Gather ’round and I’ll tell ye a terrifying Halloween tale…
The sun was shining and the leaves were still on the trees, sporting their Autumnal shades of red, yellow and mostly green.
Suddenly, snow began to fall from the sky at an alarming speed. These were big, boulder-sized flakes. With fangs. And claws. And skull tattoos on their biceps. The leaves, naive and unaccustomed to these types of aerial intruders, didn’t know what else to do but hold onto the snowflakes. It was a a version of hugging. It was the type of kindness that kills.
Soon, the trees began to buckle under the weight of all this love. Throughout the
land neighborhood, there was a succession of snaps: trunks broke in half, branches the size of cars fell to the ground, twigs flew through the air like the brooms of invisible witches. But this was all in the distance. Until it wasn’t.
It was part thud, part thunk, part pop. It was a tree. On our beloved house. It shook things a bit. It’s what we expected from Hurricane Irene but not from a blizzard on October 29.
We investigated quickly then retreated back inside, afraid that the sky was going to fall on our heads.
We waited for more trees to come down. They did, but luckily not directly on the house. We peered out the windows, we practiced the “duck and cover” position. I did what I do during horror movies: hid my face in a pillow. The lights flickered intermittently and finally went out, leaving us in darkness. We lit the candles and dug out the trusty book lights. It was spooky. Something was blowing against the roof. All of this was bad, but the most horrifying part was that we HAD. NO. INTERNET. <Insert a scary lightening bolt with neon bats flying out of it.>
We whimpered ourselves to sleep and suffered hundreds of house-related nightmares (flood, fire, infestation of roaches in devil costumes). At dawn, we awoke still tired and confused. We crawled outside with mittens on our knees and hats on our hands to assess the situation. I couldn’t see very well, because I had a boot on my head, but it was obviously bedlam. Fortunately though, the damage to our roof seemed to be mostly on the surface. We rustled through a few piles of papers to figure out who carries our Homeowners Insurance. We commiserated with our neighbors who also lost several trees and chunks of trees.
To cheer ourselves up, we took our brand new red
race car snow blower for a spin around the driveway.
We cleared whole glaciers of ice off our cars. Then we hunkered down on the couch and felt thankful: our electricity was back on, our house was sort of intact, and we had chocolate in the pantry. And not just any chocolate: my dad and stepmother, Sherill, had sent us these handsome treats, from Stam Chocolaterie, featuring adorable owls, acorns and…yes, mushrooms.
With this super-cute plate.
And these corresponding napkins.
And, as suddenly as the internet went away, it came back to us again. Needless to say, everything here is a-okay.
Categories: Around Town