Hats Off to The Amish

Well.  So much for the end of summer being relaxing.  Thanks, Irene.

First, let me say I’m so grateful we sustained no damage to our house and that everyone was safe around here.  I know how devastating this storm was for many.

Second, let me say that, on the Natural Disaster Panic Spectrum, it appears that I fall in the red zone.  Whereas my husband was more of a “let’s not make ourselves crazy” type.  Somewhere in the middle is the Promised Land.

But it’s hard not to worry when you see this.

And this.  {Who knew that they really used this system for something other than ill-timed tests during my favorite shows?}

And, uh, this.  Filled with debris.  Next to our windows.  Auntie Em, Uncle Henry, we’ve got to secure this mother.

Turns out that Project Pimp My Basement was well-timed.  We had emptied the contents of the basement to start the project, so our stuff was safely removed.  And we hadn’t gotten far enough to have any of the new basement ruined.  It was basically a construction mudslide under the house.  Not bad, all things considered.

But let me tell you, we’ll be putting in additional drainage plans after all this.  Because we didn’t really sign up to have Lake Fordeville in the back yard.

The only thing we really suffered was inconvenience because the power went out.  On day one, it was fine.  The kids re-embraced coloring.

And I was even invited to an awesome dinosaur cake and tea party.

But, alas, after a day, I remembered why I never liked camping.  I was also tired of repeating to my kids that Nick Jr is not an option. Then, after hearing from our power company that it may take a week to restore it, I had a decision to make.

Option A:  Stay at home and live like an Amish woman.  Consider churning butter and quilting by candlelight.

Option B: Go stay with my in-laws, who had full electricity.

It was like Sophie’s Choice.  After careful consideration, I went with B.  The butter churning wasn’t going so well.

I’m kidding.  It was an easy choice.  My in-laws were very hospitable and it was a nice escape from The Land With No Power.  Plus, I had an endless supply of chilled white wine.  You can’t get that, for various reasons, in Amish Country.

We stayed for two nights, wondering what to do about my dad‘s upcoming annual visit, amidst further reports that power would stay out for a while.  I had a chat with him the day before his arrival about the situation at hand.  I thought he should consider rescheduling, as much as I hated to move his visit, since we only see him once a year.  But really, without power, were we expected to sit around and just talk to each other for eight days?  Let’s not be crazy.

Then this came from my neighbor.  Like a gift from the heavens at Hour 50.

And we headed back home, just in time to throw out  hundreds of dollars worth of food in the fridge/freezer, restock, regroup and pick up my father from the airport.

With the power back, the Father-Daughter-Talkathon Crisis was averted.

Although, sometimes, you need to be careful what you wish for.  Because my father and I are on diametrically opposite ends of the political spectrum.  And at least if there was no power, I would not have to listen to a certain conservative news organization on my TV all day.  With unnamed people who may or may not rhyme with Shmill O’Shmeilly.  My ears.  My head.

But it’s better than churning butter.  I think.  We still have five days to go.