At this point I've pretty much had it, and it's only been 4 days since our ice storm began. I think I wouldn't have made a very good Katrina survivor. If I were a Katrina survivor I'd have saved the girlfriend, the pets and the children, then climbed up on the roof with a six pack of beer and a book and tried to pretend this wasn't my life. The National Guard could save me or not, I don't care. As long as they regularly air dropped care packages of books and beer, I'm cool with sitting up there as long as I need to. Good luck to the rest of you.
So we survived our flirtation with Arctic living, and although I still haven't got my truck unstuck from the ice, I want to reward myself with a nice long drive this weekend. Maybe the weather will settle down enough for a trip somewhere. I think I can justify it if I say I'm going to Memphis for hurricane lamps and kerosene. I was in our local Wal-Mart last night and the camping aisle was wiped out of stovetop coffee makers, hurricane lamps, sterno stoves and candles. Like everyone else in Southern Illinois, we've made a solemn vow to stock up on those things for next year's ice storm, but if we don't get started buying them now, we won't think of it again until we're sitting in the house watching Mrs. Undrfoot, our yard cat, glaze over again.
I'm officially tired of winter now. I'm ready to tool around on the mower again. And sweat. And complain about sweating instead of complaining about freezing.Maybe Memphis isn't far enough. Maybe the Yucatan. I remember now...we need sombreros and Bohemia beer from street vendors in Mexico more than we need candles. And a talavera toilet. Nothing says "Ice storm? What ice storm?" like a talavera toilet.
4 comments:
Stop your whining. When our pioneering great-grandmothers were young every freakin' day of their lives was like this and they had no WalMart to save them. And if they wanted beer they had to till the fields, grow the hops, cut the hops and brew the damn stuff themselves all the while birthing a dozen or so younguns and if they wanted a book they had to write it themselves on some old bark with a feather dipped in their own blood. Now THAT was hardship!!
Up hill? Both ways? Maybe your great-grandma knew my dad, who also endured hardships, the likes of which will never be seen by anyone born after 1850.
And please...no Wal-Mart? Hello, Comrade? Welcome to America!
Gearing up for next year's storm? After a major ice storm in Quebec 10 or so years ago (they're still talking about the damn thing to this day), people did just that. We've had little wannabe storms, but nothing even close to that. Relax, have a beer and dream of the day you'll get that toilet. I love that toilet.
Oooh, I need that toilet. Husband agrees.
Post a Comment