Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
*THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A WINTER STORM WARNING FOR HEAVY SNOW... WHICH IS IN EFFECT FROM MIDNIGHT TONIGHT TO MIDNIGHT CST FRIDAY NIGHT.
* TRAVEL CONDITIONS MAY DETERIORATE RAPIDLY TONIGHT AND COULD REMAIN EXTREMELY HAZARDOUS INTO THE DAY FRIDAY. VISIBILITY MAY BE POOR WITH GUSTY NORTH WINDS. TEMPERATURES WILL BE IN THE 20S.
A WINTER STORM WARNING FOR HEAVY SNOW MEANS SEVERE WINTER WEATHER CONDITIONS ARE EXPECTED OR OCCURRING. SIGNIFICANT AMOUNTS OF SNOW ARE FORECAST THAT WILL MAKE TRAVEL DANGEROUS. ONLY TRAVEL IN AN EMERGENCY. IF YOU MUST TRAVEL... KEEP AN EXTRA FLASHLIGHT... FOOD... AND WATER IN YOUR VEHICLE IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY.
Seriously??? All I can say is come on Spring!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Since I work for an electric company, my life was turned upside down in many ways. I worked around the clock for the first couple of days and then settled into eighteen and twenty hour shifts, doing everything from relaying information to the media and coordinating our response with local government to answering phone calls from desperate customers. I rarely saw my family. It was nearly a week before I saw my house in the daylight. It was the most intense work experience of my life, and that’s saying a lot since I used to work in television news, and my time in that career included covering a school shooting that killed three students.
We were without electricity at my house for eighteen days, and by that last day, we were getting pretty worn down from the experience. Hubby and Teen Angel were tired of the daily grind of doing without a lot of creature comforts, and I was just physically and mentally exhausted from work. It was a time that we will never forget and hope not to experience again.
In the past few weeks, people started mentioning the anniversary of the storm to me and joked a lot about it. I politely smiled and laughed, but frankly, I didn’t find it very funny. The comments about the anniversary picked up the closer it got to today, and the local news outlets were all over it yesterday and today. God love ‘em, they can’t help themselves, but I just don’t want to relive it. It has literally taken a year for me to catch up on everything that got out of whack or off schedule because of the ice storm.
I took about 400 photos during the crisis and the recovery stage, mostly of our folks at work. Some of them will appear soon in a local book that’s being published about the storm. During the storm, I longed to spend days stomping around, taking pictures of the ice, but I only had time to grab quick shots of the things that happened around me while I was working. I managed a few beauty shots, though. I share those today, as a way of giving you a glimpse of what things were like around here during that time, but mostly it’s my way of putting that storm to bed. I’m done with the storm. Finished, kaput, over it. I will share stories about it with friends and family in the coming years, but for now, she’s a dead issue for me. Take a last look, ‘cause these photos are going into an album for the grandkids.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
In college, I spent a fair amount of time in the ceramics building, throwing pots on a wheel. There’s something you didn’t know about me, hmm? I loved the feel of the clay between my fingers, and while I tried my hands at large items, usually I reverted to small, delicate items, such as finger bowls made from slick porcelain that slipped between my fingers and required a light controlled touch to keep them from collapsing or spinning out of shape. At the time I thought it was comfortable to me because my hands were small, but now, I think it had little to with my hands. I think it was just more esthetically pleasing to me. I believe this because I’m still traveling down that path.
I have no trouble embracing that because even though I’m using a different medium now, focusing on the tiniest of things forces me to stop and appreciate things I would never have noticed if I hadn’t looked at them through the lens of a camera. For instance, have you ever truly noticed the fascinating textures and shapes in nature? In those woods behind my house, lies the rough:
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
We purposefully chose furniture that would maximize the seating capacity, like this table with pullout benches. How cool is that?
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Yesterday, I put off a task that required multiple stops around the county because I didn’t want to get wet. Big mistake. I had to get it done today, so there I was, dashing in between downpours, all day long. In and out of the car, stepping into Lake Erie every time I got out. It was the kind of day that reminds me of why I hate winter in western Kentucky. And it’s not over yet. I am headed out the door in a few minutes in heels, hose and a formal dress for a black tie event. I’m sure to step in a few puddles and spend the evening hoping no one can smell the Frito like aroma of wet hose wrapped around feet.
January, February and March are long months for me because of the weather. As mama says, I gripe, piss and moan about the weather from January 1st to March 30th. The gloominess just brings me down. Not in a “can’t get out of bed need some Cymbalta” kind of way, but more of a “somebody kick me for not taking a job in Miami” way. I love the sun. I need some sun. Every day. I guess I could get one of those little lights they prescribe for seasonal disorder, but I don’t think sitting under one of those every day would be enough. I want the whole enchilada; sun, heat and sweat. There will be none of that in the next ten weeks. Just more of the same wet gloominess. (And right here is where people in Haiti are goin’ shut the heck up Hula, and the people in REALLY cold states are rolling their eyes.) I will endure, but if anyone out there in a sunny, warm place wants to ship me a bottle of sunshine, go right ahead. And if that fat little groundhog sees his shadow in a couple of weeks, I’m gonna kick him so hard he’ll be wearin’ his butt for a hat all year long.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Daily, I read about the destruction and the rescue efforts; the joy of a man who found his wife alive in the rubble six days after the quake and the heartbreak of others who have neither the chance to mourn nor bury their dead. But it’s the images I’m most drawn to. The pictures of people whose lives are in chaos right now. Newspapers around the world are carrying some incredible images. There are shocking pictures of bodies stacked in the streets and burning in crowds, but the pictures that speak to me most are those of the faces of the people who are in the fight of their lives.
The tired. Photo by: Jorge Cruz
Photo By: Lisandro Suero/ AFP/Getty Images
Photo by: Eduardo Munoz/Reuters
Photo from: EPA/media.ft.com
And the scared.
Photo by: Francois Mori/AP
Photo by: Ivanoh Demers/AP
I am sad for the people of Haiti, but I am hopeful for them, hopeful that eventually life will become somewhat normal again. Why? Because for centuries the people of this world have endured wars, famines and disasters by reaching out to each other and giving each other the resources and strength to move forward and rebuild. It will take a long time for Haiti to get back on its feet, but there are already small signs that, in the smallest of ways, that unity has begun to take root.
Photo from: Despardes.com
And that makes me smile.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
And it proved several things, mostly that I can only dream of being a rock star.
A. Despite my lifelong desire to sing like Aretha Franklin and the numerous hours I spend practicing in the car, I cannot carry a tune, even if it’s in a five gallon bucket with a handle that is duct taped to my fingers.
B. I do NOT know the words to Roxanne.
C. The room isn’t big enough for me to get enough distance between me and the TV in order to read those fuzzy Roxanne lyrics rolling across the screen.
D. I should not be allowed to sing Roxanne ever again, unless it’s in the confines of the shower or my vehicle. Even then, it’s iffy. I hurt my own ears.
E. Alex Van Halen need not worry about me taking over his drumming job. I sound nothing like him. I do, however, look as ragged as he does if I stay up way past my bedtime.
F. I CAN play the drums to We Are The Champions, but as Teen Angel says that’s just, Boom, Boom, Thud over and over again.
G. Lord have mercy, I cannot party like a rock star as I do not bounce back from staying up until 3:30am as quickly as I used to.
H. The only chance I have at working in a rock band is to be one of those backup girls who is just supposed to snap her fingers and look good. And frankly, at age 40-something…any career based on looks is not a wise move. But we can all dream can’t we?
Monday, January 18, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Let's not talk about how fast it took me to eat it once I got over cutting into the lovely decorations. Thank goodness we got the TV hooked up in front of the treadmill. Otherwise, it would have been a weekend of staring at that Norman Rockwell print.
Anyway, I was giving janjanmom a tour of the new house, and I was all blah blah new lighting this and yak yak counter tops that. I walked into the dining room to show her the cute little Hula Girl napkins Teen Angel got me for Christmas when I stepped in the biggest dog turd ever. It appears the dog had NOT endured my marathon trip to the grocery store and the beauty shop Friday as well as I had thought and he had pooped in the dining room. To make matters worse, I accidentally sent some of it rolling underneath the hutch, where it now sits waiting for me to find the yardstick to fish it out from under there. Nice. I'm sure she failed to notice much of anything else on the tour because her head was probably screaming, "She had dog poop in her dining room!" the whole time.
Now, fortunately janjanmom is a down to earth, understanding person who has three children and a big dog, so she's dealt with a little poop in her time. However, that doesn't make me feel any less embarrassed about the whole thing. It will give us a good laugh in the coming years. When we're old, wearing gold shoes and playing Bingo, she can lean over to me and cackle, "Hey, remember that time the dog crapped in your dining room and you kicked that turd under the hutch?" We'll laugh and wheeze and wonder out loud why the kids don't come to see us more often.
In the meantime, please know dear readers that you are welcome in my home anytime and you definitely won't have to worry about using the right fork or a tea towel between dinner courses. You might however, want to watch where you step. Now, about that yardstick.......