Cryin’ The Blues

We’ve just recovered from an ice storm that left us without electricity for 30 hours. That’s not bad, considering what people went through in Feb which was for a couple of weeks. I take all my modern conveniences for granted until I can’t sew or iron, do the laundry, watch TV, or the furnace is off, and because I live in a tiny village, we have our own well and the pump won’t run. Water came in a trickle; fed by gravity. Fortunately, the power came back on before the tank went dry. Last night at the Trustees meeting, of which I am one, we discussed and decided to get the well house wired for 220 and buy a generator.

All the hurricane survival necessities moved with me from Florida. I cooked on a two burner, propane camp stove, read by an oil lamp, listened to the portable radio, the fireplace kept us warm, and there was ten gallons of water in plastic containers just in case we lost the well.

The Wahoo Tree was as beautiful as it’s ever been this year and when covered with ice, it was spectacular.

And then it collapsed.

If you’re not familiar with a Wahoo Tree, it’s native to the Ozarks. In the spring it leafs out first, then has tiny little brownish flowers. In the fall, the leaves turn golden with reddish edges, and the seeds pods are pink with red berries. Every winter we’ve been visited by a flock of Cedar Waxwings who eat the berries until the tree is stripped. Takes less than a day and is quite a sight. This tree was part of life’s cycle. It will be missed.

 

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