Self-reliance: AN ILL WIND

A few flakes of snow kiss my window and instantly turn to water. The sky is just beginning to lighten. There is a deep rumbling of thunder that must have been waiting its turn to sound off since summer had flown away. The Buffalo Gazette is laying on the brown grass. I put on the warm, soft blue cashmere robe Ollie gave me for last Christmas, glance at the emptiness of his side of our bed and go downstairs to bring in the paper before it gets soggy.

 

The radiators begin to hiss like cobras waiting for me to move just an inch so they can spit their poison into me. My automatic coffee pot is bubbling. There is a rhythm of hissing and bubbling that makes me smile a little. I do a few twirls, tap my fingers on the cabinet mica, get my OJ from the fridge and sit down to first look over the Gazette weather report. It is a silly, dumb habit. Plainly I can see the snow is quickly coming down more quickly, heavier. This is going to be our first big snowfall of our long winter.

 

My car has snow chains I’ve never used surely rusting in the trunk of my Ford. Unless I just happen to be getting gas when all hell falls from the sky, who would I get to put those chains on for me? Nobody, for sure. All the shelves in my pantry are full. The freezer can supply me with good home-cooked meals for two weeks, if the electricity doesn’t go out as it does every winter. I am not thrilled about possibly being snowed in, marooned from humanity, but am not afraid either.

 

‘What the hell, ‘ I ask myself and answer. ‘Indulge, enjoy.’  I toast an English muffin and smear it with butter and raspberry jam, then devour it with my coffee. My anxiety provokes another coffee and a second muffin. This one gets clobbered with a thick layer of ground peanut butter. I lick its remains from the spreader knife, sit back, and relax.

 

Wham! The outside window shutters slam, bang the side of the house. I feel a slight shake and shiver just thinking how strong the wind is getting. It howls loud enough for me to believe there are wolves on the sidewalk ready to chew on any fool dumb enough to go outside today.

 

My robe is no longer cozy warm. For this, our first real winter day, I put on a worn but trusty bright red warm-up suit. Oh, for a beard and big fat belly and Santa would live. Nobody will be visiting me so I don’t care what I look like.

 

I must give the day some serious thought, decide I will finally vacuum all the carpets, even on the stairs. That way I’ll get the exercise I haven’t had for weeks. Before I open the closet door to get the monster, the phone rings. I.D. shows me its Gabriel calling. ‘Hi, Gabe. What are you going to do this white pre-Christmas day?’ I knew she had something on her mind and was not surprised to be invited to her house for Bridge. ‘I can call Esmeralda and Judy,’ she says and starts laughing. ‘What the devil kind of name is Esmeralda? Isn’t it horrible?
I think she has idiots for parents, don’t you? ‘ ’Gabe, if you invited Queen Mary I wouldn’t come out today. You must be crazy.’ I add on, ‘And you are calling Essie’s parents crazy? That’s not nice at all. Thanks for the invite. I’ll see you when we thaw.’ If she notices, I put the phone down harder than usual.

 

It’s almost ten a.m. ‘One Life to Live’ is on. So is ‘Grand Illusion.’ Neither is worth my eye strain. Ah, a surprise. Judge Judy appears. It must be a fill in repeat. She isn’t due on until four. What a character she is and what a rich one she has become. I let her rant and scold and look down her nose at the defendants. She keeps me company for a while until at last I head to the hall closet for the vacuum. An ominous quiet fills the room. Judge Judy isn’t yelling. I look in the den and the t.v. is dark.  In fact, my percolator is no longer perking.

 

 No switches turn on lights. Plenty of candles, matches are strategically placed around the house. I have flashlights of all sizes and lots of batteries, fooling myself that I am ready for come what may.

 

The street is no longer visible thru the East windows. What I see from the West is sent from heaven aiming to destroy us. The snow is up to my window sills, piled almost to the second floor of Gabriel’s house.
Evidently, my place is being swallowed up, buried too. The heat isn’t working and I am chilled. Holding the railing, I walk slowly up stairs to get high warm up sox from my bureau drawer. They quickly warm my toes but now I can’t put my shoes on or even my slippers. Aha, I put a second pair on over the first and I am okay for a while.

 

By 1 p.m. the first floor is dark. All of the windows are snowed over. Slowly it is dawning on me that this storm is a once in a lifetime catastrophe. Each snowflake minute worries me more. I should have gone to Gabe’s. At least she and her husband would be there.

 

There is a quick flicker from the den. If the house is on fire, I’ll be a cooked goose.  With hesitation I force myself to see what that light was. Judge Judy is distorted as she comes on screen and quickly disappears. I take that as a good omen that the Buffalo Light and Power Co. may be getting some power back to my city. Who can possibly be working outside in the vicious wind? I have heard no snow plows, seen no headlights since the first few snowflakes made me smile this morning.

 

I snack on an orange,  peanut butter and crackers, open a can of tuna, toss in some mayo and flash light my way to bed. The sheets are cold. An extra blanket goes over the two that are already waiting for me to curl up into a ball and fall asleep.

 

If the Buffalo Gazette is outside of my house when I wake, it would have to have been delivered by god. I listen at the window and hear what seems to be shoveling. From the West windows there are a few inches of light getting through. I hurry downstairs, have a glass of still chilled O.J.,realize the fridge lit up when I opened the door and perk my coffee.  Hallelujah!  The tv is working giving weather reports on every channel. Buffalo had a record 28" snowfall in six hours. Schools are closed. Extra ploughs have come in from Erie.

 

The sky is blue. The sun is at work. A stream of melting snow runs from my slanted roof. Snow is being piled up along the curbs. I hear and then see, a plow go past,followed by a large van with WBFL displayed on its roof. It is surely photographing our neighborhood. Gabe is outside, standing in the narrow path her husband cleared in the dark.

 

I want to get in the picture, dressed in all of my layers, and open the front door and shut it fast. Isolated for how long? The t.v. beckons. There, there is Gabe, laughing, waving. Esmeralda and Judy are waving too.

 

Hind sight is the pits. Had I gone to Gabe’s, not been so snotty, I’d have been with good company instead of fearing my shadow all night.
I also most likely would have won the Bridge game and been out  side with everyone this morning waving, laughing, being on T.V. 

 

No tears. I survived on my own and that is darn good !