So I had pretty much just returned home from spending the entire month of October traveling for work. I had just gotten home Sunday morning at 9am after working all damn night. I had just done all the laundry ever, and spent most of my time prepping for the monster storm that was headed our way. Finally I got to end of the day. The rain had turned to snow and we had built a fire in the wood stove and were settling in for the night. Foolishly I had decided to listen to my favorite music and screw around on the Internet. Waves of contentment must have been seeping out from my office, because after almost on hour of enjoyment time the power went out.
Of course it was after dark. Immediately I went ahead and called the power company because somehow I have faith in that system. Outside heavy, heavy ass wet snow was coming down like gangbusters. This was not good. Fortunately I did not have long to dwell on this because I had to help Scott get the generator.
Stepping outside was like entering another world. What the happy sounds of appliances and the radio had masked was the creepy sound of the wind and the stomach dropping sound of branches being ripped off trees and flung into the dark.
Let me tell you something right now.
There is nothing quite like walking through a bad snow storm in the complete darkness with only the beam of a cheap Wal mart headlamp cutting a path through the snow, while tree branches are breaking around you like splintery gunshots that you can't see because the mesmerizing flakes of snow are coming down too damn hard.
It was at that point that I realized that we were fucked. And not just regular fucked.
After fighting with the generator we retreated back inside where I came to conclusion that we weren't any safer really. You know, since mobile homes are so good at stopping trees from crushing the people inside of them. I had though naively that getting back inside would be better, but that's only because I am a moron. Since the power was out and mobile home walls are as think as cardboard I could still hear the branches falling. Except now every once in while one would hit the trailer and scrap down the side like the hand of death himself. For variety a branch would hit the propane tanks with a musical ping that would have been quite cherry if it wasn't so damn terrifying.
It was at this point the thunder and lighting started.
Of course the dog had to freak out at this point so to comfort him I took him off to bed with me and put him under the covers. This would have been a great plan except all we did was end of freaking each other out and ended up clutching each other for dear life. I am fairly sure we both thought it was the end of the world, just for different reasons.
It was one of those nights where you greet the morning with grim puffy eyes because you haven't slept a wink and both you and the dog kept shaking each other awake during the worst of the storm convinced you were both about to die.
So it was a fun night.
So. Much. Fucking. Fun.
Storm Tales? Here's Day 2.