I have the luck of the Cherokee because it’s damned sure not the Irish

At just before 5 a.m. this morning, as I lay sleepless in my bed listening to two puppies scream at the unfairness of being crated, I watched a lightning storm move in. Watching lightning snake across the night sky is actually kind of cool as the patterns are endless and if I was still young enough to be able to manage chemical joy, this would be prime time to drop acid. Sadly, the days of treating my body like an amusement park are long past. At 4:57 a.m. the night sky turned neon blue and the fan I had running to dull the puppy noise ceased working. There went the sub-station and with it, the power and my beloved air conditioning.  At 4:58 a.m., the hail started to hit the house and I decided to get up. The trees were twisting violently in the wind and I could hear the sounds of wood breaking. I debated heading for the basement, but by the time I was ready to go, the wind let up.  As quickly as it came, the storm passed by. I pretended to go back to sleep, but sometimes, you’re  just kind of fucked and you might as well get up.

With the rising of the sun, I stepped outside with two very bad puppies and took stock of the back yard. Some limbs down, lots of leaves everywhere. I took the puppies inside. Still no power. Getting dressed without being able to see is kind of a trick. I settled on a white t-shirt, leggings and Tevas. Sure, that seems a bit dressed down for a law office and I pretty much look homeless, but fuck it. I packed up the laptop, grabbed the cell phone and told Troy I was heading to work. I opened the front door and was greeted with this scene:

Underneath the tree is my car.

Down the street, it looks like this:

My neighbor's house is on fire

I should be more upset for my neighbor, but there’s a tree on my car y’all:

Note that this large limb fell directly on my car when it had bare ground all the way around it.

Why is it that  my car had to get hit? Had I pulled up five more feet or parked back five feet, the tree would have missed. This is either supremely bad luck or the just reward for my hubris. Sure, I’m really sad that my neighbor’s car and house down the street are smashed, but my paint is scratched.

It sucks to be these people.

I have no power and won’t for some time. Sweating at night is in my future which I loathe. The refrigerator is full of things that are going to go bad. There’s a chocolate silk pie in there. I put it in the cooler with some ice. Troy put his six pack of Heineken in the cooler. Men have fucked up priorities. You can always swill liquor warm, but a chocolate silk pie melting is a tragedy.

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4 Responses to I have the luck of the Cherokee because it’s damned sure not the Irish

  1. David says:

    … and thanks so much for sharing! So, where does that leave the score after the Yankee snow we sent you a few months ago? 🙂

    Poor Nashville doesn’t seem to get due credit for its natural disasters. Last year’s floods were overshadowed nationally by the BP/Gulf fiasco. This time I confess I was watching twisters in Oklahoma and reading about the aftermath in Joplin, MO and only came across your storm by chance.

    Having had a forty foot limb of a tree fall on a car I was driving and crush it like a sardine can years ago, I’m happy this storm did not happen while you were in your CR-V. Was it badly damaged?

    Too many nights sleep lost to screaming puppies puts me firmly in the senior dog camp cheering for the oldies. Fortunately puppies have plenty of fans. These guys are lucky to have found you.

    Do you have your power back yet? Of course, you do know the only solution to a melting chocolate silk pie is to eat it as quickly as possible!! Looking forward to a Yosemite post … take care!

    • We have power back and not a moment to soon. It was 97 degrees here today and absolutely miserable with sweat and 13 year cicadas in full force. Heading to Yosemite on Saturday where Troy will doubtless try to kill me again.

  2. bschooled says:

    Wow…just wow.

    I always (and I mean ALWAYS) complain about the colder than freezing winters in Calgary, but I can’t imagine waking up to that.

    I would send you a chocolate silk pie, but we don’t have good stuff like that here. How about some maple syrup and a Celine Dion CD?

    • While I appreciate the sympathy over the tragic loss of my chocolate silk pie, I could not possibly trouble you to send Celine Dion this way. I have still barely gotten over Alanis Morrisette. Could I interest you in any 8 tracks of Alabama?

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