Ice, Ice, Baby.
Remember those words from a song? We do have ice, ice, Baby.
Lucky enough to still have power through this storm, I remembered the previous storm that dumped fourteen or more inches of moisture-laden heavy snow that snatched the power from us for enough hours to make things a bit chilly and grind all things electrical to a halt. Sometimes memories work against us.
My first tip-off, that something meteorological was amiss, came last night as I worked in my kitchen, which overlooks a busy state highway. I was mixing and stirring away when suddenly I realized that I'd seen zero headlights go whizzing by for a while. Now that the trees and bushes have shed their foliage, we can see through the trees and have a bird's-eye view of the roadway. Normally a relatively busy road, to not see vehicle movement is, indeed, strange. Feeling the need to know all things weather-related, I opened up the front door and stuck my head out. Not my feet, mind you, just my head, and two of my senses told me all I needed to know. My ears could hear the sound of the icy rain as it pelted (and adhered to) every surface. My eyes could see the glare of ice as it covered sidewalks, brick, and driveways. Just like the groundhog, Phil, who sees something, doesn't like it, and tucks his head back into his hidey-hole, I closed the door and pondered all things pre-Christmas.
Certain that power would be lost (I was wrong......so far), I became determined to accomplish everything in my world that would require electricity before Christmas morning. I looked at the clock, learned that it was 7:07 p.m. and said, "Hmmm". "Let me think of all that I cannot do without power." The list was long. "What tasks need to be done that do not require power?" The list was short.
I proceeded to put my multi-tasking skills to the test. While two bowls of butter were quick-softening in a warm oven, I started the washing machine. Checked the butter. Still more time. Hauled out the vacuum sweeper and swept through the upper rooms of the condo like Hurricane Katrina. Mixed up two batches of cookie dough that needed to be chilled overnight and grabbed a box of gluten-free brownies so that child number one would have something sweet to eat while she visits. Discovered that the first load of laundry was done in the washing machine, threw that into the dryer, and tossed another load into the washer. Consulted the clock. Hmmm, 9:10 p.m. Starting to lose personal steam but cannot stop now. The specter of no electricity was pushing me forward. Frequent glances out the windows let me know that what traffic was moving was moving VERY slowly. An earlier accident - probably a car in the ditch - had cleared of police cars and wrecker, but still little, if any traffic. By 10:00 p.m. my body had indicated that it was fed up with my irrational fear of losing electricity. The gluten-free brownies had cooled enough to cut up and store, the kitchen was wiped down, and the laundry dried, folded and put away. I needed to be wiped down, folded and put away.
Which is exactly what I did until 4:30 a.m. when my mind woke up, discovered that it was still raining that icy mix, discovered that I still had power, and I did what all good cooks do at this time of year.
I headed for the kitchen.
Ancora imparo
