snow smack into your face. I was unhappy to find that the first drug store only had chocolate frosting. I went to the one across a diagonal block, and bought the Last. Can. -- blinded the whole way by big fat flakes bashing me in the eyeballs.
I left work at 4:30 or so. I got home with McDonald's for the family around 5:40. This is because the interstate was deserted and the road was quite clear -- but once I got off the interstate the roads were terrible and visibility was quickly decreasing.
Error Number One: I call home and tell Not Your Average Blogger that I'm going to park at the top of the driveway. "Oh, don't do that. The plows will just come by and bury you." So I park at the bottom, in the usual spot.
Error Number Two: Power outages were predicted. In a display of hubris, I was sure if I baked the cake Friday night for Sunday consumption, we'd have power galore.
Still Friday night was nice. We watched a movie, I frosted the cake, we all went to bed.
8:30 next morning, we heard "Hum, click-click-click" as our cable and Sleep-Number bed informed us the power had gone out. This was quickly followed up by the YP barging into our room and announcing the lights were out. Error Two deployed.
The power magically returned at 11:30. We scrambled to wash dishes, crank up the heat to 75 so the house will be warmer when the power goes out again, and throw some snow-soggy clothes in the dryer.
Error Number Three: NYAB decides to put pork chops in the crockpot instead of flash-frying them.
Annnd, the power goes out again at 1:30.
For whatever reason, NYAB decided to pass the time by reading aloud from the book he's currently working on. About the Donner party. This was not helpful. All that cold imagery and descriptions of 30-foot snowdrifts did nothing to warm my soul.
We moved up the kid's birthday celebration to alleviate powerless boredom. Fortunately, none of his gifts required electricity.
After another couple hours, we concluded that huge amounts of food would be ruined if we didn't do something, so we dumped the contents of our fridge on the deck and the contents of the crockpot into a cast-iron pot and threw that in the fireplace.
Dinner was fantastic, though we took no photos. Error Three corrected.
The cake was a success.
Once it started to get dark, we dragged all our bedding down in front of the fire, lit some candles, told stories, and entertaine ourselves til it was the kid's bedtime.
We brought in buckets of snow to melt for non-drinking water use, watched as the first snowplow of the night took a first pass at our street, and went to bed.
Next morning we woke up early and started digging our way out. We only have one snow shovel, so we took turns -- not a huge rush, just to get started on the job. I went to see if the neighbors had a spare, and was told it might be Tuesday before we had power.
Well. I had to be online for work at 4:30 Monday morning. That wasn't going to do.
So after that, we shoveled a bit faster.
At about 1 p.m., we were halfway up our driveway. The kid came out and rolled some snowballs, but he wasn't a lot of help and we sent him back inside to watch the fire and make sure the house didn't burn down.
At 1:30, some guy with a snowblower showed up and did our neighbor's driveway. As he was trundling it back down our street, I stopped him.
"How much??"
"To go all the way down?!?"
"Nah, just to where the car is. Halfway down."
"Oh. Twenty bucks?"
"SOLD!"
I gave the guy $30. And he did in 15 minutes what would have taken us another 3 hours. Talk about having the right tool for the job -- and he cut a path to our mailbox. Best $30 I ever spent.
After that, we packed up, buried the food in a bit more snow, inhale a bit more smoke from the fireplace -- the whole house reeks -- and decamped for a hotel. With power. And wifi. And a pool.
And a jacuzzi. My shoulders were shot last night but they feel muuuuch better today.
The YP has dubbed this, "the birthday of Lights Out." I call it, "the Donner Birthday Party."
Of course, upon arriving here, I heard from a neighbor that our power had come back on a couple hours after we left. We'll go back today to see if we have cable/internet/etc., or if I will be putting in another early morning shift at the hotel.
Regardless, nobody will be picking up our trash for a while.
