Sunday, March 14, 2010

Another Nor'easter

I often joke about how my job is really cushy, except when it's not. Last night was one of those non-cushy nights. I arrived at work at 4PM, after spending the day at the volunteer coaching gig, which runs from October to March (in the spring and summer, the kids should be outside, or involved in school athletic programs), and attending the luncheon/end-of-season program. The rain was torrential, and the wind was gusting to 50mph (80km/h for you unamerican surrender monkeys and socialests -sic). The weather was the sort of weather that leads to little umbrella graveyards popping up in sheltered nooks, into which the gutted remnants of cheap umbrellas are blown by the gale.

When I arrived at work, I noted that many branches were down on the main site, and that water was entering one of the buildings (I did a quick clean-up, and battened down the hatches). Two of the other sites I was monitoring had no power- I even had to travel to one site to make sure everything was okay (the alarm systems were running on battery power, so I was able to get back to my usual base of operations after ascertaining that things were okay). I was able to spend most of the night indoors, although my pea coat (genuine Navy surplus) and knit cap never did quite dry out over the course of the night.

I had hoped to work until midnight (having left the house at 8AM for the volunteer gig), but I received a call from my relief... he had a bad bug, possibly the flu, and would be unable to come to work. One of his children, a brilliant, wonderful boy, has been in the hospital for about three weeks, and there's no place for picking up bugs like a hospital. I always pack an overnight bag (change of clothes, contact lens case/solution, toothbrush) in case of emergency, so it was a rough, but not untenable situation. I've always prided myself on being bloody bold and resolute when it was necessary, and my situation was a picnic compared to that in which my co-worker has been for almost a month.

The night was a rough one (and not in a good way), and my foul-weather gear never did quite dry out, but I got through it all (the fact of the time change helped), and greeted the dawn inexplicably filled with energy, and marveling at the changes wrought on the scenery by the elemental onslaught of the night before. For instance, the stream (the Dutch settlers in this area would have called it a "kill") in the following picture is usually more placid than it is today:

I held off a new post until now because I wanted anyone who cares to read this blog to watch the videos linked in the previous thread. I am glad I did so, because a couple of my commentors mentioned the band Stiff Little Fingers, so I have my next post subject mapped out for me.

1 comment:

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

I like how green the moss looks against the water and rocks in the winter.

This causes me to walk the streams in West Virginia when I get the chance.