We interrupt this broadcast. . . .

I live on the southern coast of Rhode Island, so when we heard that a major snow storm was headed our way, we prepared ourselves.  We went to the store two days before Nemo’s arrival, we filled the cars up with gas.  We bought plenty of bread and milk.  And wine – because this woman does not live on bread and milk alone.

Friday morning my husband went into work early so that he could leave early, before little Nemo grew into a bigger, meaner fish.  I made meatloaf with baked potatoes and vegetables, because, if you’re going to be stuck inside for a few days, you want your belly full of comfort food.  And chocolate.  And wine.

Nemo as seen through the window Friday evening.  Looks lovely, almost magical, but you can't hear the way the wind was howling, nor the tree branches scratching at the windows.

Nemo as seen through the window Friday evening. Looks lovely, almost magical, though you can’t hear the wind roaring, nor the tree branches scratching at the windows.

The wind began to howl.  There is something about the ferocity of that sound that fills me with anxiety.  The lights flickered.  We were prepared to lose power, though we hoped we wouldn’t.  (Our electrical line taps into the main line on a grid, so that in the past, when we lose power, we’re generally the first ones to get it back.)

But the power stayed on.  Which meant I could watch CSI NY.  The second of a two-parter, AND a crossover from the CSI set in Vegas a few nights earlier, I was really looking forward to watching Mac Taylor and D. B. Russell race together to save Mac’s girlfriend.  A glass of wine, my love beside me, and a favorite TV show.  Blow, Nemo, blow.

Alas.  To paraphrase my birthday pal, Robert Burns:  the best-laid plans of mice and ardent CSI fans are often thwarted.

Do you know what happens when mega storms hit?  Every local TV news station usurps air time with constant blather coverage of the storm (except for insertion of all the usual commercials, naturally).  They tell you obvious important stuff like, it’s really nasty out there, don’t go outside, stay off the roads.  And to prove how nasty it is, they send news teams out to drive the hazardous roads so they can film the wind and the snow.  They point to the banks left by plows.  “See if you can get a shot of that,” one reporter says to the camera person, as the snow swirls furiously, making it impossible to see much of anything.  “Look at how high the snow is there.  I don’t know if you can really tell, but it’s high.”  They tell you how many homes are without power.  That number increases rapidly.

To be fair, there are probably a lot of people who do want to know – constantly – what’s happening during times like this.  It may reassure them that everything is under control.  I am not one of them.

We had options, though:  DVDs and books, board games, candles, flash lights with extra batteries, heat, and running water.  We made it through the night.  We did lose power twice for short periods.  We were fortunate.

Aftermath - shoveling out.  Not so fun.

Aftermath – shoveling out. Not so fun.

The snow-shrouded branch pointing at my kitchen window was actually touching the glass.  Made me think of a blink angel getting closer and closer. . . .

The snow-shrouded branch pointing at my kitchen window in the morning was actually touching the glass. Made me think of a blink angel getting closer and closer. . . .

My husband has managed, with the help of our kind neighbor and his snow-blower, and an anonymous good Samaritan with a backhoe, to dig us out.  We still have lots of comfort food – I’m making a beef with red wine stew next.  And chocolate chip cookies.  Later, I may go see if I can find the CSI NY episode I missed online.  Even if I don’t, it’s all good.

For those of you who were also in the path of Nemo, how did you fare?  I’d love to know.

29 thoughts on “We interrupt this broadcast. . . .

  1. Why dig out? Huddle, cuddle, eat, drink and be merry. The views out the windows are magical. Wish I were there. Really. Instead of in upper 70s, sunny and breezy. Though it has been quite lovely here, especially for the strolls and bike rides into town.


  2. I think I would prefer Ray’s upper 70s! Colorado has no snow at all – we might get a dusting tonight. The mountains are getting it, though. I hope it stays there, in spite of the fact my lawn is dead. Love your pictures and I hope you continue to enjoy yourself!


    • Yes, Lorinda, I would prefer upper 70s, too. Ideal temperature, I think. Pretty as it was the day after Nemo blew in, with the sun reflecting off the ice and snow, I dream of wintering in Hawaii someday!


  3. Lovely pictures of a magical wonderland. The anticipation of a storm coming is fun, isn’t it? Thanks for your take on it. I love your TV news usurps. Enjoy the snow and comfort food. And hope you find that CSI episode you missed. I was lucky, too. We never lost power. I made veggie soup, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and banana bread. Ahhh…comfort food.


    • Thanks, Laurie. Yes, the anticipation of the storm was kind of fun since we were prepared, and also the timing – we knew we had to the whole weekend to cope. Banana bread. I have had that in ages! I think I’ll have to make some soon. 😉


  4. I wish I were there with you enjoying the storm (warm and coxy inside, of course) and eating your beef stew with that delicious wine gravy. MMMmm!



  5. Well, it seems you had the essentials at the ready. Chocolate, wine, lovey, comfort food and a good tv watch. Nice.
    As for the news crews that cover these events, I resent their extreme sports methodology. I feel as if they’re just resume building on the humps of people who are getting the beat down by Mother Nature.


  6. the weather wizards drive me nutrs, too! They whip us all into a frenzy and worry us beyond belief, Bobby McFerrin said (or sang it) best.”..everyone has some troubles, when you worry, you make it double, don’t worry, be happy, woohooo hhooo,,,,,oooo, don;t worry, be happy!” We had a major snow a few years back, had a collection of DVDs to watch and lots of comfort food. We made it through. I often wonder how people survived before our modern conveniences and I think back to when I read The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder.. I think I would be a tombstone in a prairies somewhere! Gald you are okay, don;t worry, be happy!


    • Clay, I was thinking the same thing as the wind was howling – people long ago who didn’t have insulated houses and central heating, how did they get through the winter?! Don’t worry, I am happy! Thanks for reading! 🙂


  7. Only got about a foot here and were well taken care of. We had been prepared for lots worse. I got a pork roast out of the freezer and cooked it and apples and sweet potatoes – and it was so good and smelled so wonderful. Just lucky. However, just as annoyed as you are by all the hours of TV going on and on without adding very much new information or pictures where you can really see anything. Should be some balance somehow. Hooray for neighbors with snowblowers!!!


  8. Darn those incessant news updates on up to the minute weather reports. While I am glad you and Bob made it through the storm and I hope the rest of the North East did as well – I for one am very happy to not have been there. My running partner and I were finally able to get out on our favorite running trail yesterday morning (only a few spots of ice). And yes – how lucky to have a neighbor who owns a snowblower!


  9. We’re originally from the upper midwest, and spent 10 years in New Hampshire–Nemo was our first Rhode Island winter storm experience. Of course I can’t help but make comparisons. At first I thought the newscasters were making an exaggerated big deal out of a little storm, but when the wind howled, the snow swirled and the lights flickered, I revised my opinion of Longfellow’s “Wreck of the Hesperus.” I used to think it was just another example of Victorian melodrama; now I get it!

    “Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
    With the masts went by the board;
    Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,
    Ho! ho! the breakers roared!”

    (Still, I’ve lived through scarier storms than Nemo).


    • So, you were in Rhode Island, too, for Nemo? It was originally predicted to be not so bad along the coast, but it turned out worse. Usually it’s the reverse that happens. As for Longfellow, I have a special place in my heart for him, melodrama and all. I discovered him when I was about 12 or 13 (speaking of melodrama). Thank you for stopping by and commenting. I appreciate it.


  10. We’re about as far away as it’s possible to be, but plenty of blather on our news about it! Glad only an angel scratched your window, not a tree, and thanks goodness for good Samaritans. Enjoy your wine and chocolate!


  11. OMG, I had the same problem with the news coverage, as you might have noted from my Facebook posts at the time. But this is Maine, so it’s probably about the most exciting thing that has happened here in…oh…ever.

    Our power stayed on the whole time, thank heavens – but I’m with you, I really don’t like wind. It gives me the willies. And I can’t eat meatloaf or drink wine, so I’m doubly out of luck. So glad you guys came through it okay, though! 🙂


    • I didn’t notice your Facebook posts because for some reason, though we had our power, our internet did go out for a while. I can’t tell you how glad I am to find someone else who doesn’t like wind. And it seems that in the last two years we have had some whopping wind storms.


  12. Oh, I am so with you on your rant about the storm coverage on TV. And when they’re not actually usurping the broadcast entirely, they shrink down the normal program so they can run closure information across the bottom third of the screen. Drove me crazy when I lived in Maine.

    I’m glad you were well fortified and prepared with backup entertainment. And you can probably find that show online somewhere! Here’s a wish that spring comes soon.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s