Also known as the day where Holly's optimism about being prepared is shattered like a cheap china mug on a tile floor. Upon waking from what I can only describe as terror sleep we staggard outside when we heard the generator die out to discover two things.
1. We had almost two feet of heavy ass snow that was as wet as the goddamn ocean.
2. Every branch ever had fallen down. There were two large branches on top of one of our sheds, a branch on the deck, and our yard looked like what I would picture happening if the trees had a world war against each other and forgot to tell us it was happening.
However the real fun began when we hiked to the end of the driveway and saw this.
|Pictured: The end of our driveway and the death of optimism about life.|
Also we discovered that the road, you know, the road that we live on that takes us to work and town and stuff was completely blocked by trees. Here is what it is supposed to look like:
And here is the horrible aftermath.
It was about then that we discovered that the road was sort of a moot point anyway because the cell tower was down and no one was coming to help in an emergency anyway. At this point we may have become a little concerned. Just a smidgen. A tad.
Well the first point of business was to start clearing the road. Except that we needed to save every last bit of gas for the generator, so that meant using hand tools. Specifically, an ax, clippers and the two man saw. I would like to sum up that experience with the following picture.
|Yeah. Never again.|
But we goddamned did it. We hacked and cut and drug the branches to the side of the road and cursed and struggled to pull them out of the deep heavy snow while the snow soaked into our clothes and made us wet and cold and raw until at last the road before our own place was clear and we could at least have gotten the truck out of the damn driveway. Flushed with victory we returned home only to discover that the blowers on the wood stove had stopped working.
Which meant we had to shut down the wood stove RIGHT NOW or it would overheat and possibly set fire to all of our shit. Our only other option other then freezing to death was to turn on backup propane heater in the living room. You know, the heater that we may not have had enough propane for that we had never quite figured out how to work. Yeah. That heater. Let's just say that we figured it out right quick. With the propane heater going and the trailer at a balmy 55 degrees it was time to make some food, drink Holly's traditional winter drink (vodka coco) and sleep the sleep of the bitter and tired.
Did I say sleep?
Ha ha. What I really meant was to lie awake on the floor in front of the propane heater in our sleeping bags and pray we had enough propane to last the night. The fun. It just never stops.
At this junction I have to point out that I thoroughly believe that mankind was never meant to sleep on the floor because oh my god sweet Jesus. It felt like someone was trying to disassemble my body with gravity.
It was terrible is what I am trying to say.
On the plus side, we didn't die, so there's that.
There is at least that.