At the close of my blog last Thursday, we had received 6 or 8 inches of snow, according to the weather man and my husband. By the time we went to bed, it had grown to a foot. A foot of snow in Texas. Unbelievable, but soooo cool.
Savannah and I were looking forward to being off our respective school and work that Friday, Pat was reminded of his childhood, and we all went to bed in good moods. The house felt a little more cozy with the snow surrounding us.
All of those good Norman Rockwell feelings vanished, however, around 1:30 that morning when we woke startled to a
And most important…
We’ve lost our electricity frequently during storms, but it was always back up in the next couple hours. So Pat and I returned to bed with no worries, but snuggled a little closer.
We woke earlier than usual the next morning with cold noses. Still no electricity. We piled more blankets on Sarah and brought Savannah in to bed with us since her room is the coldest in the house. Plus, she provided a little extra warmth in the bed.
The next 40 hours were spent waiting for the electricity, and eating out. Then waiting some more, and eating out again. And so on, and so on. I tried to expand our times inside the warm restaurants by praying for slow service while Pat lamented about how much money we were spending. Meanwhile, the waiting period at home grew colder and colder as the temperature continued to drop.
Sarah walked around in her hat and mittens (When she would keep them on. There was serious playing to be done, you know) Pat kept on the sweater I gave him for Christmas, and I doubled up my socks and kept a blanket with me at all times.
Savannah’s another story. Part of the time she wore a tank top and a short-sleeved shirt until her father and I yelled at her to put on more clothes. Saturday she was playing in the snow after her basketball game – in her sleeveless jersey….with NO gloves….and NO COAT! The girl has lava running through her veins. She can even withstand the cold longer than her Utah-bred father.
36 hours in to our freeze out, we were all on a short fuse and looked like Sarah did when I brought her in from the snow Thursday afternoon.
It’s not fun when you can see your breath inside your home.
Late Saturday Pat received a call from one of our neighbors. Their lights were back on. We rushed to the front door like those crazy shoppers on Black Friday, busted inside, and lo and behold…the heater was on! It sounded like the Hallelujah chorus. Although that may have been me singing and Savannah chiming in. We have a tendency to break out in song. We’re a very musical family.
We still had to eat out that night, though. The storm hit right before our weekly grocery trip. I was back to being annoyed by the slow service but Pat continued to gripe about the money coming out of our checkbook.
That night after I changed into a tank top and Pat walked around in shorts he said, “You know how sometimes you say you might want to move up north?”
“Yeah,” I said hesitantly.
“This was just a taste.”
Well put, sir.