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19 december 2000 |
mom, two kids, and the blizzard of '78
Today's site status: I'm just waiting for my new IP address to propagate to the new servers, and then we'll see if that brings AvantGo back up. I still have no idea if AvantGo has even looked into this too much. They still, to my knowledge, have no idea what happened. Viva technology and the people who serve it. All right, this week I'm featuring some extra-special Christmas and Winter doodles, goofy memories to warm your eyes by. It will be very It's a Wonderful Life, only in color and starring me instead of Jimmy Stewart. We're both tall, though, All told, I was a lucky kid. I didn't grow up in a wealthy family, but my parents were smart and resourceful. So, we were always safe and had what we needed. Now, my mom is your typical die-hard, ultra-creative Midwestern type o' gal. Give her lemons and she'll not only make lemonade, but a nice meringue pie, mixed drinks, and a three-course dinner for six. You have to be that way with two small daughters in a Northern Indiana blizzard. People still talk about the Blizzard of '78 from time to time. It was the Big One the beat all big ones, and we lived at ground zero. At the time, we had a modest ranch house next to a corn field in rural Kendallville, IN. For those of you who have never visited there in winter, DON'T. Not only did we get your typical crap Midwest winter, but we also got regular Lake Effect misery, too. So it's 1978, and my dad was out of town on an extended business trip. There was already a good bit of snow on the ground, but we'd seen nothing yet. It snowed. And it snowed. That night, it snowed some more. I remember waking up the next morning in an eerily quiet house, and looked outside to see what was up. Turned out that I couldn't see outside because our house was UNDER the snow. As in, forget the car--dig out our home, dear! Things were AOK from my perspective, which included quadruple-decker two-headed snowmen, and a major metropolitan igloo village. I had a snowsuit, insulated boots, and big plans. Bye, Mom! Apparently, the Mom point of view on blizzards wasn't quite as blissful. Because in order for us to get out of the house, she had to break a garage window and dig her way to the front door. So she did. And we got to play. Unfortunately it was too cold to stay out for long. Very unfortunate for Mom, who over the course of two weeks, developed a rather pesky case of cabin fever. When you lived as far out as we did, the snowplows took their sweet time. Thankfully, Kelli and I entertained ourselves pretty well. But still. Two kids, no school, living next to a cornfield. Mom loved us a lot, but now we've crossed the border from sainthood to borderline insanity. We had to get out of there. So one day, Mom gathered me, Kelli, and a couple of suitcases. We were leaving, even if Mom had to charter a Himalayan rescue helicopter. She packed up the car (which she had to dig out, as well) and drove us to Ft. Wayne. Not a big city, by any means, but they did have a nice hotel there with a heated indoor/outdoor pool. That's where we spent the weekend, and had a blast. Mom rested her frazzled nerves, and Kelli and I swam off all that pent-up energy and probably began acting like normal children again. So here I am, all of twenty-nine years old, with a mom who rings me at the first indication of bad weather in my area. Actually, she calls when the weather is still in Missouri and just MIGHT come my way. "Are you being careful, dear? You're not driving in that, are you? It's not you, but the other guy you have to watch out for." I keep reminding her that I learned survival from the fittest. |